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Chapter XII – Guests
She
cried, back in the room she shared with Mistress. Even in her deepest sorrow she was too well
trained to sprawl on the bed, though in her youth that had been a preferred
place for sobbing: face buried in a pillow, soaking it with tears, waiting for daddy to knock lightly on the door and hold her, Everything
will be all right, Nyssie, don’t cry…. There were no gentle pats on the back,
though. Even the desk chair was off
limits – No pets on the furniture! – so Nysia simply fell to the floor and pulled her knees to her
chest, rocking and whimpering.
It had
all gone wrong. The knight in shining
armor had sneered when she offered herself, had thrust her aside – literally –
in preference of her dearest friend. That’s
not at all how the vids worked; the strapping young
men always fought off the evil villain (although the idea of Riley fighting off
Mistress seemed somewhat laughable, she had to admit). There should have been a daring, hair-raising
escape at least, through tunnels and laser beams and all sorts of deadly
things; not “Stop PMSing.” The stars never said something like that!
Everything’s
gone wrong, somehow, she thought with self pity.
Mistress
returned humming softly to herself. The
metal doors whispered open to admit her, mindlessly, robotically obedient to the
woman’s fiendish will just like Nysia now was. Her heels clicked a sexy staccato against the
deck as she entered.
For the
entire afternoon Nysia had done everything she could
to hide evidence of her foray. Her
clothes were cleaned and pressed once more, ready for a drill or inspection,
creases that could cut like diamond. The
floor was wiped, polished, no smudges of shuddering sorrow, smeared blood or
trace of tears. Nysia
herself was clean, her eyes no longer quite puffy or reddened, a touch of make
up, eye liner, heavy lipstick to distract the eye, just in case. She was composed, kneeling,
ready to bend over and kiss each of Mistresses leather-clad toes; but mid-kiss
she knew it was useless.
Glancing
upwards, Nysia saw Mistress staring down with a
strange look to her green eyes. Too
intent; normally Mistress barely paused to allow Nysia to demean herself, or just brushed by
dismissively. This was too focused, too
reading. She knows! But how…?
She
didn’t look angry, however. Usually,
when she was mad, that was a terribly bad thing; the night of the fire, the
Major had giggled like a schoolgirl. But
now…she looked almost sad, too. For a
moment, Nysia wanted to know what tore at the Major’s
heart, but the moment passed too quickly to ask. Mistress threw a plain box into the corner
where Nysia slept.
“Fetch, girl.” Taking the cue, Nysia scrambled after it on all fours like a puppy, her
sadness gone in an instant; as always, when she served Mistress the rest of
existence seemed to vanish. She took the
edge of the lid in her teeth – it was fastened to the box – and trotted back to
Mistress, acting the full part of the trained canine. She’d learned, through many painful lessons, that
it was best to put every effort into any task for Mistress.
Jillian’s
lips twitched in a depressed hint of a smile, then the
Major leaned down and patted her head softly.
“Good pup. I thought you might
enjoy that role…I’ll have to keep you in it more often. But for tonight, we have other plans – open
your box and get dressed; we have company coming over tonight.”
Nysia’s eyes widened as she remembered the last time they’d
been in company: for a second she shuddered with the erotic memory of pinning
down Jones while her mate stripped and used the marine. And a box…she wasn’t sure if that was
promising or ominous, then realized having to even think about it made it
fairly ominous. She slid her nail along
the edge of the lid, tore through the tape and lifted the lid free.
It was a
mask of black patent leather; shiny, almost plastic to the touch, it would
cover the upper half of her face with only narrow slits for eyes. It was edged in flourishes and glimmered with
seduction; Nysia felt herself grow wet at once. She lifted the piece reverently, holding her
breath in amazement, then winced suddenly as something
sharp poked her finger.
She
turned the mask over and her eyes widened even further, and she grew even
wetter, although this time it was with a sense of dread. The outer edge of the mask was lined with
tiny pins, just long enough to pierce skin and all pointed inwards. Once cinched down, this mask would never
slide off.
“Mistress…am I…to be punished?
Very badly, I mean…I know I’m always…I mean….”
“Yeah;
you’re gonna be punished pretty bad. And at the same time no, this isn’t a
punishment at all.” Jillian shrugged,
hesitant or simply uninterested in explaining.
“You’ll get what you need. But
don’t worry; if you’re good, tomorrow you’ll get what you want.” As Nysia stumbled
over the cryptic statement, Mistress took the mask from her slave’s hand and deliberately
positioned it on Nysia’s face, then pressed firmly
against her skin. Nysia
did her best to hold still, but couldn’t prevent wincing and whimpering as her
eyes felt rimmed with fire.
The band
was locked quickly – another thumbprint lock – and then Mistress held up a
small mirror. Nysia
stared in shock at the beauty that was reflected. With her eyes in shadow and her brightly painted
lips so lewdly emphasized she looked like a seductress; No, she corrected
herself, I look like a prized whore. The
thin rivulets of blood and tears flowing down her cheeks looked vulnerable and
alluring, and made her want to hurt more – it was too beautiful to resist. “Thank you, Mistress,” she breathed, and
realized only after she spoke how much she meant it.
“You’re
welcome, darling, but that’s only the beginning of the night. Now get ready; this will be a big night for
you.”
Oh
yes! She remembered Mistresses command
and bent over to her drawer to remove her uniform, which suddenly, again, felt
like a wonderful and powerful thing, but her hands were slapped away. “You’re dressed enough, slave; anything else
would just get soiled. In fact…you need
a bit less down here.” One hand lifted Nysia’s chin, pinning her bare back against the cold metal
wall, holding her helpless while the other traced a finger up her thighs and
brushed against her metal plate. It
dropped away, and Nysia’s bare cunt felt suddenly
cold and exposed. “Now,” continued
Jillian, “Go piss and freshen up. I want
this clean before the boys mess it up tonight.”
Nysia was frozen in shock as realization dawned: a big
night, a special gift…her chastity plate removed. Men are coming…to fuck me. Dread filled her, and her sex dripped down
her bare thighs.
By the
time the intercom chimed to announce the arrival of their mysterious guests, Nysia had bathed herself thoroughly outside and in, careful
not to damage the mask. Jillian checked
her slave’s work, announced it was satisfactory as she licked her lips clean,
and had waited in the sole chair with a glass of whisky. Nysia had nothing
to do but stand in her corner, shifting from toe to toe in angst, knowing
better than to reach up and wipe away the tiny rivulets of blood that traced
their way with itching slowness down her cheeks. It felt like hours, but really could not have
been more than half of one before the door slid aside and men (men! Not just one or two, but half a dozen at
least…) were walking through the door.
They
were tall and trim, with rippling muscles and tans with no lines. No doubt their features were handsome too,
all the slaves were beautiful, but they were covered with leather hoods. No eye holes or red tears like her own – she
would have licked them away, had that been the case – just solid masks that
covered the top half of their faces and buckled securely to thick collars.
Nysia fell to her knees without thinking – it was how she’d
greeted Mistress every day for…months…and seemed natural. Besides, her mind and eyes were filled with
the silken hardness and she leaned forward, filling her mouth too. Worries and sadness melted away, and all that
was left was sex.
The
slave she pleasured grunted in satisfaction, filling her mouth with his seed at
a murmur of command from Mistress. Nysia devoured it hungrily and whimpered when the softening
tool was withdrawn, but Mistress led another to her and she turned upon him
instead. The rest of the men followed
the sounds of hedonism – they knew what they were there for, after all – and
Mistress guided them with a touch here and there until Nysia
was surrounded by cock. She moved from
one to another, delighting in each man’s different taste and feel, the shapes
and textures of each member, they way they twitched as she ran her tongue
around them.
Only
after she’d sampled every one did Mistress lean forward to whisper in her ear,
too quietly for the men to hear over their own moaning.
“These six
are special, darling, a bit of a gift…you’ve seemed so homesick lately I
brought some of home to you.” Nysia looked up in confusion, raising a thin brow as she
took a blond giant into her throat. “All
of these slaves were taken from DiamondStar, when I
claimed you. They’re your friends, or
enemies,” Jillian giggled light heartedly.
“Hell, maybe even your family.
You’ll never know, and neither will they, so enjoy getting fucked.”
Mistress
stood up, ignoring her slave’s bewildered expression and shocked
stillness. “Enough bein’ nice, slaves.
The whore in front of you is a virgin; yer all
here to fuck her. And I swear to god,”
she added in a sultry whisper, “if her cunt ain’t
black and blue from the pounding tomorrow morning I’ll fry you all til yer ears bleed.”
Nysia’s eyes widened in fear, but the men acted
instantly. She was thrown to the ground,
her head resounding off the deck with a hollow thud that stunned her. By the time she’d regained her senses she was
impaled – she’d never even felt the thrust that took her last remnant of
virginity, but now the huge tool felt like a pipe prying her apart. She screamed with the pain of it, and the
pleasure, but another slave followed the sound and her mouth was full
again.
They
took turns after that; one nameless, faceless Adonis between her thighs at a
time while the others held her wrists and ankles. They used her throat until it was ragged and
her jaw was too sore to suck them, and then they continued anyways, perhaps
just to shut up her screams.
And
scream she did, even with a dick – or two – filling her mouth. They followed Mistresses instructions
eagerly, slamming her hard and fast, pulling her legs wide to drive deeper and
quicker. Her screams mixed with moans of
pleasure, however, just as her tears mixed with blood and semen to stream down
her face and neck. Each push drove the
men in her mouth deeper into her throat, and drove her towards another orgasm –
she lost track of how many she was forced to endure.
After a
while – at least one full rotation of the men – Mistress pulled one from her
face and sat astride her mouth herself, lowering her
trimmed cunt to grind it against Nysia’s spattered
lips. Nysia
found the strength to respond, licking Jillian deeply and murmuring her thanks
over and over for the gift.
The
major came quickly – She must be enjoying this quite a bit, too, Nysia thought happily – and her juices mixed with those
coating her face. As she stood, Jillian
looked down mischievously and slipped a finger into her own sex, masturbating
as she stood over her girl.
“Oh
boys, you’ve made my little fucktoy all dirty…lick
her clean, filth.”
Nysia grinned, and then she was squirming beneath tongues
licking her everywhere. They roamed
across her face, darting quickly to lap up loads of cum and blood and
Mistresses wetness. She was covered; it
was splattered in her hair and the crease of her ass. She was covered in it, coated with fuck and
passion and use. Men’s mouths worked
across her breasts, lingering on the sensitive studded nipples, biting and
sucking; Nysia wondered when a slave had come on her
chest and how she hadn’t noticed, but now she looked down to admire how the
oily whiteness coated her. Out of sight
a mouth worked between her thighs, eagerly sucking out what had been so
brutally forced into her; even so, she could feel it dripping down her thighs
and ass until her hips were lifted and a tongue began its work there, too,
running across her sticky globes and dodging hesitantly against her rosebud.
“Oh god,”
Nysia screamed, arching her back as she shook with
orgasm after orgasm, thrilled by the overwhelming sensuousness of the
moment. The perverted bathing continued
until no trace remained of the orgy, just glistening, freckled
cream skin being pleasured by a half dozen mouths. Finally, realizing she was clean, the men
returned to their work soiling her again; a cock was between her thighs once
more and she didn’t even bother to look who it was, although she was fairly
certain she recognized at least two of the men as former classmates.
This
time, however, she remained more firmly in control; when the hesitant tongue at
her bottom made to retreat she held him in place and ground her ass against him
until he forced himself deeply into her, and after a while she told him, in her
best impersonation of Mistresses tone of command, to shove his cock in her ass til she bled. She
meant it, too, and he did as she told him, and screamed out how tight she was,
how wonderful to fuck. She purred like a
kitten beneath the abuse – Shows you, Riley! – and when he’d spent himself
within her she ordered another man into position; then, out of sheer playful
perversion, Nysia commanded the slave she’d
recognized as Gerald Rimms to lick clean the cock
she’d just had in her bottom. She just
wanted to see one man do that to another, and stared in fascination as the
blond eagerly set to work. By the time
he’d made his fellow hard again Nysia was too
maddened with passion to think, and she leaned over, still impaled in both her
other holes, to share the tool with Gerald, sucking and tasting until he
erupted again with a copious orgasm. She
shared that with her colleague, both swallowing part and tasting the mess from
each others’ lips.
Throughout
the orgy Nysia wondered how much her blindfolded
companions guessed about her identity.
Certainly Gerald knew who she belonged to…or had he been led away early
that evening…she couldn’t remember. And
of course, they had no particular reason to believe it was her.
For her
part, Nysia was only sure of two identities, and
those were boys she would have eagerly taken back home as well. The other four left her guessing, however,
and she was unsettled by the Major’s hint at incest: DiamondStar
was a small gene pool, and the odds of one out of six men being her relative
were very real. And besides, would
Mistress have brought it up at all, except to let her know it was true? Unless, of course, she was
simply playing one of her cruel games.
She didn’t have a brother, just a younger sister; and none of these were
her father. She had cousins, however, of
the right age; and one man could definitely have been her uncle Eli. It was all so confusing, though; she kept
looking, but it was hard to see past dicks and hardened abs, and after a while
– after they’d all used her a couple times at least – she decided those parts
were all that mattered, tonight at least.
If she were taking her uncle’s seed in her mouth, so what; it was
pleasurable. And, she realized, although
she no longer wanted to know who’d used her so viciously in her last moments on
the station, part of her delighted perversely in the twisted possibility it was
her own father.
Eventually
she was too exhausted to demand more, although they kept taking it even when
she just lay spent and unmoving. With a
chuckle, however, Mistress dragged Nysia to her chain
and locked her up for the night. She
leaned over, almost motherly, and tenderly kissed her slave good night.
“I know
there are things I can’t give ya, but hopefully…at
least, this, I can.” Satin lips brushed against hers, and withdrew. “Sleep, love; it’s my turn. You’ll fuck them all again before morning.”
Jillian
walked back to her cot, taking hold of a member in each of her hands and
dragging the men with her. She lay down
on her back with her legs spread wantonly, and the slaves were lining up to
take her in turns. Nysia
watched silently from the corner, idly playing with herself as Jillian was
pleasured by slave after slave, brutally shocking any that weren’t sufficiently
hard when their turn came with a long electrical prod. By the time Jillian was on her fourth lover Nysia’s body was surrendering to her fatigue, drifting in
and out of sleep. She was barely able to
see her Mistress take each of the men once, and marvel at their endurance –
Perhaps they’ve been augmented, too? – before she
slept completely.
She
awoke in the darkness to hands fumbling at her blindly, feeling at her legs and
thighs. Nysia
spread them obediently and reached up to find the man’s member, which began to
harden under her touch. He moaned,
quietly, but the cot creaked slightly and she knew it had been enough to get at
least one other person’s interest. She batted
her eyelids sleepily and winced with the pain; she still wore her mask, and the
tiny pins around the edge sat imbedded in her skin. Despite the pain, she pulled the cock to her
lips, stroking it lightly with her tongue.
It tasted of cum – no doubt that of several men – and of Mistresses
sex. She slurped it eagerly,
feeling her own wetness begin to flow, and thanked the heavens Mistress had
never bothered replacing her chastity plate.
She
stood against the wall and let the man take her there, quickly and
passionately, with muted grunts and moans as they tried to avoid waking anyone
else, but also to entice those already awake.
When she came, just before the slave allowed himself
to follow, Nysia surprised herself by moaning her
Mistresses name.
But even
after she’d licked her wetness from him he stood in front of her, flaccid and
shifting from foot to foot with nervousness.
She continued kneeling, looking up into the darkness, trying to guess at
his intention when a sudden stream of liquid dashed against her cheek. She recoiled with a gasp, and the flow stopped.
“The
fuck?” she whispered harshly.
“I’m
sorry,” he murmured with a tone of remorse, “the other Mistress told us to use
you as our toilet tonight…and I really…I mean, I’d hold it, if I could….” Nysia
shrugged. Somehow, its being an order
from Mistress was different, acceptable – with those words it seemed like the
natural thing to do.
“It’s fine,” she assured him, “I don’t mind. Just piss, right?” She opened her mouth around his flaccid
penis, tilting her head back to make a bowl of her mouth. The man didn’t respond to her question. He released a warm, steady flow of urine into
Nysia’s mouth, forcing her to swallow quickly to
avoid spilling. When he was done he just
flicked his member a couple times, as he would at any urinal, although the motion
spattered drops into this one’s brown eyes.
The
cycle was repeated through the night; she would be awakened by a tentative
shake and a quick coupling, sometimes in her mouth, others in her sex or
bottom. She’d lick them clean
afterwards, then serve as their toilet in the
darkness. Twice she grabbed hold of the
men by their balls as they finished, as she’d seen Mistress do, and she pulled
them down and returned the favor, although the men clearly weren’t trained and
sputtered and moaned. Another time it
was her Mistress, and Nysia whispered thanks as she
worked the major’s sex clean of last night’s couplings. The petite woman simply muttered sleepily,
pissed, and stumbled back to bed, where she woke at least two of the men; Nysia listened to them take her for the next hour.
Mistress
commanded the boys to perform again in the morning. At first, Nysia
didn’t even realize what was happening; barely awake, she was lifted by her
wrists and ankles and spread across the bed, where she lay next to Jillian. She struggled for a moment as hardness forced
its way into the soreness between her legs, which hadn’t had time to moisten,
but she was held down as she struggled and her confused protests were ignored. Her body took over, however, and she thrust
back against the man forcing his way into her even before she blinked away
blurriness and realized it was Gerald within her, and she tried to believe that
didn’t mean she’d happily screw anyone who felt like using her. By then she was slick – Already? Am I really such a slut now? – and he pounded her fast and hard.
To her
side, Mistress began to gasp and moan in a quick rhythm. She, too, was being mounted, a huge member
disappearing into her small frame. My
word – it must be hitting her lungs! How
can she take it, let alone enjoy it so?
As if
hearing her slave’s thoughts, Mistress turned her head to stare into Nysia’s eyes as her own widened with sudden ecstasy. She came hard, her back arching tightly and
her hand reaching out to squeeze her slave’s. Afterwards, she leaned over to
exchange a deep, probing kiss as her lover was replaced by another – apparently
he had spent himself at the same time.
They
continued to hold hands and share kisses as the men took turns, one after
another, thrusting deeply between their legs.
Nysia was fucked by each slave in turn; she
looked each one over carefully as they entered her previously virgin sex,
trying to guess who the last, unknown men were.
As
pleasurable as it was, it was also uncomfortable. The tiny barbs on the mask were still
embedded in her skin, and her movements caused the wounds to hurt even more
than last night. Besides, the previous
evening had involved a lot of pressure and friction in new places, and her sex hurt!
From her mistress’ expression, the major was feeling the same way. Eventually, both of their cunts and asses
were too abused to continue and Mistress herded the naked, masked men into the
hallway with insults and threats. Nysia had no idea how they’d find their way back to their
own compartments without sight, but imagined that was half the fun; the six men
would have a very interesting morning, that was for sure.
Breakfast
was delivered shortly after; Nysia didn’t see who had
performed her normal task, instead just lying exhausted on the bed. Jillian, when she returned to bed, laughed
girlishly at the sight and flopped onto her tummy, overturning her oatmeal and
strawberries onto Nysia’s bare navel.
The food
was hot; not quite enough to blister her skin, but it brought Nysia awake quite brutally, and left her gasping and crying
as her Mistress leaned over and licked the mess off her skin. By the time it was gone the brunette was
squirming in pleasure, the burns forgotten, and she moaned and begged as her
owner moved lower, sucking the fluids from between her legs. Ah, men are very nice, but women hurt so
terribly much less.
By the
afternoon, the holiday – for indeed, it seemed to have been some sort of
indulgence – was over. Mistress shoved
her off the bed with a boot, and firmly put her back into her place as a slave,
although it was done with a conspiratorial smile. The dreaded plate was back in its place, and
the mask was torn off with a laughing flick of the Major’s wrist: “Oh stop cryin’, little baby, with your nano
it’ll be all healed in a couple hours.”
Still hurt like all heck, though.
They
showered, and spent time exercising, and showered again after; Mistress was
fond of cleanliness, after all, and the warm water felt delicious on sore
bits. Jillian read most of the afternoon
– some history about the start of the war, to which she routinely snorted
derisively. Nysia
cleaned the room – spunk is no longer such great fun once it’s dried onto
everything, and weren’t those boys even aiming when they took their ease last
night? Most of the clothing and bed
sheets involved in the orgy – Nysia blushed at the
thought, then felt silly for having done so – were beyond her means to clean;
they were placed in a laundry bag with the major’s name and a large barcode
just outside the door.
All in
all, the day became such routine that it quickly came to feel unexceptional,
although Nysia grinned foolishly every time a dull
ache reminded her what she’d been up to all last night. Well, I certainly seem to have survived the
loss of my virginity, and I don’t feel particularly different. Rather over rated as a life event, I think,
although the sex was quite delightful!
It had
been a good day; but in the back of her mind, an ember of fury still glowed
with the memory of Lisa pleasuring her boyfriend. As she attended to her mindless tasks, she
considered how to obtain her revenge.
To be
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