Angel 6.0: Concubine (Space Opera Romance) Page 2

  “Angel ... what are you doing?”

  “I’m showing you why you need me. You need me here on the station, with you.” His warm shaft hardened in my cold hands as I stroked him. I loved seeing the dark skin of his engorged cock contrasted against my pale hands and body. Carver was my first and only lover, and I wanted no one else.

  “You know I care for you, Angel.”

  I jerked his pants down, dropped to my knees and sucked in his cock. He was silenced by his gasping intake of breath. He liked it when I used my tongue all the way up and down the length of him, and then swirled around the head of his cock. After teasing with my tongue, I swallowed him whole, all the way.

  I almost gagged the first time he insisted I swallow him. I’d since learned to suppress my reflexes to please him. As his warm, soft head pressed into the back of my throat and he groaned, his fingers curled into my hair and pulled me in tighter, pushing harder into my mouth.

  I’d been studying male anatomy lately and discovered a fascinating thing about the prostate gland. I showed him when I slid my index finger into his anus and curled back in to find the area I’d seen in diagrams. Carver bucked and tried to pull away, but my free hand clamped around his legs and I sucked his cock harder.

  He stilled, yet complained. “Angel, no. What … what are you doing to me?”

  I found it then and gently massaged the lump of his prostate. He bucked in my mouth and strange grunting noises came from him as his hands tightened on the back of my head.

  That was the spot.

  Now that I knew for certain where to find it, and how it affected him, I slid my finger out and pulled against his grip on the back of my head. After a moment he let me come up for air.

  “Shit, how did you…”

  Before he could finish, I leapt up into him, shoving him back against his desk. I wrapped my legs around his torso and reached down to guide his, hard, slippery erection into me. I was wet and ready, but I still gritted my teeth as he filled me. I never complained – the pain would quickly go away. As I seated myself atop his length, the burning pain turned to euphoria. Took about three seconds to flip my pain switch. The chemical buzz always made me wetter, even more ready for him.

  At one point I enjoyed the euphoria of pain so much that I’d started cutting myself with a utility razor. The white coats forced me to stop, with the threat of tying me down.

  In his desire to make me the perfect human being, D’Anton had altered my pain reflexes to allow me to function better in moments of distress. When he explained why I couldn’t cut myself anymore, he said this was a mistake he hadn’t anticipated, the strange euphoric high I got from pain. It didn’t matter that my skin healed in hours, it didn’t matter that I only lost a few drops of blood. D’Anton insisted that I was creating an addictive cycle of immediate gratification, and it could not continue.

  It still felt awesome when I cut myself, but now I made sure no one saw me doing it.

  Even when Carver fucked me that first time, the fleeting pain of my lost virginity had quickly sweetened to wondrous euphoria. Carver had no idea how much I enjoyed being hurt by his large cock.

  This time it would be extra special, for him.

  I ground down onto him, letting him split me in two and fill me to bursting. If D’Anton ever found out, he’d probably make us stop. The white coats never wanted me to enjoy anything for long. I had kept this secret for over a year. What Carver and I shared was no one else’s business. We had developed a clandestine routine, meeting where the station cameras didn’t reach. He’d make love to me long and hard, and when he finished I cleaned up the blood on my thighs and slipped off into the ducts. It was our special relationship, and no one needed to know. No one would ever understand how it was between us – we trusted each other.

  What we shared was special, beautiful and unique. Alone together, I experienced a side of him no one else knew. When we made love, his dark eyes stared into my soul as he rammed me hard, and painfully fast. I knew he loved me, though he’d never said the words. I loved him too, silently. But now I had to convince him to protect me, and ensure that I remained here, with him, together, always.

  Soon Carver’s hands trapped my hips and his pelvic thrusts hammered up into me. His murmurs started. “Oh god you’re so tight, so beautiful. Oh god, Angel!”

  I knew he was about to peak, so I grunted hard and seated all the way down, taking every last inch of him, and reached between his legs to find his anus once more. Completely impaled on him, I dug two fingers into the warm squeeze of his rectum and curled back into the round, soft nub of his prostate. I massaged him and ground my hips down, stroking his cock inside me as I stroked the male g-spot hoping to give him a profound experience that equaled the love I felt for him.

  He bucked against me again and started to protest. His fingers dug into my back and ass, painfully hard, scoring my flesh as he clawed at me from the intensity of the moment. The male physiology diagrams I’d memorized were very clear on this point. A prostate massage quickly led to an explosive orgasm. Carver jerked beneath me and yelled. His face buried in my breasts and hands clawed at my ass. The warmth of his squirting seed filled me inside and I knew I’d done it.

  I had given him the moment of a lifetime, an orgasm like no other, and he would realize how much he needed me, how I alone was capable of pleasing him. I was the only one who could do this for him. I was the only one who loved him so much I’d let him hurt me over and over again, just to please him.

  His hands squeezed my ass in a painfully hard grip, and I slowly withdrew my fingers from his anus. He convulsed around me, inside me, and groaning as his tears and sweat trickled down my breast.

  When he looked up, his wet, dilated eyes held the wonder that said so much more than words. He loved me. I had never known love until Carver seduced me. People talk of loving their parents, their siblings, their husbands. I had none of those things in my life, but I had Carver. He alone taught me the meaning of love.

  “This is why you need me, Carver.”

  He rested his head on my shoulder and spoke quietly near my ear as he fought to control his breathing. “What do you mean?”

  “There is nothing I won’t do to keep you, to make you happy, to please you. Nothing. I love you, Carver. And I know you love me, too. You must convince the Gran to leave me alone.”

  I pulled his head up to see his eyes. There was so much depth of communication in the eyes, and I hated speaking to someone who wasn’t looking at me. “You can do it. I have faith in you, Carver. I know you can find a way for us to be together, forever.”

  His eyes flashed with surprise, then the look I hoped for settled in, the look of love. He finally nodded. “I’ll find a way, Angel. I promise.”

  The male prostate gland was a mysterious and wonderful thing.

  * * * *

  Chapter 2

  “D’Anton, listen. You must wake up and listen.” I shook his shoulder and he mumbled in his sleep. “Dr. Pascal, wake up!”

  He sat up in bed and squinted at me. His gaze traveled up and down my half-dressed body and settled on the splat of blood at the lower hem of my shirt. His eyes flared with alarm. “What has happened?”

  “I’m okay. It’s not me. The Gran are here. There’s a problem. They’ve seen me.” His eyes sharpened, and his whip-like intellect focused on me, on what I hadn’t said yet. “When they saw me in the hub, they argued with Carver. They want to take me.”

  “Merde!” In an instant he was up out of bed and reaching for his lab coat. He never left his cabin without that coat.

  I pulled on his hand. “You have to help Carver fix it. He won’t admit it, but he’s scared. He fears angering the Gran.”

  “Imbecile! Why didn’t he send you to your cabin? How could he let them see you?”

  “They came early. They weren’t expected for three more days. You have to convince them. Carver barely speaks their language. He told them I’m no good. He said I don’t meet their specifications. Yo
u’re the Doctor. You could show them reports and data. You could prove that I am different. That I was never intended as a work drone laborer.”

  “Angel, you are so different, no one would believe the truth.” He shook his head. “Casting pearls among the swine. No amount of reports can convince these animals. They are traffickers of flesh, slave traders.” His face turned gravely serious. “You must get into the ducts and keep moving. Whatever you do, stay hidden until they leave. Do not come out of hiding, no matter what happens.”

  He turned away and opened a drawer at his desk. His hand emerged with a small plasma pistol. I’d rifled through his cabin enough times to know he had the weapon, but I’d never seen him carry it. He checked the setting and looked at me with determination. “I’ll never let them have you. Now go, run.”

  I ran.

  No sooner had I sealed myself into the ducts when Carver and several Gran warriors marched down the hallway for Doctor Pascal’s cabin. I held my breath and remained utterly still and silent as they walked past my ventilation grate. D’Anton stepped out to meet them with a hard edged look on his face. He had always been passionate about his work, about me. Though he complained, moaned and worried endlessly, he was not prone to fits of anger. I’d never seen him look so cold and furious.

  Carver spoke low in English, his gaze flickering back and forth between the warriors and Dr. Pascal. “Captain Cronin of the Gran Traders Guild has provided me with these lovely escorts until I meet his demands. He wants a sample of the Angelina stock.”

  D’Anton eyed the tall warriors carrying their staffs and battle gauntlets and cut into Carver with a jagged whisper. “Are you so selfish and stupid that you would give the hope of humanity’s future to these beasts? I help you run this slave trading operation for one reason – her. She is all that matters in this waystation to hell.”

  Carver laid his hand on D’Anton’s shoulder. “Doctor, I wasn’t suggesting that we hand her over. I didn’t know you’d already been briefed on the situation.” Carver looked over his shoulder and down the hallway towards the ventilation grate where I sat watching him. Though he couldn’t see me, I know he felt me hiding in silent support of his struggle to save me.

  He turned back to D’Anton. “I am asking for your help. Word came down from Nugene Corp Earthside. They don’t want to upset the delicate footing of our contract with the Gran. They are writing her off as a loss for tax deduction. They aren’t even aware of everything you’ve been doing here. The reports we submit on her are redacted. To them, Angel is simply a research expense on the budget, a failed investment. Now please keep a smile on your face and help me find a way to placate these creatures. We wouldn’t want our guests to think us inhospitable.”

  * * * *

  I followed them at a distance as Carver led them on a leisurely stroll throughout the station. They checked every room, every cabin, the incubation area, the common areas, the training grounds, everywhere. Level by level they inspected the entirety of the station. They were looking for me.

  I wondered how long they would look for me before they gave up. I could wait. I knew where to steal food and drinks. I knew the ducts and maintenance access tubes better than the techs who built this station.

  I could wait almost indefinitely.

  Captain Cronin was not a patient male. He growled orders into his bracelet-com and an hour later a new shuttle arrived, filled to capacity with thirty Gran warriors in full battle gear, and gauntlet blades.

  They were taking over the station.

  Carver, D’Anton, and all the white coats were sealed into the labs at threat of death from blazing gauntlet blades. The Gran gauntlet was a huge metal fist that lit up with an arc of white-hot energy that covered the entire knuckle like a brightly burning torch. It was rumored The Gran could cut through anything with those blades – even steel. Next, the kitchen staff, gardeners, housekeepers and maintenance techs were rounded up and locked in the dining room. Once they secured everyone, the Gran roamed the hallways and corridors uninterrupted as they tore the entire facility apart, room by room. They shredded mattresses. Seat cushions were tossed. Closets and storage bunkers were emptied.

  After a day they started looking into the station diagrams. They sent two of the smallest Cats crawling through the maintenance tunnels. For two days they searched for me. Every hour that passed, the Captain became more enraged. He hadn’t slept. He snapped orders in harsh growls and yowls. “See how they hide her away? See how she eludes us constantly? This is the best stock they’ve ever created. She is highly valued! Find her and bring her to me!”

  His ears twitched and his claws flexed with irritation. The Captain exuded ferocity at every turn, a very unhappy Cat.

  Then, when I thought they might finally give up, the Captain snapped. He stood up from his chair outside Carver’s office, downed the liquor in his cup, and hacked through the middle of a plastisteel table with the energized blade of his battle gauntlet. We’d all heard stories of how they used their blades in hand to hand combat, but seeing it happen was another thing. Growling in frustration, The Captain barely held his anger in check as he breathed in and out through his nose, scenting the air carefully.

  “She is here, watching us, mocking us.” His feline vertical pupils scanned the room, until he settled on the ventilation grate where I sat holding my breath. He growled at the warrior standing nearest to me. The warrior activated its white-hot blade and started cutting through the walls a few inches away from me.

  I sprinted down the ducts as fast I could run. I had become overconfident as I watched them night and day – I’d forgotten to bathe. The predatory fuckers had caught my scent.

  Again they sent one of the smaller warriors into the tunnels after me. I could hear him growling and huffing behind me as the claws on his toes scraped and scrambled. Minute by minute, he gained ground, ever closer on my heels. He was taller, lankier, with a longer stride. My chances of outrunning him were slim, but I knew this station like none other. This was my playground, my home, and I knew all the pitfalls of grav-spin.

  I switched from corridor to corridor, diving, sliding, leaping, jumping, always working my way up towards the central hub. They wanted to see me dance again.

  So let’s dance.

  * * * *

  Chapter 3

  I wasn’t being stealthy anymore. Running hard after two days with almost nothing to eat or drink took all my strength and energy, everything I had. I grunted and cursed as I fought the grav-spin to reach the place where I ruled, where I could dance with this furry fucker in the open instead of being chased through the rabbit holes of the station.

  His growls and scrapings drew ever closer. Cats were amazingly fast.

  Finally I reached the maintenance tunnel that connected to the hub. I put on a burst of speed and the grav-spin resistance lessened by the second. I dived and slammed through the grating to fly out into the forty meter wide, open air hub cylinder, breaking the bonds of grav-spin as I reached dead-center zero G.

  That’s when sharp claws latched onto my ankle.

  The slashing pain of his claws hit me hard, but in a few seconds the euphoria would be just as intense. I kicked out with my other leg and broke his grip. The plastisteel girders came up fast and I braced myself for the jarring impact on my hands as I shoved off sideways. The warrior sailed past me, clawing at my back as he yowled until his skull cracked on the plastisteel.

  He bounced off the girder and flew back out into zero G, dazed, shaking his head. I hit the catwalk below and used it as a spring board to launch straight for the warrior floating helpless in the center of the hub. He never even saw me coming up from below.

  He clawed at the air, his legs wide open. The gran wore only the slightest clothing, like a skirt of sorts. No underwear to cover or protect his fist-sized furry balls. The Gran had the same basic anatomy of humans, right down to the genitalia dangling between his legs.

  I hit him with all the strength and momentum of my body. My fist crushed
scrotum and ground into his pubic bone, mashing his most vulnerable parts. He yowled like a Cat being skinned alive. He puked a stream of gruel out into zero G and curled into a ball of whining agony. The contents of his stomach floated listlessly in the air as the warrior tried to protect his smashed testicles, his teeth gritted in pure torture.

  I deftly avoided the Cat puke and kept flowing upwards with my momentum, into the bottom of the other catwalk. Again I spring-boarded into a flip, right back down at the mewling warrior. When I tagged him feet first, I kicked as hard as my legs could push. I put everything I had into that blow, and sent the beastie spinning off into the low G sidewall of the hub cylinder.

  He slammed the wall in a yelp of pain and tumbled down as grav-spin took hold. His claws fought to grip the sides of the drop tube leading down to the ring levels, but he just couldn’t get a purchase. I heard the echoes of his high pitched yowl all the way down until the thud of his body hitting the outer ring frame cut the noise short. A hundred foot drop and the Cat didn’t have a maglock to break his fall.

  Bye bye kitty.

  A snapping command drew my attention to the catwalk below me where Captain Cronin and several other warriors held long metallic staffs pointed in my direction. I was coasting through the air slowly headed out of the center. I gradually let myself be pulled into the low G. Their staffs functioned like rifles as the Cats fired at me several times. No plasma discharges –they shot some kind of netting.

  I barely slid out the way of their nets as grav-spin took hold and I fell into the drop tube. No time to mess around on this one. I let myself fall hard, gaining speed, putting distance between us as fast as possible. At ten feet from the ring framing I activated my maglock against the wall and jerked into an agonizing swing into the side access corridor. I landed in the corridor in an ungraceful tumble and gritted my teeth as my shoulder ligaments snapped and popped with the strain. I counted down the seconds of burning agony until the euphoria flooded in.