by Jaye Peaches
Theirs to Share
By
Jaye Peaches
Copyright © 2019 by Stormy Night Publications and Jaye Peaches
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Peaches, Jaye
Theirs to Share
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by 123RF/Andrey Guryanov, Shutterstock/Vadim Sadovski, and iStock/MRBIG_PHOTOGRAPHY
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
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Chapter One
“She’ll be waiting for us,” Jago said to Kriss as they hurried along the path. Jago’s strides easily outpaced the slightly shorter Kriss; however, Kriss was used to keeping up. The pair were rarely apart.
Kriss smiled in response and they strode to the entrance of their home, a spacious habitat by the Endless Lake. Jago reached the door first. It opened with a whoosh, the familiar breeze of conditioned air so unlike the heavy humidity outside.
She was waiting exactly where he hoped she’d be—opposite the door and naked. Painted toenails; he’d never seen such a thing. Her feet were planted neatly together, her chin was lowered and her hands were behind her back. Loops of hair licked around her oval face and although her eyes weren’t visible, she had a straight nose with a slightly raised tip. She tapered at the waist, then out again; she wasn’t lacking in fullness around the hips and was most pleasing to the eye. What delighted him the most was the rise and fall of her breasts. She was breathing, and fast, too.
When the door closed behind them, she spoke.
“Masters. I welcome you home.” She had a high voice, but not shrill or squeaky. It had a melodic edge to it, rather than metallic or artificial—such a contrast to their customary greeting.
Jago beamed at Kriss. “She’s real, isn’t she?”
“Unbelievable. I never thought this day would come when we’d have a real girl in our home.”
Jago waved her over to them and she walked on tiptoes until she halted an arms’ length away.
“Shayla, isn’t it?” Jago asked. “Your given name.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir. The name given at birth.”
“She was born. Amazing,” Kriss exclaimed. “Not hatched.”
Her cheeks blushed. “I was birthed by my mother.”
Jago reached out and lifted her chin with his fingertip. “You know that we are incubated in nests, don’t you? They taught you that on Earth?”
“Yes, sir. I listened carefully during the lectures. I studied the scrolls of Hezara.” She spoke so softly, Jago had to tilt his head to hear. She was timid. A natural behavior, not programmed, unlike the sexdroids whom they usually fucked.
“Then you understand that Kriss and I came from the same nest. We hatched on the same day and consequently, we are heart twins—nestors. What one loves, so does the other.” He and Kriss had been raised and trained together, never separated at any time for more than a few days.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered. “Heart twins.”
Jago slid his finger along her neckline, down past her proud collarbone and across the warmth of her breast. Her nipple stiffened and turned damson. The rise and fall of her breasts intensified as she snatched a breath. He lifted the nipple with the knuckle of his forefinger.
“Smooth skin,” he commented to Kriss. “Touch her.”
Kriss followed the same path from neck to nipple with his own finger. “These are natural breasts.”
Jago cupped one, spanning his fingers around the roundness and gave it a gentle squeeze. Shayla released a tiny moan. Kriss followed his lead. He, too, circled a breast and embraced it in his palm.
“The sexdroids just don’t feel like this,” Kriss remarked.
Jago agreed. The manufactured droids—artificial constructs sheathed in cloned skin and flesh—were a poor substitute for a real woman, especially an Earthling. The men of Hezara sought out many lifeforms to satisfy their urges, but until they discovered Earth, few had managed to fulfill their wishes. To cope with their demands, the Junta, the ruling body of Hezaran men, had ordered an army of sexdroids to be built and those so-called women provided some relief while scouts hunted for new females on other worlds.
As for natural reproduction, it was incredible to think that Earthlings used sex as a means to procreate. Hezara built their nests—high-tech incubators in secret vaults—and utilized the queens to fertilize each progeny without the female donor ever having to leave the confines of the incubator hub. The queens were considered too precious to live freely or be touched by anyone other than the procreation experts. Beyond the breeding center, females had become unnecessary, so history had taught the men of Hezara, but centuries later, the battle-hardened warriors had come to miss the pleasure of females in their lives. The Hunger had grown stronger with each generation. What had once happened with each passing of the moon was becoming more frequent and time-consuming. The Junta could no longer hide the problem of the Hunger.
Every ten days, Jago was overwhelmed by the urge to spawn his life force, his seed. His muscles strengthened and bulged, his heart roared with pounding beats until it was visible through his chest, and his cock would thicken and stay stiff for hours and hours. Kriss, being his nestor, followed the same pattern of days, and together they reached the Hunger and performed the rites. One day out of ten was sacrificed to the Hunger.
Their next Hunger was due in six days. Six days to decide whether Shayla could survive the demands of it.
Jago’s finger continued to trail down her flat belly. Shayla’s skin rippled with goosebumps.
“You’re not cold, are you?” he asked.
“No, sir.” Her cheeks flushed brighter. Was that a lie? Were humans prone to faking? Something was making her quiver. How easy would it be to tell if a human lied? The women were trained, not programmed, which meant they had the potential to exhibit the wrong output. Sexdroids rarely broke down and were easily reprogrammed.
Kriss’s hand chose a different route. He moved to stand behind her and his hand skated down her spine toward her furrow.
“Plump ass. Lovely curves,” he noted.
“Spread your legs, Shayla,” Jago said.
She swayed and slid her feet apart.
“Bend over, so Kriss can see.” Jago looped his hand around her neck and angled her head down. She folded over without resistance. “Good?” he asked Kriss.
“Open. Pink with the flow of blood.” Kriss crouched down to inspect her closer. “Folds are smooth. Come see for yourself. She’s remarkable.”
The young, plainly virile woman sucked a breath of air in and steadied herself.
She said nothing. If she felt humiliated by their intimate examination, she shouldn’t be. They’d claimed her when they accepted the Gift; he and Kriss had full access to her.
Kriss held her ample buttocks apart and Jago leaned toward her ass to see her opening.
“This wetness is natural.” Jago noted the sheen covering her outer sex lips. “It needs to be there to ensure she can accommodate our cocks.”
“So I gather. I’m just so excited that she needs to be stretched. When I think of those sexdroids, having to specify our cock sizes so that they fit, it’s amazing to think this creature will perform that task naturally.”
“Indeed, although her asshole will need to be treated carefully.”
Her legs were shaking, and she gripped her ankles tighter.
“Such a gift,” Kriss exclaimed as he rose. “To think we’ve been honored to have an Earthling.”
Jago slapped his nestor on his back. “We’ve earned it. We’ve led combat units into six worlds and taken a few wounds as a result. We’ve been due this for a while.” He tapped the girl’s back. “Stand, Shayla.”
She returned to her previous position—upright, head bowed, and hands behind her back.
“Keep your knees apart at all times,” he reminded her.
She shuffled her feet until her thighs separated.
“Good,” he said.
Earth, the barbaric planet, was required to send a steady flow of females and in return, Hezara provided protection from the Violence that stalked the galaxy. They sheathed the little planet with a force field and their vast space station orbited the planet, monitoring the space channels for any incoming threats, especially the Beasts that orchestrated the Violence. Since Hezara had discovered Earth, effectively overpowering it with their might, they’d left humans to their own devices. The planet had plenty wrong with it and interfering was unnecessary. All Hezarans needed were females.
To accommodate the wishes of Hezara, the leaders of Earth had decided that gifting their women was the best approach rather than having them abducted. If Hezara left them alone then what price was a few thousand women every year to pay for Earth’s protection? They were carefully selected, educated, and trained to be as perfect as possible, then in an elaborate ceremony, the naked women were handed over, sent to the space station, and from there distributed to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. So few in numbers compared to the men of Hezara—one real woman for every thousand men. They were a prized possession and valued as a luxurious commodity and without them, men had to satisfy their Hunger with sexdroids. Droids were hardly comparable, said the lucky few who’d experienced the difference.
“You understand what is to happen to you?” Jago asked.
“Yes, sir,” Shayla said.
“Then tell me.”
“I am to assist you with the Hunger and ensure your happiness.”
“How?”
“I must obey your wishes, temper my own desires, bring to you the best of me. On that day, I must join with you and your nestor for as long as it takes to satisfy the Hunger within you. Then, it is my day of rest and we begin again. Every ten days.”
She spoke the rote with a practiced ease. Well-trained. A good start.
Jago noted the sheen that had slithered down her inner thighs—it glistened, the wetness she produced so readily. It meant the very thought of the Hunger excited her. His cock stiffened too. Kriss had a huge bulge in his pants.
“If you are able to match us, you will travel wherever we go until we deem you unneeded.” Jago wanted that to be as long as possible.
Kriss smiled, seeming to mirror Jago’s imaginative thoughts.
Jago hardened his expression. “There is one more matter, Shayla. Tell me, what happens when you disobey us?”
She stiffened, and her nipples grew even more prominent. “I’m punished.”
“Would you disobey us?”
She paused before answering, perhaps a few seconds and she quickly licked her lips. “Never.”
Jago turned to Kriss. His nestor hadn’t picked up on the hesitation. Kriss was not as astute in the nuances of human behavior, but Jago had definitely heard the delay. So, she wasn’t quite as perfect as he’d been promised. Did it matter? Probably not. He was tired of the false pleasantries of the sexdroid and a little feistiness would suit him fine. Kriss on the other hand would expect perfect obedience and would likely want to correct her for the slightest infraction.
The pair of them would work well together. Kriss would ensure Shayla settled into her role with discipline and Jago would apply a more measured approach. Strict, but caring.
“Good,” Jago said. “Have you familiarized yourself with our habitat?”
“Yes, sir. It is very nice here. I like the view.”
“One of the best in the city,” Kriss declared proudly. “You’ll find it very soothing during your meditations.”
She nodded, her confidence growing. “I will, I’m sure.”
Jago took her hand and wrapped his around it. She was trembling. He gave it a squeeze. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s begin.”
Shayla knelt. “How may I serve you, Masters?”
Chapter Two
Three years earlier...
Shayla Tesser’s new life as a Gift began when the Committee for Interspecies Governance selected her from a list of suitable contenders. She never asked to be on the list, and the day they knocked on the door and demanded that she attend the academy she knew that things would never be the same again. Their decision was sacrosanct and anyone’s attempt at changing or interfering with it meant a costly penalty.
There was no coercion, no forced kidnapping, but the arrival of several people at her home, the stern expressions and reminders of the shame of refusing left her with little choice but to go with them. There was no manhandling or cuffs, but nobody left her alone, just in case she attempted to leave. For the first few days, she was in state of confusion and shock. Passed from one interviewer to another, questioned, poked and prodded about anything to do with her sexuality, her previous lovers, who had been nothing more than kisses and cuddles on the couch, she realized she had deeper desires that she’d kept hidden.
On the last day of her appraisal, she was brought before the committee and told to strip naked. The spotlights above her head dazzled and hid their faces, only their voices echoed around the chamber. She fumbled with her rudimentary clothing—she’d been denied underwear. Chasing away the nerves, she dug deep into her resolve. There was no escape, nowhere to go that didn’t involve worse embarrassment. A rejected Gift would mean a badge of dishonor and poor prospects. To help prepare herself, she imagined the invisible committee were hot-blooded men with big appetites for her flesh, and the ridiculous daydream quickened her heart and brought a wave of tingles down her spine. She tossed aside her clothing and stood before them with her hands by her sides. For a few seconds, the silence dragged on until one man spoke.
“Beautiful. She’ll serve us well. She is a good example of the perfect Gift.”
The relief of passing the inspection surprised her. It had to mean she wanted this opportunity to escape her unexciting life, even if she had to submit to humiliating training. In a matter of days, those anonymous faces had taken an innocent woman and awoken something inside her. What that was would unfold in the coming years.
From then on, she was kept in a protective bubble and apart from others. She underwent the necessary specialist training at the academy and became something of a celebrity. She spoke to the mass media of Earth, promising them she would perform her duties to the highest standards. From across the globe people sent their congratulations and well-wishes. The attention at first was a boost, but as the day of her departure approached, the constant stream of interviews and ceremonies started to impact her nerves.
Shayla wasn’t a normal woman with a normal life; she’d been tutored by many surrogates in a cocoon designed to nurture her strengths and
discourage her weaknesses. The goal was to prepare her for the Hunger-driven men of Hezara. Part of her was curious—what exactly they would demand from her? There was another part of her that she kept hidden, one that harbored the niggling doubts that haunted her dreams and required hours of meditation to tame.
The secretive training was devoted to the art of sexual pleasure, and in particular style practiced by the men of Hezara. Most of it was conducted through the use of virtual reality environments. She learned their language and rituals including the bizarre concept of nestors who shared everything without jealousy. The virtual world felt real enough, but it wasn’t really; she knew that reality would offer different sensations and emotions. Her mother, who’d disappeared out of her life with another man when she was small, contacted her once to claim Shayla was the victim of brainwashing. Shayla never heard a peep from her after that and wondered if she’d been arrested for subverting the law that strictly prohibited criticizing Hezara.
Fortunately, although criticism was forbidden, curiosity was allowed.
“They’ll spank you,” said her favorite tutor. Alfraya had warned her during one of her early sessions on sexual behavior, and not long after she joined the academy at eighteen. “Expect to be spanked regularly for the slightest error. They are exacting men who firmly believe in correction.”
“On my bottom?” Shayla asked.
“Yes. Of course since you are naked all the time, it will be bare bottomed.”
Shayla’s jaw dropped. “Won’t it hurt?”
Alfraya lifted Shayla’s chin and patted her hand in an almost reassuring manner. “Naturally. It’s supposed to hurt, but they won’t harm you. Remember, Gifts are returned to Earth once they are retired by Hezara and the knowledge they bring back is crucial to the next generation of Gifts. So, don’t fret, spanking will cause you discomfort but no lasting impediments. They will also punish you in other ways that you may find challenging but not impossible to bear.”
“Challenging.” Shayla swallowed hard. “Do you know exactly what they might do?”
