Angel 6.0: Enslaved (Space Opera Romance): (Angel 6.0, Book 3) Page 3

  Soon enough I had him going good. He pulled away from me and reached underneath his couch for his drug, a bottle of female Cat pheromones. I spread my legs wide and guided his spray down to my wet pussy. I rose up my hips for him and he squirted me liberally, all over my inner thighs, ass and pussy.

  The last time I served him, he’d surprised me with the wondrous sensation of his awesome tongue. If I had no choice but to serve him, to let him rub his huge cock all over my body, I might as well get mine too. Trapped as his servant, in his world, he at least owed me a decent tongue fuck.

  He didn’t disappoint. The Captain dipped down between my legs and ran his wonderful, heavy tongue all up and down the crack of my ass. He swirled around and then slipped up between my pussy lips. After slurping for a few, my hips grinding on his face, he shoved all of that long, dexterous tongue inside me, right where I wanted him.

  I didn’t care he was probably tasting Cesar from the last time we’d made love. I didn’t care about anything in the world but my explosive orgasm gushing all over the Captain’s face. The Captain never complained when I wet him with my climaxes. Probably too high on Cat pheromones to notice.

  I humped his tongue as long as he was willing. He panted heavily, and his cock had grown rock hard a while ago. He slurped me one last time and stood. His impressive length was so hard it jutted straight out from his hips. I laid there with my legs spread, looking at a cock that I could never fuck, wondering what he planned now.

  He growled, his voice rough with arousal. “On your knees.”

  I obliged him. We’d done this many times, one of his favorites.

  He lined up his cock and pushed straight against my entry, as if he would actually put it inside me, wetting his fat head in my slippery pussy. I reached back and smacked the side of his meaty cock.

  “Stop trying to fuck me!”

  He ceased pushing on my entry and let his thick shaft slide past. The ridges of his hard cock thrummed against my clit as he stabbed forward, rubbing between my pussy lips. I clamped my legs tight around his girth. My inner thighs and pussy wrapped him tightly, a pretend pussy for him to fuck. He started thrusting in and out and I curved my ass and hips to meet him stroke for stroke.

  I rode his shaft, squeezing tight, moaning with the awesome friction. Moving in time, matching his thrusts, he sunk his claws into my hips and trapped me up against him. His hot warm balls squeezed up against my thighs and I floated on the ecstasy of my pain switch. I did not experience pain like the rest of humanity. Pain was my happy place.

  Another woman would be screaming in agony from the Captain’s claws tearing into my hips, Another woman would be debilitated by her injuries. Not me. I screamed in ecstasy and came so hard I squirted come all up and down his hard, grinding shaft. My come wetted us both, giving him the lubricant he needed. That’s when he hit his stride.

  High on pain and sex, I ground my sopping wet pussy on the hard ridges of his cock. He purred and growled as hot jets of his come sprayed the couch, my breasts, and even my neck and chin. Bastard sprayed me like a firehose. He yowled his pleasure and fell on top of me. His weight squashed me into the couch, sandwiching his cock beneath me. I rubbed myself off on his girth one last time as I lay pinned.

  God I needed a shower.

  When he finally lifted off me, I was soaking wet, come and blood everywhere. Though raw and sore, feeling bowlegged, I enjoyed a grim satisfaction from the carnal pleasure. There was no love between us, but the Captain gave as good as he got. Trapped in his alien world, at least I had this much.

  Love was overrated. If I drank enough liquor, and rode the Captain’s cock enough times, maybe I could find a way to forget the man I loved. Maybe I could forget the sick ache inside me, the hole in my chest only Cesar could fill.

  Chapter 4

  After the Captain helped me into the steam shower to wash up, we rested on his couch-lounger-bed. It was the only place to sleep in his cabin, and I’d long since grown accustomed to wrapping my arms around this big, furry asshole. After all the liquor and rough sex, I crashed hard.

  Sometime in our sleep cycle, I woke to a warm, hard cock trapped between my legs, rubbing back and forth. He rubbed us both off, a good wake up bang, and then I fell asleep again. When I woke up, the Captain’s claws gently traced the skin of my hips and ass. It always fascinated him how my body healed from his injuries within hours, and no scarring. D’Anton had made me perfect.

  The most perfect human ever created was enslaved to an alien Cat who had no better use than to rub his cock all over my body. Talk about wasted potential.

  Aboard the Gran ship, there was no day, no lights-out, no measure of time. Hours passed in sex games, swilling the Captain’s endless supply of liquor, and the occasional Cat nap. We traveled thousands of light years’ distance as I drank, fucked, drank and fucked some more. I tried as hard as I could to burn off my need for Cesar. No amount of liquor or pretend sex filled the void inside me. Drunk, high on pain and sex, riding the Captain’s cock, nothing worked to purge Cesar from my heart and soul. The more the Captain rubbed me off and tongue fucked me, the more I needed Cesar.

  Cesar had made love to me. Cesar had lavished hours and hours on me, my body, melding his soul to mine, whispering words I needed to hear so badly.

  The Captain did not make love. He used and abused me. He mauled me, tripped my pain switches and sprayed his creamy hot semen all over me. The Captain had no problem digging his claws in my shoulders, back, hips, thighs and ass. He marked me up, helped me shower off the mess, and then watched me heal, only to do it all over again. We made such a mess of his couch he called in his Warriors to replace it. The thing was covered with come and bloodstains.

  I don’t think the Warriors liked what we were doing. When they brought in the new couch, they stared at my drunken, naked body draped shamelessly across the Captain’s lap, his personal assistant fuck pet. I could feel the disdain coming off the Warriors when they watched the Captain’s hand idly massaging my ass as I tried to catch a nap before his libido rose again.

  “What are you looking at? You want some too? Need to spray your pussy juice all over me so you can get it up? Fucking eat me or go away.” They couldn’t understand my English, but they caught the tone of my taunts. Both of them dropped their ears and hissed at me, as if that meant something, as if I should care if I offended their Catty sensibilities.

  Not long ago I’d hacked through a pile of Warriors with their own weapon, their sacred battle gauntlet. I had little fear of them, and even less respect. The Captain watched them sneering at me, squeezed my ass once more to ensure he still owned me, and snickered as if I was the funniest thing ever. Bastard was forever high on his mating pheromone spray. He had become increasingly tolerant of my foul mouth.

  It wasn’t my fault their Captain was a raging addict, and my body had become his preferred method of dosage. I knew nothing of their society, their rules, the proprieties. I only knew that I had no clothes, and he wanted me that way, naked at his beck and call. He’d shredded my zipper suit. He let me use a furry blanket when he left the cabin to run errands around the ship. When I asked him for something to wear, he’d made ridiculous excuses, Angel looks better without clothes. He wanted to see me, all of me. Clothing only got in the way. I spent our entire trip across the galaxy naked, drunk, riding and sucking cock, showering, or sleeping in the Captain’s arms.

  A first class personal assistant.

  After the longest month of my life, we finally arrived at a monstrosity of a space colony. Hundreds of kilometers of floating constructs orbited a massive brown and red gas giant. The Captain explained this was Cleptus, a gas giant in one of the solar systems the Gran inhabited. Many scientists Earthside had theorized the Gran must come from a planet with Earth-like features, but it was all speculation.

  Trapped naked in his cabin, I was glued to the one port window. I watched community after community pass while millions of little space cruisers zipped here, there and everywhere, a
lmost like the cars I’d seen in Earthside holovids. We must have spent at least a day cruising past colonies to reach our destination, one of the largest orbital structures of the community. The thing had to be at least thirty kilometers tall, and twice that in width, a football the size of a moon.

  The Captain grabbed me to pull me off the window. I smacked his hands off my ass. “Leave me alone! I want to see where we are going!” He growl-chuckled, as if I was joking.

  His powerful claws seized my hips and pushed his huge erection up between my legs, rubbing pushing up into my pussy. After a few minutes of driving me insane with his incessant friction, I let him pry me away from the window to pin me down and rub my inner thighs raw. As soon as I finished washing his mess off my body, I was back in front of the window, watching our approach to this humongous space station.

  Once we landed inside the kilometer long landing bay, Captain Cronin held me down and banged me one last time for good measure. My hair still wet from the steam shower to clean off his mess, he tried to pull me out of the cabin naked.

  I jerked my hand out of his grip. “Fuck you prick! Give me some clothes!”

  I refused to accompany him for his meetings with the high muckety mucks. No way I’d let him drag me through Catdom in the buff. No fucking way. He looked like he was ready to turn on me for serious.

  “I want clothes. Humans wear clothes. I’m not your fuck toy, you heartless son-of-a-bitch. Give me something to wear!” His face morphed then to a pleasurable growl-snicker. I often felt like he was testing me, trying to see what I’d let him get away with.

  He spent a few minutes digging through one of his cabinets and pulled out a brown leather belted-skirt and a matching bikini top, the same kind of outfit he’d given me last time I was aboard his ship. I knew the bastard had clothing for me all along, but he wouldn’t let me have it until now. I assumed this must be what Gran females wore. It was very similar to his clothing.

  “Where is your female? The female who wore these clothes?”

  Like the last outfit he’d given me, the breast cups were too small, and the back strap was too large, but he helped me adjust the strap to fit so at least my nipples weren’t showing. Then he sprayed me with some kind of spiced perfume, which wasn’t bad, but definitely not a scent I would choose for myself.

  The Captain looked me up and down in my skimpy outfit. “She was not my mate, simply a concubine.”

  He spoke as if this concubine was meaningless to him. Not exactly encouraging considering my situation. His powerful arms encircled me as if somehow I was important to him, as if he actually cared about me. Despite my desire to be anywhere else other than here, trapped in the Captain’s cabin, I enjoyed the idea of being needed. But his need was stifling.

  The Captain squeezed my ass once, something he seemed to enjoy regularly. “Warriors of the Traders Guild rarely take a mate. It is difficult to serve the Guild and maintain the demands of a mate.”

  Gran females were demanding … interesting.

  Made sense as to why there were no other females aboard ship. “Do you not prefer a concubine of your own species? Gran females would serve you better than I. A Gran female would be more attractive…”

  Attraction wasn’t the right word. Addiction was more appropriate. I suspected that Gran females would not tolerate an addict who never let them leave his cabin for weeks at a time. The way he abused me so frequently, I felt like one of those robosex mannequins some of the men used on Nugene when they couldn’t catch a date. The Captain had me dressed up and scented like a Cat, but no matter what clothes he put me in, or what perfumes he sprayed on me, I would never be a Gran female.

  He spun me around in his arms to spear me with his domination stare. “You are a valuable female, Angel. I value our time together. I appreciate your special qualities. I enjoy pleasuring you, and you pleasure me well. Gran females are … complicated. A Gran concubine can be costly.”

  Aha. Why pay for a demanding Cat bitch when he could bend me over any time he wanted? I hardly complained about all the times he fucked me raw. I hardly complained how he mauled the shit out of me. I was the perfect grudge-fuck concubine who never showed a single marking from his abuses.

  I’d allowed him to set this standard between us. What a complete idiot. I had to find a way to undo this ridiculous mess I’d made with the Captain. He was spiraling deeper and deeper into his twisted need for me.

  “Come, Angel. You will meet the elders of the Trader’s Guild. This marks a new era between human and Gran. You have proven to be a most valuable female, more than I imagined.”

  Talk about making a girl nervous. I combed my fingers through my crazy black hair and prayed I didn’t look like a screaming banshee. The Captain didn’t have a mirror for grooming, so I hadn’t seen what I looked like for weeks. Sore and walking funny from our latest fuck session, I followed the Captain off the shuttle into a massive docking bay that held over a dozen Gran cruisers of various sizes. It was the biggest room I’d ever seen. The ceiling had to be at least a hundred meters high. This one bay could probably house an entire fleet of ships, and I knew there were at least three bays I’d seen on approach to the station.

  The station was big enough to house an entire world inside.

  We quickly made our way to an ornate corridor with three meter high ceilings. The Captain and his Warriors stood tall as we marched into the station in a kind of ceremonial procession. After several turns at wide open junctions that were easily thirty meters in diameter, almost like streets, we entered a corridor where scroll-work designs adorned the walls and floors. The work had to be custom art. I couldn’t see how that intricacy would come from prefab materials. The colors flowed together with such precision and beauty. Greens weaved with golds, tans and browns in a gorgeous swirling pattern. I was so enthralled by the walls, one of the Warriors bumped me from behind and growled. The Captain snatched my hand and pulled me along to keep pace. From the looks I caught regularly, I already knew most of the Captain’s Warriors did not like me. It seemed no matter where I went in this fucked up galaxy, my existence brought someone discomfort.

  The long hallway opened into another massive room with slopes of seating tiers up each side and several metallic disks high in the air – floating seat platforms. From the look of it, I guessed the floaters had the premium tickets to the event.

  Where the seating ended at the far side of the room, a fifty meter wide moat of black nothingness opened up. On the other side of the moat was an ornately decorated platform with couch-lounger-beds encircling a great round table. As soon as we emerged fully from the hallway the murmured growls and clicks of thousands of Cats drifted towards me. As we descended down the ramp walkway to the open air moat, I felt every Cat in the room watching us – me. I fought for control of my runaway adrenaline that hit so hard my hands shook. I was ready to bolt or brawl.

  Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.

  I focused on the Captain’s warm, strong hand engulfing mine. He squeezed my hand and I looked up into the face of my owner to find he had adopted a stoic manner. Usually he walked with pride in his ownership of me. Now he seemed detached. I doubted he was proud of the negative attention I inspired.

  No way I would ever be accepted into this society, not with this level of xenophobia. Obviously the Captain was one of the few Gran open-minded enough to deal with humans up close and personal.Tolerant was not a word I’d ever considered to describe the Captain, but I could see now that he was indeed a tolerant creature – by comparison to the rest of the Gran in the room.

  I tried not to notice the wicked glares of hostility and hissing noises coming from Cats a few feet on either side of me. Instead, I focused on the floating discs above us that seemed to edge my way, vying for a better look at me.

  I prayed this theater gathering wasn’t expressly for me … the new human freak on display.

  I felt like a steak, a few minutes before it was chopped up and grilled. These animals would sur
ely eat me alive if I misspoke or offended someone without realizing it. This was a huge mistake. I knew nothing of the procedures and proprieties here. I fought to control my breathing and keep my adrenaline to a manageable level.

  My body was amazingly agile and athletic, strong, quick, no problems in the take-action department. But I was not made to handle this kind of tension. The mere idea of speaking before a delegation of the Gran terrified me.

  When we arrived at the rim of the moat, the Warriors following us drifted off to either side to find seats. The Captain and I stood alone at the edge. One of the beautiful floating discs came up from somewhere in the dark abyss and parked like a ferry ready to take us across to the platform. The murmuring growl-clicks of the crowd jumped up a notch in volume as the Captain assisted me into the floating disk with his hands around my waist. He seated me at his side and slipped his arm casually around my shoulders. Clicks of disapproval from the peanut gallery gave me the distinct impression it wasn’t kosher for the Captain cozy up with such intimate familiarity.

  If they knew how many hours I’d spent riding his cock, I doubted they’d approve of that either. My suspicions about the Captain deepened. He was using me in a way his society deemed distasteful.

  Not surprising.

  From the floater we ascended to the platform on the other side. The high point of the platform had a great Cat roundtable – basically a huge wraparound couch thingy with a table in the center. As we approached, my empty stomach growled at the scent of yummy cinnamon-spiced liquor and other fizzy-looking drinks in tall flute glasses. I caught my first real look at a Gran female. As I suspected, she wore the same thing I did, more or less.

  Her clothing was more ornate, probably much more expensive, but still the basic bra and belted-skirt combo. She was older, had little ridges of white-grey hair around her face and flecks of white throughout her fur. These Gran were all older, some even fat. Elders. Fatcats. Decision-makers. Not so very different from humans of wealth and power.