Authors: Tracy St. John
Tags: #erotic science fiction
She shook her head. “My Master will stop if I decide it’s too much. I trust that.”
Joy that had nothing to do with lust flamed bright in Diltan’s heart. Trust. Nothing but love itself could compare with such a gift. It thrilled him to his core.
He caressed her face, letting touch speak the tenderness absent from his words. “Very well then, my sweet slave. Ten spanks for your pretty pussy, naughty girl. You will thank me for each one or I add on more. Do you understand?”
Her eyes shone. “Yes, Master.”
Diltan leaned away so that he had easy access to her pussy. He looked at the beautiful flesh spayed open before him, awaiting its correction. Juices slid from between those tender petals. Wet. For him. Eager to please.
It was a good thing his dicks were already out of his pants, bobbing before him with the veins knotting the skin. They were painful enough with being confined.
Diltan took a deep breath. He cupped his hand and raised it. Cissy’s eye widened, her mouth dropped open as if in preparation to scream, and her body tensed. However she kept herself open for him.
He clapped his hand against Cissy’s pussy. Cupping the palm meant he struck less surface area. He also made sure to avoid her clit, which would be more sensitive than the rest of her flesh. Diltan struck sharp enough to sting ... hopefully the kind of sting she enjoyed.
Her sudden inhalation was punctuated by a little cry of hurt. Cissy jerked, her ass thudding against the tabletop. Yet she kept her legs open for him.
A single tear crept from the corner of one eye. Diltan waited to hear if she would show gratitude or cry for him to stop.
In a breathless voice higher pitched than he’d heard from her before, Cissy said, “Thank you, Master.”
He smiled with delight. “You are welcome, Cecilia. Nine more to go.”
* * * *
Cissy’s body was a maelstrom of differing sensations. Her pussy throbbed from the first strike, heat rampaging through the flesh. It hurt even though she knew Diltan had held back. Yet the warmth of it enticed her, pulsing through her core in exciting waves.
Even more enthralling was offering herself for punishment. Cissy knew that she could speak one word and Diltan would stop. She could let go of her ankles, get up off the table, and walk away. Yet here she lay, on her back beneath a much stronger man, allowing his control to force her to submit to his discipline. She was there because he wanted her there.
Did Diltan have any idea the power owned over her? Did he realize that with one severe look, she wanted to crumble to his every whim? That with the imposing tone he adopted when they played in this manner, he robbed her of all strength?
If he had the least idea, he didn’t abuse it. Instead, he invited her to return to her rational mind, to weigh the consequences of what they did. Before the first strike, he had insisted she be sure she wanted this. After the first smack of his hand to her tender parts, he waited to be sure she wanted to continue.
Dramok Diltan was a snob, a jerk, and a schemer. He also cared. About her.
It made it so easy to sink into the role of his slave, his property with no choice but to do as she was told. Even giving herself over for chastisement, holding herself helpless for correction as he spanked her throbbing pussy.
His hand clapped down again, sending dull agony to reverberate through her. Cissy cried out, tears springing to her eyes and rolling free. In the wake of that pain came the glow of sublime heat once more. Cissy’s yelp resolved into a throaty moan as need tumbled through her belly.
I am his. I must please my Master. I must give everything of myself for his pleasure.
“Thank you, Master,” she whispered, adoring everything about him; his strength, his power, even his brutality in punishing her for such a minor transgression. He became her world.
Another smack descended on her waiting flesh. This time the pain was not unpleasant. It was still intense, but more enthralling than torment. She opened her legs wider as she said, “Thank you, Master.”
Another one. Cissy’s hips rose to greet it, and her crotch suffused with brightness at the harsh contact. She moaned her thanks throatily, grateful for every sweet throb.
Diltan’s next strike hit much lighter than the ones that had come before, but this time his fingertips landed on her clit. Pain returned in a rush, poignant and immediate. Cissy writhed and screamed with the excruciating blast. Tears poured from her eyes. Her pussy flexed, trying to orgasm. When no further stimulation happened the near climax backed away, leaving Cissy jerking on the tabletop.
“Thank you, Master! Thank you!” she screamed when she was able to form words again.
Diltan chuckled. “You beautiful creature,” she thought he said before he swatted her crotch again, this time not touching her clit.
Cissy spread her thighs as far as she could, wordlessly inviting him to slap her still-spasming clit. She did not dare ask him for it though. She was being punished. She was Diltan’s slave. It was not her place to ask him for anything.
She sobbed when he spanked beneath her clit again, denying her the awful glory of real hurt. The next one was the same. And the next. Her sex was on fire, feeling swollen and pulsing, but it was not the torment she wanted.
“Last one,” Diltan said.
At last, he swatted her sensitive nub again. Anguish filled Cissy’s gut as pain bolted through her. Heat seared and her body reached, straining for the dissolution that wanted to come with it. She shrieked as climax brushed up against her ... and retreated once more. Cissy was left sobbing her final ‘thank you’ as her legs tumbled limp from her fading grasp.
Diltan stripped off his shirt and lowered his pants to his ankles, displaying that heart-stopping body that matched his face. His cocks were livid, straining towards her as if they would tear themselves right off the Dramok’s groin in order to get at Cissy.
He grinned at her, the look both mocking and sinister. “I’m going to fuck this naughty slave now. I am going to fuck my Cecilia hard.”
Cissy felt a stab of terror as the man loomed over her like a sexual demon. Her body clamored for what he promised. “Thank you, Master,” tumbled from her lips.
Diltan grabbed her legs, draping them over his muscled forearms. He dragged her close, aiming those twin rams at her pussy and ass. It was only then that Cissy remembered she hadn’t been prepared anally. Was she still stretched enough from this morning?
The question was moot. Diltan let go of one leg to gather his cocks in his hand. He positioned them both to enter her sex.
Cissy gasped. She’d never been taken that way before. She wasn’t sure she could handle it, especially if Diltan was going to take her hard.
Yet for all his threats Diltan eased in carefully, teasing her open in small increments. Cissy groaned as she was stuffed full, the doubled girth rubbing against her interior walls. About halfway in, she felt a little strained to accept the two cocks. Fortunately, she and Diltan were both sopping wet, easing things. It didn’t ache until he was almost all the way in.
“Take it,” Diltan said, his gaze intent on her face. “Relax and take me. You want this. Your body will adjust.”
He was right. He paused every few seconds, giving Cissy a chance to absorb him. The ache remained mild enough that it fed into the excitement of the moment, enhancing rather than detracting from her desire. Pain was its own pleasure, she discovered. Pain delivered by a commanding and yet conscientious man, at any rate.
Diltan’s groin met Cissy’s. He smiled approval, making her warm all over. “Very good, slave. Very, very good.”
Then he pulled outward, dragging that thick heaviness through her sheath, finding all the sensitive places within. Electrified, Cissy’s whole body seized.
“That’s it,” Diltan said, his voice breathless. He stopped just before his smaller cock could lose its place inside her and shoved back in.
His strength grew with every stroke, thrusting harder and faster each time. The steady friction rubbing inside made it feel as if every hair on Cissy’s body stood straight up. Next to Diltan’s bunched shoulders, her toes curled tight. She shouted an accompaniment to every smack their meeting bodies made.
“Play with your clit,” Diltan snarled, fangs appearing behind his flatter teeth. “Make yourself come for me, girl.”
Cissy was on the brink already. Her hands flew to her crotch, fingers reaching. It only took a light, feathery brush.
She strained to deliver the orgasm, a huge billow of sensation that fought to escape her. It felt as if it would tear her apart in its violent attempt to rip loose. Cissy screamed as convulsions rumbled through her, each one stronger than the last.
Diltan pounded into her over and over, feeding the frenzy. Then his cocks jerked inside her, as if possessing their own separate lives. He came inside her, filling her with his seed, releasing into her, his temporary possession.
They yelled and shuddered against each other for what felt like an eternity, forcing pleasure from each other’s bodies until Cissy’s body went limp and Diltan sagged over her. They lay groaning for a while after that, their chests moving in tandem as they heaved for air.
Little by little, Cissy’s thoughts reassembled themselves. She blinked up at the far-off ceiling with its intricately lit patterns.
One thing was for certain. Whatever differences she and Diltan had, sexual compatibility would not be one of them.
The Dramok’s big body covered her like the world’s best blanket, pressing her into the hard surface of the table beneath her. Cissy couldn’t believe the table hadn’t collapsed from their combined weight.
“It’s a good thing you’ve got such sturdy furniture,” she muttered.
Diltan chuckled lazily in her ear. “It has to be to hold men the size of my clanmates.”
Cissy thought about that, of the three muscular men wallowing on this very table, their bodies entwined with each other. Her pussy gave a little twitch. Despite its sated state, it responded to the yummy vision.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” she grinned.
Diltan rose up on his elbows so he could look down at her. With a laugh, he delivered a sweet, soft kiss to her lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Diltan’s heart pounded as he prepared to wrap up his report to the ethics committee. He’d saved the damning part of Zarl’s records for last. Once he revealed them, nothing else would receive due attention.
Not that he claimed much attention from the eight-man committee right now anyway. All the councilmen who served on it sat at a raised table, settled in hover chairs. Small vids of history’s most important and heroic councilmen lined the walls. A vid floated over the long table, the documents Diltan had gone over from Zarl’s reign as Dramok Emperor. In the dimmed light, the report shimmered bright, allowing the members to peruse the enlarged document easily.
So far Diltan’s report had been boring and mundane. All but Maf and Councilman Terbal looked on the verge of falling asleep. Terbal made notes on his handheld, looking very much the conscientious man he tended to be. Quietly handsome though rather unremarkable in appearance, the younger man was often quick to challenge the Imperial Clan. However, he did so in a polite way. With his average height, build, and unassuming demeanor, Terbal often escaped notice from the others. Much like his mentor Maf, Terbal preferred to let his votes speak for his beliefs.
Maf, however, looked nowhere near inoffensive. With a rapt look on his face, his bent body leaned over his end of the table as he waited for Diltan to get to the admission of abduction. Maf reminded Diltan of the mountain hereso, an arachnid that could reach the size of a man’s thigh. Diltan could almost imagine Maf pouncing on a luckless reptilian dril, the hereso’s favored prey.
With evidence of Imperial wrongdoing in his grasp, Maf showed his true colors. While Diltan had known Maf didn’t approved of Earther Mataras, he would have never thought the man capable of wanting an actual witch hunt to protest their presence. It made him wonder what other secrets Maf had kept about himself.
Maf’s bigotry, however repugnant, didn’t matter. The time had come to reveal the secret that could divide the Empire. Diltan took a deep breath.
“Next item, computer.”
The letter from Zarl to its unknown recipient appeared on the free-floating vid. Maf straightened as much as his twisted body would allow. He licked his lips. Terbal also straightened, his eyes moving as he perused the contents of the letter.
Diltan kept his voice as matter-of-fact as possible. “Five years ago, Dramok Emperor Zarl sent this communication to an unknown recipient ordering breeding compatibility testing of an Earther Matara. As we are all aware, that Matara turned out to be Amelia Ryan, then residing on Plasius. This is the same Amelia Ryan who became Matara to Clan Rajhir. Dramok Rajhir at this time is a councilman of good standing.
“The letter goes on to say that in the event of a positive outcome of such compatibility testing, Zarl commands that all Earther females available to us to be brought to Kalquor for purposes of continuing Kalquorian bloodlines and our culture. Even if it means abducting them against their will.”
That brought gasps and exclamations. The committee was awake now, their eyes wide as they stared at the vid.
Maf stood. “There it is. At long last, we know now who is ultimately responsible for the destruction of Earth and the polluting of our two species’ genes.” He ignored the shouts of anger that came from Dramoks Gamas and Efo. The councilmen had each clanned two of the first Earther women brought to Kalquor.
When he could be heard again without raising his voice, Maf continued. “Not only did the emperors themselves order this, but Councilman Rajhir, a cousin to the Imperial Family, is implicated. He must have had his Imdiko Dr. Flencik test Amelia Ryan. After her breeding ability with our kind was confirmed, he clanned her, perhaps against her will.”
There were more cries from all the committee members. Diltan rose to his feet and signaled for silence. He was amazed that he got it.