by Corin Cain
No, I won’t be ashamed of my desire – but I do feel embarrassed for my failure. I needed to seduce this man – before he could regain control of himself.
He was so close, too. As I squirm against my restraints, I look up – and watch as Daccia closes his eyes, forcing himself not to look at the naked prize in front of him. Blinded, he clenches his fists again. His cock surges against his pants…
…but he is regaining control, dammit.
Slowly – eventually – Daccia’s eyes open once again.
Now, instead of the animal lust that filled him before, Daccia radiates a controlled power.
If I didn’t have this gag in my life, I’d be tempted to laugh. Oh, the big alien warrior might be in control of his desire now – but I can just imagine him looking down at me with those harsh, slate-grey eyes as I pleasured him with my mouth.
How long would you last then, Daccia?
As if reading my mind, Daccia snaps at the AI: "Search her."
The steely tendrils wrapped around my wrists and ankles are about the width of my thumb. More of them emerge from the chair – running across my bare skin, teasing my body. There are six in total – the one jammed into my mouth so I can't speak, two more coiled around my wrists and ankles, and then three others; crawling over every inch of my exposed skin like eager fingers.
One eventually follows the trail of my left arm.
The AI comes to life: "Found. Interstellar jammer."
Daccia's eyes narrow. "I knew it.”
The towering Aurelian holds up one hand.
“AI - shall we remove the device?”
The AI doesn't move - yet.
"This will cause significant pain to the subject – at a level above that permitted for a prisoner."
Oh, shit!
My heart starts pounding. It fucking hurt to get my implants – although the initial pain of the implantation was nothing compared to the fevered horror of the infection I developed afterward.
I imagine this will hurt too. I steel myself for the pain. It will be bad, I know it – but at least this is a sterile med-bay, not a sleazy back-alley joint.
Daccia doesn't give the order, though.
He stares down at me – slate-grey eyes cold and imperious.
"You do deserve to be punished,” the Aurelian commander warns, “but not like this.” Then he looks up, and barks: “AI – is the jammer still operational?"
The AI's tendril slowly presses against my arm. It calculates for a second, before the mechanical voice speaks: "No. This device was designed for one-time use only."
Fuck. I did get ripped off, then!
I’d paid top dollar for this shift-blocker. It was supposed to be an implant that would work once a week, after it had used my body energy to recharge the pulse battery. Either the ship’s AI is somehow wrong, or I got ripped off…
…and, given the infection I’d received, it’s not difficult to guess which.
"AI," Daccia orders. "Continue probe."
The tendrils start moving again – this time following the length of my right arm. I wince as they discover my second implant.
Suddenly, I realize that I've failed. All I’d had to do was push Daccia over the edge – to make him lose self-control and take me, hard and fast. If I’d have succeeded in that, I’d be free right now...
…instead, I’m about to lose the one last weapon I have left.
The AI pauses as the tendrils scan over my right arm.
"Weapon found. It’s a defensive implant capable of delivering 600 volts of electrical energy. "
Daccia pauses. He stands there for a second, examining me with those emotionless, slate-grey eyes.
Then, slowly, he takes off his suit jacket – throwing it across the back of a chair in the corner.
The Aurelian towers over me, and I notice how his tailored, white dress shirt hugs ever line of his huge, muscular body. I can see every muscle of his powerful biceps. He crosses his arms, his forearms flexing menacingly.
Shit. Now I know I'm in trouble.
Not only have I tried to escape – twice – but I've also sabotaged their ship, and I’d lied about the potentially deadly weapon concealed in my right arm.
As I lie there, pinned and helpless, Daccia looks down at me. It’s like he's deciding what to do with me. The seconds tick by…
"AI – deactivate her weapon."
There's a sudden jolt. A blue arc of electricity lances from the long, probing arm of the AI and hits my arm. There's a slight pain, just for a second…
…and then I realize my last weapon is gone.
My last lethal weapon.
Once again, while most would be despondent, I cling to optimism.
I still have my body – and that’s my most powerful weapon. I will seduce these warriors – and now, after this indignity, I’ll make them regret the day they ever crashed into my life and took me captive.
Daccia gives me a long, hard stare with his emotionless eyes. My body trembles beneath his stare. For a moment, I wonder if he can read my mind – hear my defiant, angry thoughts…
It’s almost as if he can. I feel so small and helpless, strapped to this chair. I’m totally in his control.
Daccia’s voice is a low growl: "Is that the last weapon?"
I nod furiously. The probe in my mouth stops me from being able to move my head more than half an inch, and I can’t even mumble a response.
For a second, Daccia just glares at me silently. Finally, he hisses:
"I'm not sure I believe you. There are other places you might... hide a weapon.”
If I could have clenched my thighs together, I would have done. I know exactly what places he’s referring to.
“Not only that,” the towering Aurelian growls, “but you deserve a... punishment for what you've done."
My stomach tightens into a knot.
As I sit there, bound and helpless, I can’t help but stare at the outline of Daccia's swollen cock – very clearly throbbing in his pants.
The bastard’s excited by the idea of me being trapped and helpless. At first, I imagine his hand slapping against my naked ass...
…then I realize what he really intends.
Other places.
The tendrils curled around my body start to shift. The metal tentacles begin to move down my body, wriggling and writhing, and I shudder in fear.
As if they’re alive, the metal tendrils begin to tease at my thighs. Daccia takes a step back as he watches – as if he needs to put physical space between him and the lewd display in front of him.
I watch, my eyes burning furiously. Daccia’s huge, muscular arms flex beneath the crisp, white material of his dress shirt. I can tell he's barely holding himself back.
"AI,” the towering Aurelian murmurs. “Check her cavities."
He says the words clinically. Somehow, it makes them even more humiliating.
My cheeks burn red with shame as the cool, steel tendrils begin to play with my soaking wet pussy.
Gods, I'm so fucking turned on at being helpless in front of this powerful alien. All my attempts to seduce him have backfired. I'm the one sopping with desire now – trembling with need.
Before, I’d almost dreaded succeeding in my plan – but now all I want is for Daccia to lose control and take me, hard and deep.
Shit, I realize it isn't just my freedom that I crave. I’ve been aching for the touch of this warrior species ever since I left that Aurelian harem all those years ago.
Some of the tendrils slide up into my pussy, sending waves of pleasure rippling through me. Then, a second one teases my asshole. Suddenly, it grows slick – as if secreting some kind of lubricant for this very purpose.
Oh, Gods!
I whimper in sinful pleasure as the machine slowly presses the point of that tentacle way into my asshole, stretching and filling me.
I struggle against my bonds, but there's no way for me to escape. Daccia just watches, obviously hungry for more – but somehow still i
n control of his lust-filled body.
"I know what you're trying to do, Allie," he says calmly – although Daccia’s voice has an edge of strain to it. I know he's in complete control, but he’s still wildly turned on at the sight of these steel tendrils working their way deep inside my pussy and ass.
Fuck! I've never felt so humiliatingly turned on. I'm so fucking helpless in front of this powerful, sexy, dominant man.
"You want me to lose control,” Daccia murmurs, “but I sense not just to secure your freedom. No human woman can fake arousal like this. You ache for me, Allie. You ache for me to seed you.”
I stare at Daccia, and my lust-filled mind almost melts with the intensity of this experience. Gods, I was meant to be the one driving him wild with lust – not the other way around…
…except then, an icy shard of rationality lodges itself in my mind. I lock eyes with Daccia – my gaze against those slate-grey orbs of his. I will him to lose himself in this moment. Gods, I know how close he was…
…if I can just nudge him over the edge.
I know that Bonded Aurelian triads can communicate telepathically. Hell, it was almost like Daccia could read my mind, as I thought all those vengeful things earlier…
I know it’s not possible – but I pretend it is. I somehow try to order him to snap. I stare up at Daccia and I try to communicate the impossible with just my eyes…
And, Gods… Somehow it works.
Daccia suddenly reaches down and slowly begins to unzip his pants.
Oh, Gods – I did it!
I don’t know how I did it – but this implacable, statue-like Aurelian warrior has snapped.
I watch, trembling and helpless, as Daccia pulls out his monstrous cock from his pants. Gods, it's almost too big to believe – even larger than the huge cocks of those three Aurelians whose harem I’d been part of.
My eyes widen as I stare at Daccia’s ivory, throbbing shaft. It looks like it was carved from marble, but it throbs inhumanely…
As Daccia stands in front of me, I’m not sure if I’m terrified or elated that I managed to make him lose control. Be careful what you wish for, right?
I think I’m as lost as he is, now. All thought of escape has vanished from my lust-addled brain. Now all I want is for him to take me – hard.
"You want me to lose control?” Daccia strokes his shaft, peering down at me. “You want me to be disgraced?” He gulps dryly. “But… But I will not.”
I’m not even sure he believes himself. I expect him to step forward – to pull those steel tentacles from inside me and replace them with his huge, hard cock.
Daccia finally mutters: “AI – is she concealing anything else?"
The robotic voice hums to life. "The subject has nothing else concealed inside of her."
The tendrils inside me are turning me on so much I can't bear it. It's humiliating to be examined like this – right in front of this sexy, rock-hard Aurelian warrior…
…but even worse is the teasing. The tendrils are filling me with sensation, but leaving me aching for more. I want to cum so fucking badly. I just wish the tendrils would slither in and out of my pussy and ass, like the cocks they resemble. I wish they’d fuck me, until I whimpered in pleasure and found my release.
"Good,” Daccia watches me squirm. “AI - vibrate."
I suddenly try to gasp – but I can't utter a sound; not with one of these metal tendrils filling my mouth.
The squirming steel tentacles writhing inside my pussy and ass suddenly start to vibrate. Instant, overwhelming pleasure floods my body. I stiffen in the chair – reluctantly forced to squirm in pleasure in front of this rock-hard, Greek God.
Daccia is just standing there, the bastard – stroking his massive cock. The huge, swollen tip of his dick is now drooling pre-cum like a faucet. My mouth waters at the sight of it.
I know Aurelian cocks are too massive to be able to fit inside of a human woman normally, so their species has evolved to secrete obscene amounts of pheromone-laden, slick pre-cum – as if designed specifically for seeding tight little human holes.
I shudder with desire. I’m not sure if I want to taste that pre-cum, remembering the flavor from my time with the harem – or just feel it slickly ease Daccia’s massive cock inside of me.
One thing I am sure of is that I don't feel embarrassed. I have no shame in aching to be treated like this. It's only natural for a human woman to be completely overwhelmed by lust when near Aurelians like this.
But my overwhelming lust doesn't mean I'm weak. No – I ache for the pleasure, but there’s a rational part of me that still knows I need to get this Aurelian so riled up that he can't help but take me – hard and fast, to lose everything inside me.
But Daccia stands firm.
"I'm not going to snap, you little minx,” the towering commander warns. “Unlike my battle-brothers, I'm in complete control of my body...”
His voice almost cracks – and I wonder if he’s trying to convince me…
…or himself.
“Now,” the looming warrior growls, “you're going to cum for me – like the little slut you are."
His cruel words trigger something deep inside of me. I love the way he talks down to me – like I'm just a naughty whore who needs to be punished.
The twisting, squirming tendrils filling my ass and pussy are inside me so fucking deep. They’re shuddering and vibrating, bring me closer and closer to the brink of explosion. My cheeks are bright red with humiliating pleasure, and the only thing I can do is stare at Daccia’s massive, drooling cock as he slowly strokes himself.
The bastard. He’s so turned on, watching me being turned into a whore in front of him by those squirming tentacles. I struggle against my bonds, but there's nothing I can do but take the humiliation and melt with pleasure.
9
Hadrian
Daccia returns from the medical bay. He’s a pent up, unreleased ball of tension.
Even though our leader was in a separate part of the ship, I felt in his aura the intense need to claim our woman – Allie.
Our woman. That’s how I think of her now. I know I shouldn’t. She’s a prisoner, and we are Law Enforcement agents…
But I can’t deny how she makes me feel. How the very scent of her is right.
I ashamed to admit that I wouldn’t have been able to withstand her charms, as Daccia did. I’d have succumbed and taken her hard. This is the reason he’s our leader, and I’m not. For as long as we three have known each other – ever since the bonds of battle created the Bond of our triad – I‘ve always had too much passion inside of me to make the cold, analytical decisions that need to be made: The decisions that occasionally cost lives.
I turn to our leader and ask: "Tell me: Which pheromones did she use to cause this reaction in us?"
Daccia slowly shakes his head. He turns to me – his eyes narrow, considering.
"None,” our leader eventually admits. “The AI scanned her clean. The reaction we had to her… It wasn’t caused by any drug, or artificial pheromone…"
Kitos turns from his gunnery station. He cocks his head.
"That’s impossible. She must be using some kind of trick."
Daccia snorts bitterly.
"She had two tricks: That jammer, which knocked out our Orb-Drive. That was a one-time use thing, but it's knocked out our Orb-Drive until we get this Reaver back to Colossus for repairs.” Daccia’s shoulders slump. “That means we have to make the trip using the impulse engines. Twenty-five days, it will take us."
Fuck.
Twenty-five days, sharing a cramped Reaver with that seductive minx?
If I even smell her, it's going to drive me crazy. I might even consider sleeping in this gunnery station – as far as possible away from her.
Gods, the mating rage is a constant bubble beneath the surface of my thoughts. All I want to do is unleash my passion on that minx – to seed her and discover one way or another whether or not she’s truly our Fated Mate.
<
br /> But how can I do that if we take her back to Colossus and imprison her?
Kitos clears his throat.
"Two tricks, Daccia. You said she had two tricks."
"Aye,” our leader nods. “The other one was nastier. A shock implant – one that could kill a human, or knock an Aurelian out cold."
I laugh bitterly.
"Well, she's feisty, this one – not like most weak-willed women. That triad of Elites had no idea what they were getting themselves into when they welcomed her into their harem."
Daccia fixes me with a hard stare.
"That triad lost their Elite status because of her.”
His slate-grey eyes narrow.
“They lost everything – but we have even more to lose. We've worked our way up in the ranks. I'm not going to lose all that now – to her.”
Daccia wheels around, and barks: “AI! Open communications to Law Enforcement HQ.”
The AI beeps, and a moment later the hologram screen ripples into life with the face of our commanding officer, Inspector General Haratar.
We've worked closely with Inspector Haratar for decades now. In fact, he was the one who guided us throughout our careers with Aurelian Law Enforcement – from when we were just new recruits, fresh from our hundred years of service in the Aurelian Army, to the trained and experienced officers we are today.
Inspector General Haratar honed our raw steel into a fine blade. We owe everything to him.
On screen, the Inspector clears his throat. Haratar stands tall and proud, with a pure white mustache that illustrates his senior age. I've never seen the man out of his crisply-pressed Law Enforcement uniform – and today is no exception.
Hell, when the Inspector’s not at work, I half imagine him to spend his days in his luxurious manor fully dressed in that same uniform, just waiting for an update on one of the many hundreds of cases he’s responsible for.
Many joke that Haratar is mated to his job. In fact, he took only three human women into his harem, which lends credence to that suggestion. Most Aurelians take hundreds of willing human women into their harems by the time they’ve reached his age.
