Authors: Cynthia Sax
Darius grazed his fingertips over her ass and she quivered,
the contact sublime. “I had to beat you.” His voice lowered. “It was expected.”
He gently skimmed her abused skin, reviving the sweet burn.
Sabria moaned softly and bent over to give him better access
to her body. “It made me hot.” She gripped the cool metal chair as he explored
her ass, palming her cheeks, sliding his long fingers along her crevice,
circling her puckered hole.
“Feel how wet I am, Darius.” She widened her stance and he
slipped one hand between her thighs, locating the source of her need. He
silently stroked her, his fingers gliding over her pussy lips, drawing more
moisture from her core.
“That’s how ready I am for you. How much I need you.” She
arched her back, presenting her ass to him. He pushed a thumb into her asshole,
prying her apart, the delicious stretching of her clenched channel making her
wiggle. “Yes, that’s it.” She panted, needing him deeper. “Fuck my ass with
your fingers. Prepare me for that big cock of yours.”
Darius stilled, one of his thumbs in her ass, the fingertips
of his other hand pressed against the folds of her pussy. “
Balazoids
don’t fuck…find release in asses.” He removed his thumb.
“Fine. Don’t fuck my ass.” Sabria stifled a scream,
aggravated by his numerous rules, impatient with his lack of movement. “Take my
pussy instead. That’s allowable, isn’t it?”
“I’m a
Dreck
. None of this is allowable,” Darius
admitted, everything he’d ever known cast into turmoil, his need for her and
her alone conflicting with his conditioning.
This need is unnatural. She’s one breeder of many.
He
caressed Sabria’s hot pussy, unable to stop touching her, her skin delectably
soft and inviting. Balazoids
don’t touch their breeders. They don’t care.
He inhaled deeply, her scent delicious, her musk filling his nostrils.
“I require release.” Darius ignored her pink, puckered
asshole and concentrated on her pussy, plunging his fingers deeper inside her,
relishing how she clenched down on him. “Release will allow me to regain
focus.”
“Oh, yes,” she moaned, the sound hardening his cock even
more. “Find release in me, Darius. Fuck me hard and fast and fill me with your
cum.”
Darius gritted his teeth, Sabria’s instructions stripping
away another layer of his control. “Breeders sit in the chair,” he recited,
striving to regain his authority over her and his unnatural passions. “It’s the
Balazoid
way.”
“We’ll fuck in the chair next time.” She pushed back on him,
taking his fingers farther inside her tight entrance. “You have me as your
breeder. Fuck me against the wall, on the floor or in the shower. My pussy is
yours whenever, wherever you want it.”
“You should be silent, female.” He pulled his fingers from
her pussy, unfastened his pants and peeled the leather off his moist skin,
perturbed that he needed her so badly.
“Is that a command?” She glanced over her shoulder, her
beautiful face covered with his dried blood, Darius’ primitive marking of her a
source of tremendous satisfaction.
He didn’t answer her question, not wishing to stem her
stream of words, having spent too much of his life in silence.
Darius stroked his shaft, pulling violently hard on his
cock, punishing his body for its betrayal and preparing himself for a quick
release. Sabria rubbed her pussy as vigorously with her slender fingers, her
scent filling the room, her skin glistening with moisture.
“Guide that big, thick cock into me.” She panted, her chest
heaving, those beautiful breasts he wouldn’t allow himself to touch rising and
falling. “Before I come without you.”
“Come?” Darius prodded at her entrance with his cock head.
“Find release,” she clarified. He pushed into her and
grimaced, her pussy feeling too good.
Fuck. She’s tight.
Her juices
oozed around his shaft, dripping between his balls.
“That’s it.” Sabria cooed encouragement as his cock wedged
deeper and deeper inside her, his broader tip squeezed by her erotic embrace.
“Hold on to my hips.” Darius obeyed her instructions, clasping her hips, her
curves yielding under his palms, the forbidden touch exciting him. “Use them as
leverage.”
“Too slow,” Darius growled. He thrust forward, slamming his
cock into her up to his base, and Sabria screamed.
“One,” Darius counted, grinding his teeth, her pussy hot and
wet and tight, gripping him tighter than any simulator breeder’s pussy ever
had. He rubbed his thumbs into her soft skin, pressing his hips against the
curve of her reddened ass, their bodies fitting together perfectly.
“Give me some shallow pumps and no counting.” Sabria’s face
showed signs of strain, her mouth pulled flat. “This is for me. They aren’t part
of your three thrusts.”
For her.
Darius rocked into her body, moderating his
rough passions, mindful of how fine and delicate her bones were. Her grip on
his cock eased and he thrust harder, deeper.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Sabria cried out, her pleasure noises
adding to his enjoyment, an enjoyment he shouldn’t be feeling. She pushed back
on him as Darius drove forward, smacking their bodies together, the satisfying
sound escalating his desires.
“Ride me, Darius. Ride me hard.” She undulated under him,
her moisture coating his cock and her scent engulfing Darius, the combination
crazing him. He slammed into her again and again, desperate to please her.
“Touch me.” Her voice rose. “Cover my breasts with your big,
strong hands.”
Ignoring decades of conditioning, Darius leaned over his
little female and hooked an arm around her torso, gripping her soft breasts.
“My breeder.” He squeezed her curves, her hard nipples an enticing contrast to
the supple flesh surrounding them.
“Ohhh…” she moaned. Her hair rippled around her shoulders,
the long tendrils as black as open space, and her skin glowed, golden and warm
and alive. Entranced, Darius rubbed his cheek against hers as they rutted,
basking in her heat, her passion open and uninhibited.
“Darius.” Her erotic noises increased and her pussy walls
tightened around his shaft. “Count, damn it. I’m coming.”
Release.
Darius pulled out to his tip and plowed into
her, his balls slapping against her ass, his forceful drive swaying her body.
“Two,” she cried out, counting for him, her mouth open, her
eyes closed. “Harder! Deeper!”
“Three.” Darius thrust into her pussy with all of his
strength, burying his cock inside her. “Release,” he roared. She clenched down
on his shaft with her pussy muscles and he broke, coming hard, with a violence
that surprised him, an intensity verging on pain. Sabria bucked, rounding her
spine, trying to dislodge him, and he clung to her, riding her, subduing her,
claiming her.
“My breeder.” He bit her shoulder, putting his mark upon
her, a primitive act no
Balazoid
would indulge in. She trembled, the
tremors in her pussy wringing him dry, as he rested, waiting for his heartbeat
to slow, for the emotions inside him to dissipate, for his desperate need for
Sabria to leave him.
Instead, his unnatural yearnings for her increased, the urge
to touch Sabria’s beautiful face, to kiss her full lips, to murmur words no
Balazoid
should ever utter, ravishing his control.
Fuck.
Darius glanced up at the white ceiling,
searching his mind for answers, for a solution that would return him to the
life he knew, a life acceptable to his culture.
He reluctantly stepped away from Sabria, experiencing a
tinge of regret as his cock slipped out of her warmth, his shaft remaining
semi-hard. “Finding release your way didn’t fix me,” he grimly concluded, his
affliction more serious than he’d first thought.
“Oh.” Sabria turned and met his gaze. They stared at each
other, Darius willing her to understand, to not make him say the words.
“You’re my breeder,” he reminded her.
I warned her what
that meant.
“I
am
your breeder,” Sabria confirmed. She gazed at
the metal chair and back at him. Fear flickered in her unguarded face. “Then
we’ll try your way, the
Balazoid
way.” She gave him a brave smile, no
joy in her brown eyes. “Tell me what to do.”
“You don’t
do
anything.” Darius winced, his
irrational guilt harshening the words.
She’s a breeder, a replaceable
breeder.
“Sit in the chair, female, and don’t speak. Release is found in
silence.”
“You’re such a woman-hating asshole,” Sabria muttered as she
climbed onto the raised chair and Darius grinned, finding reassurance in her
cursing.
She has a strong will. She’ll survive this.
Sabria flinched as she sat down on the metal slab, the
machine dwarfing her body. She placed her hands on the armrests and curled her
fingers into fists, looking appallingly small and delicate and helpless.
Darius grabbed her tiny ankles and set her feet on the
stirrups, spreading her wide, her body open to him. She was black hair, golden
skin and pink pussy, her folds wet and creamy with his previous release, and
his cock sprang to full hardness, need building within him.
“Restrain breeder,” he ordered.
Sabria jumped as the bands encircled her ankles, wrists, and
breasts. “Darius?” She struggled against the restraints, twisting her body as
she tried to free herself. “These are too tight. I can’t breathe.”
“If they were too tight, you wouldn’t be able to talk,”
Darius pointed out dryly. She narrowed her eyes at him, scrunching up her nose
adorably. “Relax and don’t fight this. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Relax? You’re not the one in this torture chair, you
sadistic shit eater.” Metallic prongs pulled her pussy lips open, exposing her
entrance, and a sheet of cleansing waves cascaded down her body, removing the
blood from her skin. “Let me go, you—”
A muzzle fitted over her face. Sabria thrashed her head, her
brown eyes sparking fire, no sound coming from her moving mouth.
“Accept your destiny,” Darius advised.
This is natural.
He pushed away the guilt.
This is right.
He stroked his cock,
concentrating on his own arousal, blocking the anger shaking Sabria’s
restrained body.
Even with her confined and muzzled, with half of Sabria’s
body concealed by the machine, Darius wanted her, his desire escalating with
each pump of his hand. He breathed in her musky scent and a dab of pre-cum
formed on his tip.
“Three thrusts are all I need.” Darius positioned himself
between her spread legs, setting his palms on the chair’s hand rests.
Why am
I talking to her? She’s a breeder, a replaceable breeder.
He looked over
Sabria’s right shoulder at the blank wall and drove into her.
“One.” Darius groaned, digging his fingertips into the
metal, her pussy juices coating his shaft, oozing over his balls. He withdrew
slowly, staring at the wall, ignoring the female servicing him, centering his
thoughts as all
Balazoids
were taught to do.
“Two.” He drove deeper, using Sabria as he would use his
simulator breeder, brutally, savagely.
This will fix me.
He pulled back,
sliding his cock head along her narrow pussy walls. She squeezed him as if to
reassure him, a
Balazoid
assassin.
“Three.” Darius rammed into her pussy as hard as he could
and he swallowed his roar of satisfaction, finding release within Sabria as a
Balazoid
should, coldly, methodically, without the joy or bliss of their earlier
sessions.
“Fuck.”
I miss that bliss.
Darius staggered backward,
fastening his pants. “I’m still broken.” He met Sabria’s gaze and sucked in his
breath, the betrayal in her eyes slicing through him, the pain sharp.
“I have to do this. For a
Dreck
to survive, he must
become the perfect
Balazoid
.” Darius swept his hands over his cursed
hair. “Any breaking of the rules, any sign of weakness, gives the council an
excuse to dispose of us. I will
not
be disposed of, Sabria. Do you understand?”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding, lines of doubt
etched between her dark eyebrows, the unnerving silence accentuating his
loneliness.
I am alone. I’ll always be alone. Even if I become the
perfect
Balazoid
, I’ll remain a
Dreck
, unworthy of a breeder.
Darius scowled, no longer content with a long solitary life, the best future a
Dreck
could hope for.
“Cleanse breeder,” he barked. Sabria jerked as a nozzle
entered her pussy, sucking his cum and her juices before it coated her with
lubricant, preparing her for the next session.
“We’ll try again later.” Needing time and space to rethink
his plans, Darius pivoted on his heels and exited the room, leaving Sabria
strapped to the machine.
Chapter Four
The doors slid open and Sabria looked up, relieved to see
someone, anyone, even him. Darius stood before her, his muscled form clad in
tight black leather, his face grim and foreboding. He eyed her as though
considering what action to take next.
“Release me from this damn chair, Darius,” Sabria yelled,
tired of staring at a blank wall, waiting for him to come to his senses, her
resolution to focus on him and his problem evaporating seven unsatisfying fucks
ago.
Darius didn’t respond, Sabria’s words silenced by the muzzle
she wore. He perused her slowly, her naked body open and on display. His gaze
fixed on her pussy, his eyes flared with lust, and Sabria groaned, knowing her
fate.
“I’ll be quick,” Darius mumbled, dropping his gaze. He
unfastened his pants, revealing pale skin and his thick, hard cock.
“I don’t want quick,” she shrieked, frustrated by her
inability to communicate. “I want release too, you selfish asshole.”
“Don’t make that face, female. I warned you how it would
be.” Darius positioned his cock at her entrance, her pussy lips pried apart by
the machine’s prongs. “On a larger ship, you’d be expected to service hundreds
of males every day. I saved you from that fate.” He placed his palms on the
breeding chair.
Sabria met his gaze and saw guilt in his crimson eyes. “Why
are you doing this, Darius?” she asked, knowing he couldn’t hear her, yet
needing to ask the question.
“Forgive me, Sabria,” he whispered, his deep voice barely
audible.
He thrust into her, filling her completely, their only
connection being his cock in her pussy. “One.” There was no passion in the
word.
As Darius withdrew slowly, she squeezed him with her pussy
muscles, fighting to keep him inside her. His hands dropped and his fingers
entwined with hers, his small capitulation a major victory for Sabria.
He misses touching me.
She smiled at Darius.
He’ll
release me soon.
“Two.” Darius drove forward, rocking the breeding machine,
and Sabria gasped, desire building low in her body. She strained against her
restraints, yearning to wrap her legs around him, to hold him tight to her.
“This is the
Balazoid
way.” He shuddered as he pulled
out. “I’m a
Balazoid
.”
“No, you’re Darius.” She squirmed, the bands of metal
digging into her chest. “You’re not like all of those other woman-hating
assholes. You’re better than this.”
“Three,” he roared, thrusting forward, ramming his cock deep
inside her. Hot cum gushed into her pussy and she screamed with sexual
frustration, clutching his hands, her grip punishing.
Darius vibrated against her, lingering moments longer than
he had during his previous releases. “Thank you.” He looked away from her as he
stepped back. “Cleanse breeder.”
“Shit, no!” She jerked as the cold nozzle snaked up her
pussy, the suction torturous. “Let me go, Darius.” She slammed her head back on
the chair, shaking the machine.
Darius calmly fastened his pants, a frown on his face. “I
remain broken. We’ll try again.” He turned.
“I get to decide if we try again, not you,” Sabria mumbled
against the muzzle, glaring at Darius’ retreating back. “I’m the one stuck in
this torture machine.” The doors slid closed behind him. “With a cold nozzle
rammed up my pussy, sucking me dry, and my breasts flattened painfully against
my body.
“And I’ve decided we won’t try again.” Sabria folded her
hands and slipped her wrists out of the restraints. “I’m done with waiting for
you to come to your senses. I’m taking care of my own damn self.” She yanked
the muzzle off her face. Red lights flashed. “Yes, warning, warning. We
wouldn’t want the breeder to talk, you sadistic monsters.”
She plucked at the bands around her aching breasts. They
didn’t move, secured solidly to her body.
“No.” Her anger boiled over. Sabria wrenched a bar from the
frame. “Let. Me. Go.” She beat the machine, metal ringing against metal. Pieces
rained down onto the tiled floor, the destruction satisfying.
“Fuck you, machine.” Sabria pummeled the leg restraints and
they collapsed, freeing her feet. She flexed her ankles, her skin tingling with
the increase in blood flow.
“Cleanse this.” She ripped the prongs from her pussy and
pulled the nozzle, detaching the complex cleaning mechanism. Part of her, the
engineering part, admired the efficient design. A bigger part of her, the
woman, hated the machine with a fiery passion.
“Yes.” Sabria groaned as she closed her thighs, her muscles
sore from maintaining the extreme position. “I’m a woman, a real woman, not a
breeder and not some freakishly flexible sex worker.” She kicked a support
pillar and the machine tilted to the right, shifting her weight.
“Shit.” She winced, her torso pressed against the bands, the
metal cutting into her sensitive skin, the pain acute. Her arms ached, her body
exhausted from days spent strapped to the machine.
“No.” She summoned up the last dredges of energy and struck
the chair blindly, frantic to free herself before the entire structure
collapsed, flattening her. “No. No. No.” She walloped the metal.
She screamed as the seat fell back, taking her with it. The
machine beeped, the red lights flashing faster and faster, the combination of
noise and light maddening.
“You can’t be designed for this action.” Sabria lifted her
legs and folded her body, her feet by her head. “You bastard machine.” She
rocked back and forth, sharp shards of agony scratching along her torso.
A crack rang in the otherwise silent room, followed by
another and another. The bands fell from her body. Sabria rolled away from the
machine. A heavy crossbar slammed down on the headrest, denting the metal.
“Shit.” She panted, her chest heaving, burning, her
throbbing breasts striped with blood.
“What have you done, female?” Darius bellowed. He stood in
the doorway, filling the space, his muscled, fully clothed form sexy and fit
and perfect. “You
will
fix this.”
“Yes,” she whispered, emotionally and physically drained,
unable to fight him. “Darius.” The room spun around her, the white walls,
silver chair, and his black body armor streaming together.
“Sabria.” His dark form blurred, and in an instant, he was
beside her, kneeling, his crimson eyes warm with an emotion resembling concern.
“You’re hurt.” He cradled her head in his large hands, his
embrace gentle and his voice raw.
“Now we’re both damaged.” Sabria forced a smile, her cheeks
aching with the effort. “We’re the same, Darius.” She skimmed her fingertips
over his pale cheek, his skin surprisingly warm.
“We’re not the same.” He swung her into his arms, lifting
her easily. “I would never foolishly hurt myself this way.” Darius walked with
her, his gait smooth and silent.
“You weren’t trapped in that damn machine.” Sabria rested
her cheek against his chest, listening to the reassuringly strong beat of his
heart. “You don’t need to restrain me. I’ll stay still.”
Darius’ lips flattened and she rushed to persuade him. “I
will and I’ll help you become the perfect
Balazoid
. You can call me
female and be a woman-hating asshole and I won’t say a word. I’ll do anything
you want as long as you don’t put me in that chair again.”
Darius remained silent, his face dark.
He’s angry.
Sabria sighed, reluctant to apologize for breaking his torturous chair.
I’m
not sorry. I’ll break that damn thing beyond capability of repair if he
restrains me again.
Not that he cares what I think…or feel.
She blinked
back tears and stared up at the ceiling as Darius maneuvered through the
brightly lit corridors. Ceiling-mounted weapons tracked their movements and she
focused on the automated defenses, her knowledge of machines far greater than
her knowledge of angry
Balazoid
assassins.
“Clever.” She pointed to one. “Did you design those?”
“Yes.” Darius scowled. “The floor-cleaner bots are armed
also. You would have been dead within three strides of that room.”
“Oh.” She gazed at him with new respect. “Did you design the
breeding chair?”
“No.” Doors slid open and they entered a large chamber. “It
came with the ship.
Drecks
don’t need breeding machines because we spend
our lives alone.” Darius set her down on a massive bed.
“Hmmm…” Sabria stretched out, the black covers soft against
her naked skin. His sleeping chambers were as plainly decorated as the breeding
chair room, the walls a stark black, the space dominated by the bed. “This
feels good, Darius. Lie down beside me.” She patted the fabric.
“Not now.” He opened a wall compartment and extracted a
small container. “Your wounds require tending, female.” He opened the container
and dipped his fingers into the clear gel.
Female.
She closed her eyes, bracing for the pain.
For
one sweet moment, I was Sabria.
“Is that how Captain Grok’s breeders died?
Trying to escape that damn chair?”
“No.” Darius leaned over her, his body heat comforting. She flinched
as he touched the wound above her right breast. “Before today, I’d never heard
of a breeder trying to escape the chair.” He coated her skin, the salve
immediately numbing the pain. “You’re the first.”
“That doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened before.” She grinned,
a burst of euphoria rushing over her as the salve soaked into her skin. “Most
people have never heard of a prisoner escaping
Gehenna 5
, yet my brother
did exactly that.” Darius’ fingers skimmed her nipples and she shivered with
bliss. “Darius?” Her limbs twitched with unrestrained energy.
“Yes?” He frowned, his unhappiness pulling at her
heartstrings.
“You don’t have to be alone, you know.” She touched his
jutted chin. “When I searched through the
Drecks
in the
Balazoid
system, looking for you, I noticed many of
Drecks
assigned to deep-space
exploration were reported dead.”
“Deep-space exploration is dangerous.” His breath wafted on
her skin as he slathered the salve over her breasts, rubbing the gel into her
skin.
“Perhaps.” Sabria played with his fine white hair, petting
the short tendrils and tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “Or perhaps they
found a place where they’re accepted, where
Drecks
are equals and there
are no wars or killing.” She smiled dreamily. “They have families, breeders they
love and protect and offspring of their own, and they’re happy, so happy the
Balazoids
don’t want any other
Drecks
to know about them.”
“You talk too much, female,” Darius growled. His gaze lifted
and met hers, his eyes gleaming, his lips a tongue-length away from her nipple.
“I’m sorry.” Sabria stilled, holding her breath in
anticipation as he caressed her numbed curves, cupping and squeezing her
breasts, his hands ivory against her naturally golden skin. “It’s the salve. I
feel so jittery, high-strung, as though—”
He surged up her body, his leather-covered chest sliding
against her breasts, and he covered her moving lips with his, silencing her
semi-incoherent sharing.
I missed this, the kissing, the touching.
Sabria
opened to him and Darius pushed into her, wielding his tongue as though it was
a weapon, forcing her head back, his mouth tasting of herbs and unstoppable
desire.
Sabria rubbed his arms, the leather smooth, his biceps
rippling under her fingertips, his body muscle and strength. She explored the
breadth of his shoulders, the flat of his back, the dip along his spine, and he
purred against her lips, a bone-deep expression of animalistic contentment.
She raised her knees, cradling his narrow hips between her
naked thighs, pressing her mons against him, rubbing, grinding, yearning to
feel the slide of his skin over hers.
“Touch me, Sabria.” He dragged his lips over her jaw,
nibbling on her. “As only you can. Hold me.” He shuddered, his hard form
vibrating against her curves. “Make me believe. Make me feel.”
Sabria plucked at the leather, desperate to feel all of him,
his jacket fitting snugly, a second skin over his torso. “Remove your clothes,
Darius. Let me touch you.”
He stilled, meeting her gaze, his eyes darkening to dark
crimson. “I shouldn’t.
Balazoids
—
”
She pressed her index finger against his lips, stemming his
flow of excuses. “Today, you’re not a
Dreck
and you’re not a
Balazoid
.
You’re Darius and you do what you want, making your own rules.”
He hesitated, his face an unreadable blankness, his thoughts
concealed from her. “This once, for you, I’ll be Darius.” He rocked back,
kneeling between her legs, and he ripped the leather from his body, revealing
pale skin stretched over defined muscle, flat nipples, and a groin devoid of
hair, his cock thick and long and erect, ready to please her.
Sabria’s mouth dried and she licked her lips, yearning to
taste him, all of him. He tracked the movement with gleaming eyes. “Beautiful,”
she whispered, his body a work of art, a sculpture carved out of white rock.
Red blazed across his cheekbones, rare color in his ghostly
face. “Vulnerable.” He circled her wrist easily with his long fingers and
placed her palm on his abs, his skin warm. “A dagger slicing across here would
end my life, freeing you.”
“I’ll never be free of you.” She sat upright. “And I’ll
never allow you to be harmed.” She fastened her lips over his pecs, tasting
salt and minerals and aroused male. “I’ll protect you, Darius.”
His lips twitched. “
You’ll
protect
me
.” He
pushed her down, covering her body with his, scanning her countenance with his
intense gaze, looking for what, she didn’t know. “Females don’t protect.”
“This female does.” She cupped his angular face. “When
you’re with me, you’re safe. I’ll be your sanctuary.”