These were the moments I lived for, these peaks of clarity and joy, the certainty that Jason would always be here for me, loving me, pleasing me. I prayed he’d never leave me. I needed him so much. On this ship filled with murderous, slave-trading Cats who treated me as flesh to be bought, sold and used, Jason was my anchor to sanity.
I once thought I loved a man, Carver Liddell, the Nugene Liaison to the Gran. I now understood that had been nothing more than a convenient affair, a secret sexual rendezvous on Nugene Station. Carver died as he betrayed me and showed his true worth, which had amounted to nothing. In my heart, the flitting memory of Carver was a blank sheet of paper compared to the intricate masterpiece of Jason.
Jason’s slow, deep, grinding thrusts pushed me over the edge and I came for my lover and moaned his name. I gripped his shoulders, convulsing, grinding up to meet him, trying to merge my flesh with his, entwine our souls together as one. His lips descended to my nipple, a lovely sensation in the midst of my climax.
Only one thing missing. “Bite me, Jason! Make it hurt!”
My hands fisted in his hair, I yanked his head down hard and shoved my breast into his teeth. I loved the sting, but it wasn’t enough. He looked up, his gaze questioning. “Are you sure?”
I grinned and nodded.
Jason saw the fire in my eyes and was brave enough to play with it. He bit me so hard he drew blood. My pain switch flipped and I soared into the heavens screaming in joy and ecstasy.
Sometime later I floated back down to the steel slab where my lover’s hard body was still heaving atop me. My maker, D’Anton, in his wisdom, had gifted me with enhancements he considered crucial to the advancement of the human race. I enjoyed aggressive, rapid healing, increased agility and strength, intense mental acuity, but the one thing D’Anton took away from me was pain.
My pain flipped a switch inside me – an explosion of sheer euphoria. The intent was to allow me to function when severely injured. I didn’t experience pain like other people. Pain was my happy place. D’Anton had explained this was a mistake, and I needed to be careful. I could be near death and not know it. I wouldn’t actually feel the extent of my injuries.
I feared admitting this to Jason. To open that discussion would lead to the truth of my birth. Plus, this fact had made many of the doctors on Nugene Station uncomfortable. They even tried to stop me from cutting myself.
But Captain Cronin knew my secret. He’d figured out I can heal from injuries within hours, and he seemed to grasp that I actually enjoyed it.
Jason shifted his weight inside me and lifted up to look in my eyes. Drunk on liquor, sex and pain, my vision blurred and then settled on his worried face.
“Look. Look what you made me do … I hurt you.”
“Shh … It’s okay.” I was giggling, happy as can be. “I’ll be fine. I like it. I love it!”
His face squished up in confusion and I ran my fingers down over the sharp lines of his jaw with all those delightfully prickly stubbles. “I wanted it, Jason. It’s okay.”
“But you’re bleeding.”
“Not for long.”
He harrumphed and slid off to the side of me. I turned to him and buried my face in his neck, loving the scent of our sex on his skin. “I love you, Jason. A little pain is nothing compared to how wonderful I feel when we’re together.”
Back on Nugene Station, I’d never had to explain my peculiar condition to anyone. The doctors and Carver knew what I was, and D’Anton constantly cautioned me about it. I’d never encountered anyone who didn’t already know how different I was from the rest of humanity. I suspected that these small differences might be a very big deal to anyone else. If what Jason said was true, Nugene Station was operating in secret, illegally. Which made me illegal, a product of a corrupt system.
I settled in to sleep in Jason’s strong arms, praying that the outside world would never discover my peculiarities, that I might never need to explain myself to the man I loved.
* * * *
Chapter 2
Jason’s fingers tickled my breasts, but his cock lay flaccid against my thigh. I woke to him studying my left breast carefully. He had a warm wet cloth he used to clean the blood away from where he’d bitten me.
“How the hell?”
I looked down at the clean, unmarred, white skin of my breast with my perky little brown nipple. No teeth marks, no cuts, not even a bruise. When I rubbed the nipple, it was still slightly sore, but that would be gone shortly.
“I told you I was fine, Jason.”
“But you were bleeding…”
“It’s okay, really.”
“But how?”
He was looking at me funny, and fear twisted in my gut. I couldn’t live with his rejection. Losing Jason would unmake me from the inside out. “It’s the Gran. They gave me some kind of nanomeds. You saw my ragged jumpsuit? They healed me.”
The lie fell from my lips so smoothly. Jason couldn’t speak the growl, click, snapping language of the Gran. He’d never get the truth from them. Really, not much was known about Gran technology apart from salvage work done on junked Gran warships. DC Fleet fought the Gran for over twenty years before the treaty put a stop to the war. Earthside had been negotiating to buy Gran equipment ever since. The Cats were not forthcoming.
Jason shivered. “Oh yuck. Who knows what those nanos are doing inside you.”
“I’m fine, Jason. Besides, doesn’t that stuff dissolve eventually?”
“Depends on the design. This is alien tech, Angel. There’s no telling.”
I shrugged. My lie had quickly become as complex as the truth. I snuggled back into his arms and nuzzled against his neck, kissing him lightly. Soon enough, he stopped worrying about anything but my lips, my hands, and my willing body.
* * * *
“Isn’t it creepy how they stare at us?” Jason looked back over his shoulder to see the worker drones watching us through the bars that separated our cell from theirs.
I rode Jason’s lap, grinding down onto him, trying to shove his cock inside me harder and deeper. I liked being on top, where I controlled everything. I looked up to find an entire cell full of men watching me bounce on Jason’s cock, grinding my pussy down onto him, hitting my favorite spot.
The human clones the Gran used for back-breaking labor were engineered with strong bodies and stunted mental development. The treaty with the Gran entitled them to buy specially designed human worker drones. According to Jason, this was the only reason the Gran had stopped their full-scale invasion of Earth and the Colonies, because the DC secretly agreed to give the Gran what they wanted, docile human slaves.
I’d assumed the worker drones’ libido, like their intelligence, was stunted. But several of the drones were reaching for their crotch, rubbing the lump in their pants. The sight of them staring and touching themselves almost ruined my orgasm. I pulled Jason’s head down to my breast and he latched on with his teeth. Not hard enough to hit my pain switch, but I didn’t really need him for that. I bit my arm and tasted my blood. Pain shoved me over the edge into a back-clawing, screaming wet climax. I came so hard I soaked us both. Hitting my switch in the middle of deep, hard sex was so awesome I often squirted.
As I bounced through Jason’s grunting finish, his hot seed filling me with warmth, the drones started grunting. One drone dropped his pants to grab ahold of his erection. In a couple of minutes the other drones in the cell began doing the same. Ten full-grown idiots stared at us, groaning and jerking off.
That was creepy.
I’d never seen the drones have any interest in sex or masturbation. Mostly they stood around waiting for their next meal, not doing much of anything.
Breathing hard and still quivering, I whispered to Jason. “I’ll ask the Captain if we can get a curtain, or move to where they can’t see us.”
“I don’t even want to know what you’ll have to do to get a favor like that out of him.” Jason laid his forehead on my shoulder.
* * * *
<
br /> I woke to the growling of an impatient Captain standing at the door to my cell. Jason’s arms were still wrapped around me. I hadn’t bothered to put my clothes on. It almost seemed pointless. No matter where I went on this ship, I was always taking them off again. I slipped out of Jason’s grasp, stretched and yawned.
When I finally opened my eyes, I had ten worker drones staring at my stretched naked body, feeling themselves. The one looked like he was about to drop his pants again. I had to put a stop to this shit, quick.
The Captain clicked the button on his bracelet and unlocked my cell. He gestured with his claws for me to come out. It was never a good thing to make him wait, so I snatched my bra and skirt off the floor and kissed Jason goodbye before he woke up fully.
I didn’t feel comfortable strutting around the hallways naked, but they were just Cats. The only one who seemed interested in my body was the Captain. I guessed he was the most perverse of the bunch, but lately another thought had come to mind. Addiction.
The Captain demonstrated many times over that when he used the female Cat mating pheromone spray on me, it had a powerful effect on him. I was beginning to think of it as a drug addiction. My visits to his cabin had increased in frequency, and he’d become more liberal in his use of the spray. It was all I could do to jerk him off fast enough, to avoid him trying to shove that cock inside me.
Several Warriors glared at me in passing. One looked me up and down as if he wished he had a naked concubine to abuse at whim. The Captain had never offered to share me with his Warriors, and I sure as hell wasn’t suggesting it. The way his Warriors sneered my way, I got a distinct impression of xenophobia … either that or impropriety. Though no one bothered us when I served the Captain in his cabin, I suspected his Warriors knew exactly what we were doing in there, and they did not approve of it.
I finished snapping the back clasp on my bra as we reached the door to his cabin – just in time to take it off again. He impatiently clicked the sequence on his wristband to unlock the door and pushed me inside.
I had no way to categorize our relationship. The Captain wasn’t mean or sadistic. He wasn’t evil per se, but his ways were not human. Though he took good care of me, he expected me to perform consistently. As long as I maintained my usefulness, and the lie I might someday conceive a child, he treated me well and left Jason and I alone to do our thing.
I guess he trusted me, and I trusted that we’d reached a good working arrangement.
He locked the door behind us and without being asked, I stripped off the clothes I shouldn’t have bothered to wear. This was our routine, more or less. The Captain once again brought out a box full of Angel treats from a high cabinet. He always fed me the same way, little squares of yummy spiced cake, and strong, throat-scorching liquor.
I promised myself I’d lay off the liquor, but it sure smelled tempting. I downed four of the cakes and pointed at the little spout and sink set high into the wall. “Water?”
He looked at me with his domination stare. I was supposed to drop my eyes in acknowledgment of his supreme Catness, but my instinct was to stare at him until he blinked first. I fought my combative nature and dropped my head.
“You do not enjoy the Snarl-click?” His growls held an accusing tone.
I could hardly pronounce the name of the liquor he was always pouring down my throat. To me it sounded like Snarl-click. I clicked once in answer, the Gran indication of no.
“Do not lie, Angel.” When he said my name, it came out as Angril. Yet I appreciated that I was more than just a thing. To have a name is to be a person.
“I like drink, yes. Drink is too strong.” My capacity for speaking Gran had gradually improved, but some growl-click snaps were difficult for the human tongue to form. The Captain was nothing if not perceptive. He understood me most of the time even though I couldn’t always articulate what I meant.
“Drink the Snarl-click now.” He pinched at my nipple with his claws, mostly in play, just enough pain to let me know he would hurt me soon. “The drink makes you ready for pleasures. I like you better when you drink. Have water later.” Another domination stare.
As I suspected, the drink was more than just liquor. He was plying me with an alcoholic aphrodisiac. I had noticed the trend since the first day he brought me to his cabin and got me drunk. I was wet and horny twenty-four seven on that stuff.
I had no real choice in the matter. I submitted and drank from the glass he’d already filled for me. It burned all the way down, but I’d grown accustomed to the flavor. I actually liked it, the way it made me feel. That’s what worried me. I didn’t want to get so drunk and horny I went too far with this concubine business.
I helped him remove his armor and belted-skirt, speeding up the process. I wanted to be finished with him and back in Jason’s arms as quickly as possible. I’d rather enjoy the benefits of the liquor with Jason.
Cronin poured me another full glass, and I downed it like a good little concubine.
Finally he was nude and towering over me. Two and a half meters of lean Cat muscle covered in caramel and black striped fur. His hefty third leg dangled hypnotically in front of me, tempting me to stroke that elephant trunk. The Captain preferred I take the initiative to please him.
I hefted his weight with both my hands and massaged the impressive length of his smooth tan-colored cock. Soon enough his length grew and hardened in my grip – damn near half a meter when fully hard. He was so tall compared to me, I easily lifted his cock to my mouth and tasted him without bending over or kneeling.
The Captain was very clean. I knew, because I washed him regularly. I suspected he bathed with me expressly for my benefit, so that his scent wouldn’t offend me. He was strangely considerate.
Licking and slurping the head of his massive cock, stroking down to massage his fist-sized balls, I knew in my heart this was a sick, guilty pleasure. For some reason I could not explain, I enjoyed my time with the Captain – mostly. I liked the weight of his hefty cock in my hands, the powerful muscles of his body, the warmth of his furry chest and thighs. The Gran were warmer than humans, and playing with him felt good – but wrong at the same time.
I couldn’t get past the sense that we were not supposed to do this. Yet we both liked it. He didn’t have to force me to pleasure him. I didn’t consider it a burden to suck the large head of his cock until he was ready to play pretend. I wondered if I’d feel the same without the liquor.
His growls turned to that more urgent sound, and as I expected, he pulled away from me and reached for the pheromone spray. Usually, he’d squirt it on my arm or shoulder, and then sniff on my skin while we finished the job of getting him off. This time he sprayed it right on my pussy.
I stepped away from him, unsure what that meant, where he was going with this…
He growl-chuckled and pulled me down onto his couch-bed lounger. With the powerful grip of his claws on my arm, all I could do was go with the flow, and lie on my back. He made me very nervous when he spread my legs. Captain Cronin kneeled between my open legs at his end of the couch with a cock that would never, ever fit inside me, and yet he looked at my pussy like he intended to try.
I started to close my legs but his claws on my knees stopped me.
Before I knew what was happening he bent down and licked me from ass to clit with a gloriously dextrous tongue the length of my hand. Warm, wet explosive joy rolled over me as he lapped away at my pussy. I fought my warring instincts to grab his head and hump his face or get up and run. I didn’t know what to do other than lie still and enjoy being fucked by his marvelous tongue.
It was raspy, thick, almost hard, but still wet and soft and … it fit … oh my, it fit. He dipped his tongue inside me and I moaned. Over and over he flicked his tongue up and down, in then out, swirling, dipping, licking. I matched his rhythm and rode his tongue, wishing he’d done this for me weeks ago. I came so hard I gushed onto his huge pink tongue and clawed at the sides of the couch to keep from grabbing his head.
/>
Then he sat up and moved over the top of me, missionary style. Oh shit. His tree trunk cock nuzzled up against my entry and pushed, rubbing hard. He wet himself in my come and slipped around the insides of my thighs. Then he ground in and pushed. It wouldn’t go. Instead that fat cock slid up, over and across my clit, a rough, wet, heavenly glide. I almost came again.
He stroked his monster up and down my sopping wet pussy, splitting my lips and rubbing my clit. I reached for him and stroked his length. He pushed, I pushed. He pulled, I pulled. In no time at all I was humping the underside of his cock while massaging him hard and fast with my hands.
This was our game of pretend, and the Captain was very creative in his games. We’d never played the game this way, but I liked it. A lot. Pushing, pulling, riding the thick, hard slide of his cock, I came again and again.
I could feel the tension building in him as his monster grew and hardened even more. Suddenly his claws dug into my shoulders and he thrust harder and faster. It was all I could do to keep stroking him as I came hard and the pain shoved me onto a new level of euphoric joy. The hot jet of his come sprayed my chest and ruined the moment.
Captain Cronin loved shooting his junk on me like a creamy shower.
With both of us coming hard, I screamed and clawed and called him names, though I enjoyed it. Writhing and squirming beneath him, he convulsed and sprayed my stomach and thighs.
He swayed above me, dazed, his cock still twitching squirts of fluid. His eyes looked at me strangely. I saw it then, his black vertical pupils had dilated larger. He was high on that Cat pheromone. Spraying my body with his drug, he had become addicted to me as the agent of delivery.
Slowly he removed his red-tipped claws from my bleeding shoulders and sat back on his heels. This was how it always ended, the Captain in a daze, and me covered in blood and come.