by Jaye Peaches
The creature, the glorious female, was right where they had left her, stretched out on the cushions with one arm draped over her face and the other lying on her belly. She was asleep, purring softly.
Jago tapped the hidden console on the wall and examined the log. He frowned and pointed at the display.
“A spike. Temperature rise by a subpoint and her heartrate trebled. Almost like this.” Jago showed Kriss the display from a few hours earlier.
On the floor, Shayla stirred and sat up. “Hello,” she said, evidently pleased to see them. Her pert little nipples jiggled as she rose to her feet and she remembered to clasp her hands behind her back.
Jago pivoted and puffed out his lips. “Shayla. Did you orgasm in our absence?”
Kriss admired the way her cheeks blushed bright pink and the whites of her pretty eyes turned into silvery moons. She would be a fool to deny it; she was in enough trouble already.
She dropped her chin. “Yes, sir,” she said. “How did you know?”
Jago answered. “The house is equipped with monitors that records sensory data. If it detects a medical crisis, an alarm will summon a response team. Naturally, it picks up on other physiological changes, such as sleeping, and heightened sexual arousal.”
“Oh,” she said with a grimace. “I didn’t know.”
“No, but you do now,” said Jago.
“Are there cameras too?”
“No. Images aren’t reliable.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Data can be monitored automatically. The sensors work well. Very well, as you found out.”
Kriss’s balls weighed heavy in his pants, like two iron stones. Even his cock twitched in anticipation. “Let me punish her, Jago,” he growled softly. “You know she needs to be spanked.”
His nestor walked over to the girl, who swayed like the breeze had caught hold of her. Her flushed cheeks were now paler. Jago circled her, judging her mettle in the way he inspected his troops at roll call. He would know what was best; Kriss trusted his judgement.
“Yes. Spank her,” he said finally. “I suggest her ass, rather than her breasts. With your hand, not the zapper.”
“Zapper?” she exclaimed, her paleness accentuated.
Kriss loved the zapper. He had used it on droids programmed to respond to discipline pleasure—a unique activity that ensured his craving was satisfied. Jago preferred to watch. Sometimes Kriss required their droid to be highly submissive and able to take a lengthy spanking, then on other times, he added a subroutine from a central coding library that required her to resist in little ways—kicking or flailing around. As for the flesh, the artificial skin marked easily, but also healed quickly when the droid was put back into standby mode. A real human with organic flesh might take much longer. He would have to be careful. If they damaged her, and the administrator who worked for the judge found out, Shayla would be removed and he and Jago would be exiled to some horrific enclave where the Violence was worse.
There were eyes everywhere in the form of sensors and data collectors. Random checks were common and they often confiscated log files, checking that they satisfied the Hunger and produced seed for the queen. Failing to produce the quota was a punishable offense, as was sleeping too much or not exercising. The sensors recorded everything.
“You’re going to punish me?” she stuttered.
Kriss strolled across the room, feeling the surge in his groin, an energy that strengthened his muscles and flooded his cock with hardening fluid.
Jago intercepted him, halting him halfway across the room. He whispered into Kriss’s ear. “Cool it, brother. She is not a thing, remember? What if she can’t take it? What if she breaks? We can’t repair her like a droid. And, this is about correcting her behavior, not fulfilling your needs. Your zeal for discipline does not mean you can act without impunity.”
Jago was right, of course. He steadied himself, nodding. “Yes, forgive me. I see only what I yearn for.”
“Then control it,” Jago said firmly. “Control it, and she will gift you with her own desires. I’m sure if you do this right, she will bend to you. But, until you see her response, you won’t know what she can do.”
Kriss folded his arms across his chest, stood with his legs astride, and stuck out his chin. “Shayla. Do not fear me,” he said without raising his voice.
Shayla’s eyes filled with liquid.
Kriss leaned toward Jago. “What am I doing wrong, now?”
“Your body language is not compatible to your words,” Jago replied. “Either you want her to fear you, or you don’t, make up your mind.”
Kriss lowered his voice. “If she fears me, will she like it, do you think?”
Jago shrugged. “I don’t think so. Those are tears in her eyes.”
“She cried before because it was intense, so she said.”
“Intense pleasure. Crying in fear is not the same.” Jago scratched his chin. “She should respect us, that is crucial, but I believe her respect will be more enduring if we apply ourselves as if she was a new recruit. Strict, fair, and patient. Imagine, she is like a pup, fresh out of the incubator, keen but ill-disciplined in his fighting. We teach him to behave with rewards and punishments. I think the same will work for her.”
“So, after I spank her, I should reward her for her endurance?” Kriss’s eyebrows furrowed into thin lines. He glanced over Jago’s shoulder to where Shayla stood, her lower lip trembling. Yes, there was fear, he could see that. But, he also spied the sheen at the top of her legs.
“An orgasm?”
“Perhaps forced, in such a way that she comes when her ass is spanked.”
“Ha, that I believe would educate her too. Orgasms on demand, and not when she’s alone.”
“Absolutely,” Jago nodded. “I shall observe and if necessary, advise you, but knowing you, brother, you will not need much guidance.”
Kriss relaxed and laughed. “True.”
He sauntered toward the chair, believing the relaxed posture had a calming effect. Her eyes remained huge moons. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Fear was something a soldier instilled in his enemy. It wasn’t right to do it in a woman, surely.
“Shayla,” he said, lowering his voice and stripping the harsh edge off it. “It’s going to hurt, it’s got to. But, I’m willing to keep it brisk and allow you to move and talk.”
“Move?”
Jago answered. “We restrain with pulleys or ropes those who are to be disciplined. But, Kriss is correct. You’re not a soldier or a droid, so we’ll forgo those.”
She nodded—was that her giving permission? Consent wasn’t something that entered into Kriss’s mind, but clearly it did with her.
He sat on the chair. The seat stayed rigid beneath him, but he pressed down the arms until they were as low as the seat. She gaped in amazement at the mechanics of telepathic furniture.
“You don’t have responsive chairs on Earth?” Kriss asked, amused. “Really useful. Over you go.”
She hesitated and stared at his two robust thighs. Jago nudged the small of her back.
“I’m watching,” he said. Jago liked to keep things in line. A firm, but fair leader and well respected by his troops. Kriss would follow him anywhere.
She folded her body over his lap. She weighed nothing. Her bottom, beautiful and bare, lifted into a curved apex. With her hands and feet planted on the floor, she should be rooted in place, except her limbs were trembling and the wobble transmitted into him.
He pressed the palm of his left hand onto her waist and steadied her.
“Her legs need to be further apart,” he said to Jago.
Jago crouched and took both of her ankles. He spread her legs wide, opening the groove between her ass cheeks until he saw the puckered hole.
“Fuck,” Kriss muttered under his breath.
Jago smiled. “Another time, brother.” He kept hold of her legs.
Kriss’s hand easily covered both globes, the heel on one, the fingert
ips on the other. There was already a warmth to her flesh and the softness was delicious. He’d expected the rigid rotundness of a droid. He lifted his right hand, but not too high and dropped it, using just the weight of his arm.
“Ow,” she hollered.
The hand print was bright red and instantaneous. He examined it with the tip of a finger. The rise in heat was also immediate. He liked what he saw, especially the glow of her skin. He mapped out the next location with the span of his palm. Slightly lower, where the thighs met the ass. He raised his hand and lowered it again. The smack echoed around the room.
She jolted and attempted to kick her feet up, forcing Jago to keep a firm hold of her ankles.
“Oh, God,” she cried.
He noted the puckered bud flexed. Was that an opening he saw?
Her ass was hot and firmer. She’d tensed, which must make the spanking more painful. What a crazy reaction. Couldn’t she stop herself?
“She’s not a robot,” Jago whispered, reading his mind. The telepathy wasn’t real, they were just very good at following the same line of thoughts.
“Yeah,” he snorted. “But, she’s working my cock into a rod and it’s only been two.”
“She’s definitely having an effect on you,” Jago said.
Kriss unleashed the third smack higher this time, careful to avoid her lower spine. He wasn’t an idiot.
On the fourth, she wriggled from side to side and paddled the floor with her hands. He worked out that the angle was critical—if he swept his hand across rather than down, it left a decent redness, but didn’t appear to upset her quite as much. He picked up pace while delivering lighter smacks. Small blotches of purple deepened alongside pink—she was turning colorful, like a painting.
She squealed rather than cried. There was something exciting about the way she squirmed and twisted, clawed at the floor with her nails and tried to kick her legs. She wasn’t resisting, she was responding. A droid would lie there and scream, because they were programmed to scream. What Kriss and Jago were witnessing was spontaneous and real.
Shayla sobbed. Kriss had lost count—probably thirty or so? He glanced at Jago, who was focused on something else. From his lower position, he had a good view of her sex.
“She’s puffed up and glistening like dew,” Jago whispered. “Keep spanking, not too hard now, just enough to keep her hot.”
He wasn’t referring to the soaring temperature of her ass. Kriss smiled. “Sure.”
Adjusting the height of his arm, he patted her rump lightly, but so fast, she was left breathless. She hung her head and whimpered.
Kriss glanced at Jago, who was sliding his hand up her inner thigh. “She crying?” Kriss asked.
“Shayla? You’re going to stay put, yes?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with a surprisingly controlled voice. “I’m sorry I touched myself.”
An apology? Sweet. Droids never apologized.
“So, you’re going to come now, okay?” Jago said. His fingertips reached between her legs.
“Yes, sir,” she gasped.
“Carry on, Kriss, Nice and steady, like you’re fucking her.” Jago referred to the rhythm of the spanks.
Kriss got the message. He alternated between each cheek while Jago thrust his fingers in and out of her drenched fuck hole. She quivered all over, from head to toe. With his left hand, he twirled a lock of hair into his fist and carefully raised her so he could see her face.
“Tears,” he commented for Jago’s benefit, “but, her eyes are crystal clear. Keep going. She’s panting.”
“I want to come,” she murmured.
“I’m going to give you a few hard smacks as you do. This is a punishment, Shayla.”
“Sir,” she groaned, resigned to her fate with a flushed face and slightly parted lips.
Jago was working hard to bring her to completion. He had three fingers plunged into her pussy.
“Now, now,” he demanded.
Kriss smacked her ass extra hard. She screamed and in the same moment, her body started to shake. Her leg muscles spasmed and her toes curled. He slapped her bottom again, meeting each visible contraction with a punishing spank.
“Oh, please,” she pleaded. For what? Mercy or more?
He let go of her hair and her head flopped forward.
“I can feel it,” Jago said, beaming from ear to ear. “She’s fucking my fingers with her come.”
The ripples continued along with her moaning. Her whole body slumped heavily against him. Now he felt her weight, her presence. Jago’s fingers slipped out and he shook his hand.
“She’s so wet, I could have put my hand in her,” he remarked.
Shayla breathed a sigh. Kriss stroked his palm in circles around each scorching buttock. The heat spread and eased at the same time. Under her, his cock was massive, almost as big as on the day of the Hunger. Ironically, he felt pain in it, as if her punishment was his too.
Jago helped her up, holding her under each armpit until her legs stopped shaking. Her eyes were closed. The tears dried up. Kriss stared at her nipples, which were engorged and dark, as tempting as the fruit he’d tasted on Ressna Two, the home of the most delicious plums. She rested the back of her head on Jago’s shoulder.
“The next time we will use the zapper,” Jago warned her.
She opened her eyes; the pupils were dark and reactive. “I guess I’d better behave.” There was a mischievous glint to them.
Chapter Four
Shayla stirred and pushed aside the cushion she’d inadvertently been hugging to her chest. The nest was surprisingly comfortable and the cushions themselves had some ability to respond to her body temperature. At no point in the night had she been too hot or cold. As for her companions, they’d not slept next to her. She had mixed feelings about that—was it a good or bad sign?
She gingerly reached behind her back and touched her bottom. There was a residual warmth, a minor throbbing on the peak of each lobe, but otherwise she wasn’t suffering any major aftereffects. She did, however, recall the terrible sting of those early rigid smacks and the blaze generated by the flurry of the lighter ones. Was it as bad as she expected? The jury was out on that—she was under the impression that Kriss had been lenient.
And was it worth the orgasm that Jago skillfully conjured out of her ramped-up sex? Yes, fuck, yes. A stupendous one and far better than any machine-driven one. Would she keep her hands off her clit from now on? Again, she was undecided. Best to wait and see what they had in store for her over the coming days.
They were over on the other side of the room, talking softly. They ate standing up. Dining was not a social activity. Carefully, she rose to her feet and tiptoed into the bathroom. She peered over her shoulder at the mirror, half-expecting to see dark bruises on her behind. But, no. There were a few reddish spots and one obvious finger mark. How disappointing. She wanted more evidence to justify the smarting rebukes of Kriss’s enormous hand. Again, she suspected, another spanking might not be so lightly delivered.
Returning to the main room, she pressed her hand to her rumbling stomach. Jago looked up and waved her over.
“Come, eat.” He pushed a cube across the small worktop.
She ignored the taste of nothingness and pretended it was chocolate. God, she missed chocolate. What else was she going to hanker for in the coming weeks and months?
A bell sounded and she jumped, dropping the half-eaten cube onto the surface.
Kriss crossed the floor to the entrance. The doorbell! She grinned and relaxed. How quaint to think they had doorbells, too. She chewed slowly and glanced at Jago who seemed unperturbed by the early morning disturbance. Nothing unexpected, it seemed.
A shard of sunlight accompanied the caller, who was cast in silhouette and holding something in its arms. ‘It’ was the right description—another mechanical droid with no facial features other than eyeballs in the middle of a flat metal disc and skinless arms and legs. Why bother even to attempt to make it humanoid? The box
was handed over to Kriss. No words, no thank yous.
Jago cleared his throat. “Something for you, Shayla.”
“Me?”
Kriss placed the package on the worktop. “Jago’s idea.”
Jago started to undo the seal. “It came quicker than I thought. I only put the request in late last night while you slept.”
She bit on her lip. She had been very sleepy, and somewhat sore. “What is it?”
Jago lifted something out and shook it. “Unfortunately, female clothing isn’t stocked, so I ordered a small tunic, which given your height, probably should reach your knees.”
He held up the short-sleeved garment. It almost resembled a dress. The color was beige and there were no seams. What it lacked was shape—it would probably hang off her.
She touched the fabric; incredibly soft and finely woven. “I thought...” They were dressed and she wasn’t, and although she wasn’t cold, she was vulnerable in her nudity. “I thought I was supposed to shun clothing.”
Jago held out the tunic. “Who says? Nobody told me.” He shrugged. “Of course, it’s only to be worn when we’re out. I just assumed you’d like a covering if you went for a walk outside. You’re not a prisoner.”
“Oh,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
Kriss leaned on the worktop; he had a sly expression. “Naturally, while it covers you, you’ll not see yourself. Perhaps it will help you. You know, no touching?” He raised both his eyebrows in a warning gesture.
Shayla kept her lips pressed together and stayed silent. If only it was her lack of nudity that kept her mind for wandering into dangerous territory. She doubted not being about to see her bareness would have much impact on her imagination.
“Try it on,” Jago urged.
She slipped the tunic over her head and arms. It covered her bottom and the tops of her thighs, brushed over her breasts and down to her elbows. However, it wasn’t quite the sack she was expecting. Although designed for masculine form, the usual wearer was probably a slender man and not the muscular form of her nestors.
“It’s good,” she said politely.
Jago laughed. “It’s for a boy. A cadet. When they’re out of the incubators, they have little muscle. Once they’ve trained, they would burst out of this. For you, it fits quite well. Not too baggy around the hips and breasts.”
