Voxx: Book Two in the Mastered by the Zinn Alien Abduction Romance Series

by Alana Khan

  “I’m fine, Sir.”

  “The biggest thing you have to worry about right now, Victoria, is the clock on the wall. By the way, you have two hours and fifty-nine minutes until you’re eligible for release. Any willful misbehavior will be punished. Severely.”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  Communicating wordlessly with the krannock makes it easy to tilt her to a vertical position. The center of the table retracts to expose those beautiful breasts, and I step closer to fondle them. Flicking and plucking the nipples pull sighs of pleasure from my female.

  I’ve stopped trying to control my inner thoughts from calling her my female. I’ve used that term for years, ever since I chose her almost two years ago. It cemented two months ago when I won the lottery and earned the right to bring her aboard my ship to begin the Quest.

  I step closer and slide my hand between her folds as I penetrate her mouth with my tongue.

  “Feel good?” I ask.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Ready for more pleasure?”

  “Yes, Sir,” her voice is breathy, eager.

  She’s smiling, and her core is slick for me. I return the table to its original ass-in-the-air configuration, then step behind her.

  After drizzling lube on her tight pucker, I enter her with one, then two fingers. I can tell she’s enjoying the penetration, although she’s trying not to move because of the way I scolded her for this very thing earlier today.

  Bending forward, I urge in her ear, “It’s okay, Victoria. Move all you want. Moan all you want. Enjoy all you want. It’s going to be hard enough for you not to come.”

  I pause, remove my fingers, and insert the blue dildo; this ramps her up. Because of her position, I can see her cream gathering in those pretty, pink folds of hers. When she starts moaning I slow down, but this does nothing to reduce her pleasure.

  I stop all movement for a moment, allowing her to gather control.

  “Ready to begin again?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she sounds hungry for my touch.

  Because I took the time over the last five days to learn her response cycle, it’s easy for me to know her signals of impending orgasm. I stop or slow down when she gets too close and ramp up when she’s ready to enjoy more. Having the power to control her body like this has me hard as a rock.

  Sixty days ago this was just a dream. Then it was a flurry of activity in preparation to begin my Quest. And for the last five days, I’ve been in a perpetual state of arousal giving almost round-the-clock sexual attention to Victoria without penetrating her.

  That clock doesn’t just indicate when Victoria will get her release; that timestamp is for me, too. In a few short hours, I’ll take her for the first time. My first act this morning was to place her on restriction to make today’s coupling even sweeter. I wanted to ensure she would tolerate and even enjoy my penetration.

  Victoria

  I used to hate him because he abducted me and ordered me around. That changed sometime yesterday. Now I hate the motherfucker because he is torturing me in other, more insidious ways. If I don’t come soon, this will kill me.

  A few days ago I didn’t think I would be able to tolerate this, much less love it. There’s something about the feeling of fullness, maybe the naughtiness, that lights me up.

  “Please, Sir. I can’t do this any longer. Please, can I come?”

  “No, but keep begging. It’s delightful to hear,” he intones—he can be so smug.

  I hate him. Hate isn’t a strong enough word. Maybe I’ll make up a word that’s stronger than hate. I should do that right now. I need something to take my mind off this intense pleasure.

  The beginnings of an orgasm start. My thighs quiver and a moan is wrenched from the depths of my throat. He stops, but my orgasm continues to ramp. I try to clamp down on it, but I’m tied so tightly in this machine I can’t clench my thighs together to stem the tide of my arousal.

  “No!” his tone is hard and firm as he pulls the dildo out. This helps me stay on the safe side of the precipice.

  “Thank you, Sir.” I’m panting and breathing through my teeth as if I’ve been lifting heavy weights in the gym.

  He steps around the apparatus and combs his fingers through my hair, then leans to kiss my forehead.

  “You’re such a good girl. It’s obvious how hard you’re trying.”

  His praise never ceases to pluck sexy strings inside my body.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “It’s time for the green toy.”

  I can’t imagine how that huge thing is going to fit. Oh well, perhaps it won’t feel good, which will keep me well within the rules.

  “You’re dripping wet, Victoria. You’re so responsive.”

  He drops a kiss on my forehead, then holds the chartreuse monstrosity in front of me. From this angle, it looks even bigger. My eyes flare in fear. That’s going to hurt.

  “Think this will hurt, little Victoria?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “If I told you this is what I want, what would you say?” his voice is low and smooth and persuasive.

  I’d say you’re an asshole. I’d say you’re a sadist, my inner brat responds. But I feel my core clench in desire. I can’t help it. Dear Lord, I don’t know why, but my inner slut wants to please him.

  “I’d say I’ll try to please you, Sir.”

  “Perfect answer.”

  He stalks to his position behind me and I can’t control my body’s reflexive clamp to stave off his intrusion.

  His thumb presses into my little pucker as the green dildo glides gently into my core. Yes. I can do this. In fact, it will feel good. Then my crazy mind switches back to dread—I fear this will feel so good I’ll come. There aren’t any screens in my line of sight. I have no idea how long I still have to wait.

  That green dildo is huge. Luckily he’s pressing into my channel slowly. I focus on the pressure. I tell my brain this is pleasure, not pain. It works.

  It’s working too well. My orgasm begins building before the head of the phallus breaches my core.

  I wish it was his cock. It isn’t a simple desire or even a yearning. Oh my God, I crave his cock. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my entire life. Not a puppy, not a Christmas present, not even an A in my Administrative Law class, which I thought I wanted more than life itself.

  No, right now, his cock is the only thing my brain can focus on.

  “Please, Sir. Please. No plastic. Dear God, I want your cock in me.”

  I don’t care if Susan B. Anthony is looking down and cursing me for my weakness. I don’t care if I’m tipping my hand and the big, purple asshole knows just how much power he wields over me. I don’t care if this is being televised for sport on every TV station in America. I. Want. His. Cock.

  His hands don’t miss a beat. His thumb continues its rhythm in my ass, the dildo is still lodged about an inch inside me and pressing in tiny pulses.

  “Who’s in charge here, Victoria?”

  “You’re in charge, Sir. Voxx from Zinn is totally in charge of this vessel. He can control my mouth, and he can control my body, and he can control my orgasms. But he told me I could make noise, and the noise I’m making is to ask for his gorgeous purple cock to fill me instead of that plastic dildo. The noise I’m making is to beg for it, Sir.”

  “As you wish.”

  The table releases me and he lifts me into his arms, then spirits me the ten feet to the bedroom. I’m thrilled to be off the krannock and feeling his warm flesh beneath my fingers. Reaching over, I pepper his face with kisses. Damn, he’s handsome.

  One of the screens flashes in my periphery: 58:32. Is he going to make me wait another hour? It’s impossible. I’m on fire for him. I catch a glimpse moments later and see it’s set to zero. Relief floods through me, “Thank you, Sir.”

  He lays me on the bed and covers me with his body, then crushes his lips on mine. His tongue forces its way inside me and explores as if he owns me. His hands burrow betw
een the mattress and my head, holding me still so he can invade me even deeper.

  Pulling away, he murmurs in my ear, “I’m going to own every part of you, Victoria.”

  Those strong hands slide from my head to my ass. He grinds himself against me so hard I gasp.

  “Make as much noise as you want. Move as much as you want. Come as much as you want.”

  I’m crazy with desire, riding the granite-hard ridge of his cock and whispering my need to him. “Fuck me, Sir. Oh my God, that feels so good. Please.”

  Pulling back, he surges forward, his cock unerringly slipping through my folds toward my core.

  “Yes, Sir,” I release the noise on a sigh built of equal parts need and relief.

  I bend my knees and press the meaty globes of his ass toward me with my heels as he eases into me. Ohhh, that huge cock slides in more easily than I’d imagined. I’m so ready for him, wet and slick in anticipation.

  He pauses just past my threshold. “Please, Sir,” I urge, feeling desperate.

  But he eases in one millimeter at a time, doling out the ecstasy. I imagine sliding into his brain for a moment—he’s waited for this an entire lifetime. I’m his first. He wants to mete out the pleasure with each exquisite thrust.

  I quit urging him forward with my heels and hands and let him bask in this experience. I allow myself to burrow deep into the transcendent poignancy of this—his cock breaching my threshold for the first time. Feeling the pressure, the delicious torture of stretching and fullness and yes, submission.

  I grip his shoulders and tune in to the rocking of his hips as they join us as one. He lifts his upper body, deepening his penetration. His eyes shutter closed as he grunts in pleasure. He’s fully seated now, and I look down and see our bodies joined together—perfection.

  I bend my knees to garner that extra smidgeon of connection, of depth.

  “Voxx,” the sibilant sound of his name is otherworldly on my lips. I want to tell him other things, sexy things, intimate things I’ll regret tomorrow, so I repeat his name. It’s a chant of approval and longing and acceptance. That’s as far as I can go without losing myself completely in the maelstrom of pleasure and attachment.

  His thrusts are slow and deep, building the ecstasy farther than he’s ever taken me before. When I think I’m ready to fly over the edge he slows a moment, then builds again, taking me higher, higher than I’ve ever been.

  I’m so ready, I don’t think I can take more. I have to tell him—no, beg him—for release. There’s no way I can wait one moment more, and then he spirals me even higher.

  “Voxx,” I breathe his name again, and somehow this urges him on.

  My nails bite into his shoulders, the moans assailing my ears are coming from my mouth. I’m lifting higher, meeting every thrust with one of my own.

  “So good, Sir.” And then I’m gone, soaring. I can’t control the spasms rocking through me. Like a stick of dynamite, something ignites so deep inside me I don’t know where the clenching begins. The spasms move through me like rolling thunder.

  “That’s right, Victoria. Come for your Master.”

  I don’t even mind that word right now. I’m flying through the stars in complete rapture. I peep at him, my beautiful Zinn, through my lashes. I wish I could hold onto this feeling forever.

  Voxx

  I’ve dreamed of this day since puberty, but none of my imaginings did it justice. To be sheathed in her warm, wet channel is bliss.

  I take one last moment to memorize everything. From the look of exquisite delight on her face to her panting moans to her chanting my name with reverence. I’ll never forget it. Her body is covered in a sheen of sweat from pleasure and exertion. Beautiful.

  Twining my fingers with hers, I’m caught by the contrast of our colors, her pink fingers clutched in mine. I wait until she glances into my eyes, this is everything I dreamed of. The pleasure, yes, but the connection—our connection—overrides everything. I quicken my pace, my strokes hard and pounding. She takes everything I give her, still urging more from me with her heels on my ass.

  I explode into her, my release is more than physical pleasure, it binds us closer. Her eyes shock open, finding mine as she receives my essence. I could swear she feels it too—our bond.

  “Sir,” her voice is a rich purr.

  As if of one mind, we move, flipping places so she’s on top. She takes her enjoyment from me, riding my cock and pressing her little pleasure nub against me, traveling peak after peak of rapture.

  The joy she takes in being on top, gathering bliss from my body, stokes my own excitement as I harden inside her. I tug her hair, a signal that sends her into her final paroxysm as I release into her a second time.

  She moves to climb off of me, but I capture her with one palm on the small of her back and the other on the nape of her neck.

  “Want more?” I ask.

  “Yes.” She nips my jawbone. “Yes, Sir, but not now. No mas, Sir. Too much.”

  Her praise strokes my ego. I imagine if she knew, she’d tell me my ego needs no stroking.

  I roll us on our sides and comb my fingers through her long hair; it’s like silk. A calm smile lifts my lips. This is a new feeling for Voxx from Zinn.

  “Want a nap, Victoria?”

  “You tired me out, Sir. Yes, please.”

  I move to leave, but she grabs my shoulders. “Stay with me? Is there that much to do on the bridge? Can’t those star charts wait?”

  I tuck her head under my chin before I let my smile grow. My little captive wants my company. I control my urge to gloat and simply stroke the small of her back to calm her to sleep.

  Victoria

  I’m slingshot from asleep to awake in less than a second. Dear God, what is happening? Every cell in my body is on fire.

  It’s pain, physical pain, like paint thinner is traveling along my veins—waking everything up and then burning. This has to be some horrible space sickness. Maybe the Zinn carry illnesses that kill humans, like when the pilgrims invaded America and gave the indigenous people terrible diseases.

  Ow. I need to move, take a shower. Voxx’s heavy arm is clutching me tightly, but I’ve got to get to the bathroom. I think I’m dying.

  I squirm to wrestle my way out of his grip, but I can’t duck out from under him fast enough.

  “Sir. Gotta go.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Gotta go. Move. Please, Sir.”

  If he doesn’t let me go soon, I’m going to dissolve into a puddle of liquefied entrails on his white sheets. His muzzy thinking finally comes online, and he lifts his big paw off me. I scurry into the bathroom and stand under a freezing shower.

  It does nothing. Whatever is killing me is doing it from the inside out.

  “What’s wrong, zara?” He’s standing in the shower doorway his eyes filled with concern.

  “Dying,” my voice is a harsh rasp.

  I’m scrubbing my skin hard with the scratchy thing he keeps in here. The pain it brings distracts from the agony inside my veins.

  “Tell me exactly what’s going on.” It’s an order. My body responds well to his orders, and it pulls my attention from the scorching acid flowing along my nerves.

  “Pain, Sir. Hot lava’s flowing in my veins.”

  My legs are quivering from the agony; I can’t stand anymore, so I slide down the wall and crumple in a heap on the floor. My skin is so sensitized I could swear I feel every drop of water like it’s a knitting needle.

  “Water’s killing me,” my lips are numb and my voice is quiet.

  He turns it off, reaches down, and carries me back to bed. I’m not aware the screaming I hear is coming from me until I notice my throat is burning.

  The fetal position hurts. Lying flat hurts. His touch is too hot. I’m in agony.

  I’ve pushed things out the garbage chute and then watched them float away into space. The idea of climbing in there takes hold in my brain. It would stop the torture.

  Tears are streaming down my
face. I press my fingers to the liquid, then glance at them, wondering if I’ll see clear tears or red blood. I’m certain the acid inside my body is liquefying me from the inside out.

  “Kill me, Voxx. Please.”

  “I should have researched this more.”

  Is he talking to me or himself? I can’t hear him well anyway, my screams of pain are the only thing my ears can pay attention to. My brain is mostly focused on my physical torture.