Theirs to Share

by Jaye Peaches

  She had to agree, her bosom filled the cavity. She started to remove it, as required, but Jago raised his hand. “Keep it on. We’re going out.”

  “What should I do?” She was daunted by the thought of all those hours on her own, waiting for them to return from their duties. How was she going to kill that time?

  “Bathe,” Kriss suggested. “Walk, exercise. Meditate.” He listed rather mundane things.

  “How do you spend your time when you’re not working?” she asked.

  Jago drew her closer to him and ringed her waist with his arms. “We fuck.”

  A shiver went down the full length of her spine and her sensitive pussy clenched. She swallowed hard. “Just that?”

  “That’s all we need.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. “Just you. So stay fit. Don’t get into trouble. We’ll be back and then you’ll wish you’d taken the time to relax.”

  Kriss whispered into her ear, “The Hunger is coming.”

  * * *

  The walk along the fringe of the lake was pleasantly restful. Above her head, the sun warmed her hair and its yellow rays cast shadows amongst the bushes and trees. The expansive lake was tinged with a blueness and lapped gently, as if influenced by a tide. There were three moons orbiting Odesta, so it was possible. In the distance were the gigantic towers of the city, the central hub for the region, known as the Lakeland City.

  The city was where the workers lived away from the soldiers; the latter were granted the prize of lakeside houses. The warriors were given human gifts for their bravery, while those deemed not suitable for fighting were rewarded for their stamina with other benefits, such as a few sessions with a sexdroid when the Hunger came calling. Or, they could buy food that tasted special, unlike the free stuff that Shayla considered so bland it was like eating cardboard.

  The first house she encountered was shuttered. She guessed the occupants were away on a campaign, probably on another planet that Hezara controlled or fighting the Violence. She was starting to see Hezara as some kind of galactic security force who arrived uninvited and took over, insisting only they had the ability to see off the Violence of the Beasts. She shivered, wondering what horrors the Beasts perpetuated that granted a militaristic species the authority to oversee the safety of other planets.

  The next house was in the shade of palm trees. No shutters. Using the shadows as cover, she crept along the path until she was a short distance away from the curved window that overlooked the lake. She could make out most of the main living space. The house was occupied; she saw movement. There were men inside and what looked like a woman, except it wasn’t an ordinary woman. It had to be a sexdroid.

  Crouching down, Shayla hid behind a few fronds of a low shrub and watched. She couldn’t help herself. The voyeurism was necessary; she had to find out more about the sexdroids.

  There were four men. Four nestors. Like her heart twins, they shared features of the common mother, the queen of their incubator, but they also had differences in hair and height. All four of them were naked and as they circled around the room and came closer to the glass, she spotted their immense erections. Just like Jago and Kriss, their cocks were illuminated and colorful; all of theirs though were green, not purple.

  The sexdroid came into view. She had the features of a female: generous breasts, a visible pubic slit, and two buttocks that parted as she bent. Shayla caught sight of her opening—it was wide and perfectly round. Her breasts didn’t hang when she bent over, they remained firm and shaped. It was then that Shayla noticed the real differences. The nipples were larger than Shayla’s, the waist was narrowed so that a man could span his hands around it easily. The buttocks were ample to the point they were an exaggeration and the legs ridiculously long.

  The droid also had no separate toes. Or belly button, which wasn’t a surprise really—the nestors didn’t either. Her hair was gathered into one ponytail and as the sunlight caught her head, Shayla noted her scalp was hairless except for that artificial ponytail, which seemed more like an implant. Her eyebrows were thin lines, her lips molded into a circular pout. The throat lacked the definition of veins or sinews, and her ears were flat against the side of her head as if sewn back. The more Shayla saw of the sexdroid, the more it was apparent she was a machine, a construct that lacked the necessary features of a living creature. She wouldn’t need to breathe and wouldn’t be able to feel the quickening of a pulse. There would be no adrenaline rush or heightened sensations. The sexdroid was a performer, a robot.

  When she bent over, her hands pressed flat to the floor in a fluid movement, and then without preamble, the first nestor in the house rammed his cock into her. There was no reaction from the plastic sexdroid, no visible tensing of muscles or expression of discomfort or pleasure. Shayla wished she could hear what they said, but the house was soundproof.

  She watched mesmerized as the man, who had black hair and a pointed nose, pounded his sexdroid. He reached beneath and crushed her breasts into his hands. Another man lifted her head with the ponytail and thrust into her open mouth. No tears, no gagging. One after the other, they took turns to fuck her pussy from behind and her mouth, never letting her take a break. She didn’t need one, of course. She didn’t have to catch her breath or quench her thirst.

  The men’s cocks grew bigger, swelling further and the threads in their cocks shone bright green. A few times, they wiped the sweat from each other’s brows, slapped each other’s backs or pumped with their fists as if to egg each other on.

  Shayla was enthralled and terrified. This was the Hunger in action: relentless fucking. All manner of dark thoughts flooded into her mind. She wanted to know what it felt like to be taken over and over, to be handed from one man to the next. She couldn’t stop the tantalizing images flashing through her mind. But, at the same time, she felt sorry for the droid, even if the thing couldn’t feel pain or emotions. The men wanted her to act real, and the droid couldn’t. She was only as good as her programming. From that sympathy rose the anxiety. There was no way Shayla could cope with this level of sexual frenzy.

  The men stopped, stood the droid upright and fingered her, as if to check she was still functional. She smiled at them, saying something. One man shrugged and shook his head. He picked up a device, a small box and fiddled with it. The smile vanished from the droid’s face and she went stiff, as if switched off. The man flicked a button and she reanimated, this time without the smile. The artificial eyes widened into white pools of alarm, as if she had been told to be afraid, and she stretched her hands above her head. From out of the ceiling lowered two linked chains and on the ends were cuffs.

  They bound her wrists and the chains lifted her up onto her tiptoes. Shayla struggled to watch as they prepared her for more of their fun.

  “She’s not real,” she said to herself, as if it might reassure her.

  They were taking her anally, and given the positioning of two men next to each other, both of them at the same time. The men’s faces were ecstatic. Shayla’s heart was in her mouth. This was nothing like the videos she watched on Earth. After all the men had their time with the droid, they released her bonds. Shayla had witnessed not only the boundless energy of the nestors, but the droid, which needed no respite or comfort. She also noted they didn’t bother to bathe or soothe her—it. There was nothing feminine left when stripped down to an object.

  When they snapped their fingers, it jumped onto all fours and crawled onto one man who lay flat on the floor. It mounted his upright cock, then it was swiftly taken from behind and its mouth, too. Triple penetration with apparent ease and no resistance. Only one man stood watching, a large cup in one hand, his cock in the other. The man was milking himself and emptying the spillage into the glass container. He’d achieved his goal, but the others seemed far from finished.

  How long... she dared not think about it. The Hunger lasted hours, she’d been told. Hours of this? There was no possible way even with two nestors she could take this amount of fucking.

 
She backed away, crawling through the bushes until she was sure it was safe to stand. Once on her feet, she ran back to her house. Why, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t running away from anyone, and if she was running to somebody, it would be her heart twins and an unknown fate. It was crazy to think they might understand her concerns. They were expecting her to submit to them and now that she knew what they expected, she wondered if they would demand her obedience too.

  There was only one thing she could do to placate her fears for the future: discover the truth about the nestors, incubators and the queens, determine how much they really needed her, which meant following her father’s request and finding the courage to interact with the oracle.

  * * *

  She stared at the shiny globe of the oracle and weighed up the pros and cons of touching it. She’d only been with the nestors a day and already she was risking everything. What if it was booby trapped and an alarm went off somewhere—who would come running? Or maybe it was rigged to only respond to certain palm prints. Then, if it let her touch it, what if she couldn’t interact with it? She was human and her brain probably functioned different to the planet’s inhabitants. Was it like speaking different languages?

  There was so much that could go wrong, which probably meant it wasn’t going to work anyway. So... go for it.

  She eased herself into the chair—the oracle was on a pedestal—and held out both of her hands. Were one or two hands required? Her heart pounded as she inched her fingers closer. Something like static, a tingle of electricity, tickled her palms. She snatched her hands back. Would it hurt her?

  Chewing on her lip, she approached the globe again. Slightly smaller than a soccer ball, the span of her hands didn’t quite encompass its circumference. The tingling intensified, but it wasn’t painful, merely disconcerting. How to ask questions of a telepathic computer? Was it like the interfaces on Earth where you shouted a question and it provided an answer in a somewhat arrogant tone of voice? What question should she frame?

  Realizing the risks were high, she opted for something that wasn’t controversial. If alarm bells did go off, she could plead curiosity and if the oracle logged her query then at least it wouldn’t be too hard to explain.

  She touched the cool metal and held her breath.

  No electric shocks. No alarms. In fact, nothing. She waited for something to leap into her mind, a foreign voice or an image of something that resembled a computer. What the hell was a computer to these aliens anyway? They referred to the oracle as a repository of knowledge, an encyclopedia.

  I am the horizon.

  The strange thought entered her head and lodged itself there. The thought wasn’t hers though. The oracle had answered her question. Okay, she now knew it understood her. So think carefully... it read her thoughts so...

  You lack clarity. Please rephrase your query.

  Cheeky thing.

  I do not understand. Please rephrase your query.

  She shuffled forward. The oracle was shouting at her, or so it seemed. But everything was happening in her head. Focus...

  Is a means to clarify. I concur. Please rephrase—

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

  Profanity. Please rephrase your query.

  “Where are Jago and Kriss,” she whispered.

  The current location of personnel named Jago and Kriss is their primary station.

  Okay... where the hell was that?

  Hell is not their location.

  Please clarify their current location, she thought very hard about that question and imagined her two nestors side by side. The oracle immediately bounced back an image, not words in her head. The image was of two uniformed men inside a dark building. She thought she heard voices. Was that a woman’s voice?

  Her most divine majesty, the queen. Mother of all men.

  Jago and Kriss were with the queen?

  They guard her.

  She leapt back away from the globe. Her heart twins were the queen’s guardians? How amazing was that? It meant they worked in the incubator hub and had access to the very information she needed.

  The tingling in her hand slowly dissipated. The globe was silent, inert. She shook her head, as if to dislodge the last fragments of the alien computer from her mind. She was quite alone again.

  She half-expected the door to spring open and for her nestors to rush in, or possibly some enforcement droid with a gun. She waited, breathing heavily. Nothing happened. The oracle wasn’t rigged with sensors, or none that warranted immediate investigation. Dare she probe again?

  She decided to wait. She had a headache. A thought crossed her tired mind. Every house probably had an oracle. And nobody seemed to lock their doors. She rose, crossed over to the vast window, and identified the house where she’d witnessed the Hunger. If she could gain access to that place, maybe...

  The door behind her opened. She hurried over, throwing off her tunic and knelt before the two men.

  “She’s gorgeous,” Kriss said. “I still can’t believe she’s ours.”

  Jago touched the crown of her head. “Did you have a restful day?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your cheeks are flushed.” Jago walked over to the sensor panel and tapped it.

  “Has she?” Kriss asked, too keenly.

  “No. She bathed. Went out.”

  “For a walk,” she said.

  “Good. And, slightly raised pulse and heartrate for half an hour upon return. I suppose that is normal after exercise.” Jago returned to her side. “A little warmup.”

  Her heartrate increased. “Yes,” she agreed.

  It wasn’t long before they joined her on the cushions. She reveled in the splendid sight of their nakedness, the purple lines that webbed their cocks and loins illuminated the girth of their erections.

  Jago kissed her nipples while Kriss lowered his mouth to her bare mound. “I want to taste her,” he said.

  His tongue lashed her prominent clitoris and she juddered. Meanwhile, Jago sucked the entirety of her nipple into his mouth and stretched it. He toyed with her other nipple with his fingertips and rubbed his cock against her hipbone. The impatience of the previous day was gone. Both men wanted the opportunity to explore her body using the most sensual parts of their body—lips, fingertips, tongue, and the smooth glans of their heavy cocks. Their eagerness gave her little opportunity to reciprocate. She squirmed appropriately, sighing loudly, just to make sure they understood she was enjoying every second. It wasn’t an act though, she realized, as her eyes fluttered and her heart quickened. She was really delighting in their attention.

  Something long and fleshy dipped inside her open sex lips. Kriss’s head was wedged between her quivering legs, his nose pressed to her mound.

  “Your tongue!” she shrilled.

  He lifted his head and showed her his open mouth. His tongue was twice the length she expected it to be and appeared tubular and rigid. “What the—”

  Jago silenced her with a kiss, blocking her view. The kiss worked, she exhaled and regained her composure. “What is it?” she whispered.

  “We call it the whale.” He chuckled. “You have whales on Earth?”

  She nodded.

  “Big tongues that capture little fishes. Kriss is able to alter the shape of his tongue. It’s an enhancement.”

  The tongue, the enhancement, was working its magic, flitting in and out of her pussy. She panted and gripped the nearby cushions in her fists.

  “Enhancement,” she stammered. “Do you have one?” Kriss’s tongue was somewhere deep inside her now, licking her out.

  Jago smiled. “Nothing that benefits you.”

  She squealed. “What’s he doing down there?”

  Jago peered past her midriff. “It seems that he’s so taken with fucking with his tongue, it is now the size and shape of a small penis. I guess humans don’t usually do these kinds of things?”

  “No,” she said faintly. “It’s usually my mouth that takes a cock in it.”

&n
bsp; Below, the bolstered projectile of Kriss’s tongue shot in and out of her. She wriggled, the sensation was infuriatingly ticklish and unlike being fucked with a cock, it held her in a constant state of near-orgasm—neither big enough to truly satisfy, nor small enough to ignore. And the thing came out of his mouth!

  “You don’t like it?” Jago asked. “He might stop if you ask. He’s quite in the flow of things though. Normally, when he does this to a droid, they don’t get so wet and frisky. Does she taste good?” he asked Kriss.

  Kriss withdrew and lifted his chin. He licked his lips and grinned. “Brilliant. So much better than those manufactured flavors. Cunt flavor is pure natural.”

  She shivered at the vulgar description, finding it both distasteful and arousing.

  Jago flicked her nipple and she jolted. “Want a taste of me?”

  She nodded eagerly. Jago shifted to kneel behind her head and she tipped her head back. He kindly placed a cushion under her neck and shoulders to support it.

  “Comfortable?” he asked.

  Kriss resumed his leisurely tasting session and, as his hands roved aimlessly, he combined it with strokes of her lower belly and clitoris. How long could he keep his tongue like that? Ages, probably, it wasn’t as if it needed to ejaculate. What a crazy world she’d come to.

  Jago tapped her chin and she obediently opened her mouth as wide as her jaw would allow.

  “Good thing... I mean human.” He shook his head at his mistake. “I still can’t believe it.” He leaned over her, the head of his cock driving toward her mouth. “That you’re real and... so fucking beautiful.”

  The compliment made up for his error. Knowing she was fulfilling their dreams, she sparkled inside and out. The moment of pleasure was brief. His cock plunged into her mouth, passed her flattened tongue and into the confines of her narrow throat. She spluttered and struggled to breathe. Towering over her, his head tilted to the ceiling, his cock and balls deep inside her, he grabbed the sides of her head and cried out.