Tales of the Quiet Kitty 1: Under the Cat’s Paw Camille Anthony
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Chapter One
The door opened and the sensor controlled walkway winked out beneath her weighted feet. Almost sorry to reach her destination -- she so rarely had a chance to see daylight -- Willa plodded heavily into the interview room, her small ankles locked into a pair of slaver’s cuffs. Head down, neck bowed, she flicked her eyes about in quick, furtive forays, taking in the room’s sparse furnishings: a six foot long cushioned slab and a straight-backed, armless chair. Noting the absence of tweezers, whips, electronic probes and other sadistic devices with a thankful sigh and a renewed sense of hope, she dared to sneak a quick glance at the room’s other occupant, determined to somehow influence him to take her with him. A harsh, swift breath lifted her full breasts and set her covering plumes to fluttering. Before her stood a grey-skinned bi-pedal Being lounging at ease, his long slender hands resting on the upper horizontal bar of a tall-backed chair. He faced her, his nude body -- tall, slim and muscular --
displaying a total lack of self-consciousness. A thick mop of unruly platinum hair waved in the brush of an unseen -- and unfelt -- breeze, falling over his forehead to obscure his sightless silver eyes. His mouth hung open, allowing a nineteen-centimeter tongue, coated with cilia, to protrude slightly. She identified the Being as a Jenari. A member of a race powerful enough to stand up to the Corporation, his kind usually did not travel in Corporate Space. Jenari rarely mingled with other races, remaining a mystery rarely seen among the Corporation’s citizenry. Because of this much speculation abounded regarding their peculiar genetic makeup. She had heard enough about the genetically blind, Medusoid race to know the Jenari’s tongues served as their true ‘eyes’. With their tongues, they ‘tasted’ the air, able to sense their environment more accurately than could most sighted persons. Currently, the naked alien appeared nonchalant and relaxed. His posture broadcast his sense of control, his power over her in this private chamber, obviously unaware how easily that privacy -- his privacy -had been breached. The so-called secure interrogation cubicle was anything but, her master having ordered it wired for video and sound, rendering it accessible and easily monitored by him. The Jenari cocked his head toward her now, giving the impression of eyeing her askance, locating her so accurately, she almost doubted his sightlessness. “Sso…you are Willa. Your masster tellss me he hass had you trained ass a SSexengineer…capable of keeping a Dinyar-classs Wavesship and a medium number of crew in tip-top orgassmic condition.” The male’s sibilant words slid from his lips. He framed his sentences oddly, their cadence broken and rendered choppy by the repeated extrusion of his tongue. The cilia laden appendage darted out between every several words, sipping the air in her direction. “You look much too fragile for ssuch sstrenuous work. A female of your delicassy sshould be cossseted and cared for…your cunt well conditioned with frequent usse…your ssweet cream churned with a long thick sspoon…” Willa felt the Jenari’s thick voice, his dulcet tones, flowing over her, calming her jangling nerves. Her pussy, long denied any easing, dewed in response to the pictures his words painted. A strong compulsion beat at her, making her want nothing so much as to loll at his feet in adoration. Strange, how clear his words are, given that he speaks using that crowded appendage… Oh, Drasarka -- not so strange when he is attempting to mind-thrall me! “Sparkle!” With a negating shake of her head and an inward surge of disgust at the endless power-games of males, she threw up her mind blocks, easily winning free of the subliminal influence. Angered beyond thinking, she verbally blasted the alien, incensed he would try such a trick on her. “Your mind speak will not work on me, Jenari.” She tossed her head, meeting his renewed mental challenge with a sneer. “I am a Sprite. I cannot be compelled by your voice, nor can your honeyed words thrall me.” The alien’s wide mouth spread in a practised movement that aped a smile. “You are a fressh ssassy baggage! I can ssee why your masster ssayss you invite beatingss, sslave!” His lips closed in a thin line,
concealing his tongue. She cringed, damning her mouth and her loss of self-control. By Sparkle! When would she learn to keep her comments to herself? What would she do if her unruly anger lost her this chance of escape? It had taken too long to convince her master she truly wished to serve his plans by spying for him. She had spent the long, grueling years learning about ship propulsion units, drive flux capacitors and other diverse technical entities for just such a chance as this: escape. During that time, she’d swallowed her gorge and taken the physical abuse and so-called sexual cruelties Lord Avron had doled out, never letting on how his milder tortures ignited her carnal hungers. She’d only slipped up once, but that lapse had proven costly. Avron had somehow learned she needed his release -- any partner’s release -- inside her, needed the life-giving fluid of come washing the walls of her sex in order to flourish and grow a healthy set of pinions and fronds. Since that time, he’d kept her at the minimum edge of physical and psionic sexual starvation, taking pleasure in gauging what lengths she would go to, the degradations she would endure in order to receive a few drops of come. Years of maneuvering, of posturing and subterfuge had paid off. Lately, unrest and political furor had escalated within the Corporation. Due to financial setbacks and personal miscalculations, Lord Avron had lost respect among his peers. The other Corporation Lords, like canker-phish -- more deadly than the great blalor-sharks of Trofu that devoured their own young -- hovered about, sniffing around his weakness, waiting for his failure. Her master had been forced to regroup, jettisoning some of his plans for advancement just to maintain his present lofty position among the powerful despots. Unwilling to go outside his private power base to obtain help and whatever information he sought, it had been easy to convince him of her willingness to win the position as Sexengineer aboard the Quiet Kitty Waveship and garner information from its crew to transmit back to him. Why he had become obsessed with this vessel, she neither knew nor cared. All that concerned her lately was finding her scattered people. Sparkle called for her and its other children, its summons an imperative she could not ignore. Time was fast running out for her. If she messed this interview up, she knew Avron would kill her. Belly roiling with resentment, she averted her face to hide her grimace and abased herself before the alien -- probably her last chance at freedom. “I offer apologies to you, Gentle-Being. I beg you to take no offence.” “Be at easse, Ssprite. I tesst all who sseek to sserve aboard my vesssel. No one sso eassily controlled iss welcomed aboard my Quiet Kitty. Let uss begin anew…” One long arm extended palm up, in the manner of greeting peculiar to her slavers, the alien stepped from behind the chair, unerringly approaching Willa. “I am Bevel, masster of the Quiet Kitty Waveship.” She choked, eyes riveted in desperate immediate hunger to his newly revealed sex. Obviously, her information loop had seriously failed to include some pertinent data… Standing before her, hands extended, awaiting her acknowledgement of his greeting, the alien was an impressive sight. Or rather, the impressive sight was his more than ten inch penis swaying lazily between his grey muscular thighs. A darker grey than the rest of his skin, the Medusoid cock undulated back and forth, its serpent-like moves hypnotic, compelling, drawing her fascinated gaze. Forgetful of her lowly status, she openly ogled the alien’s sex, mouth opened in disbelief, never having
encountered a species with a sentient penis. As she watched, the writhing thing coiled back upon itself, rearing like a decobra preparing to strike. The bulbous head pointed directly toward her nest fronds, bobbing slowly, its single lidless eye fixating on her feather-covered mound as if it saw beyond her plumage to the dripping sex concealed behind her lilac and fuchsia fronds. Like his tongue, the shaft of the alien’s cock was coated with squirming cilia -- hundreds of them, differing in length from less than a quarter inch to over an inch long, each one writhing in its own, solitary rhythm. They even covered the thick sac of his seeds, the only bare spot being the smooth cowled head covering that snapped into an expanded decobra-like configuration. The Jenari’s organ intrigued her. She fantasized, with greedy imagination, how the unique appendage would feel crawling through her starved channel, writhing inside her, touching and stroking every hidden crease and fold of her juicing sex. She shuddered as a wicked throbbing beat low in her belly, a quivering pulse of lust thrummed within. Clenching her thighs and her teeth, more needy than she could ever recall being, she moaned. Heat rushed beneath her cheeks and her mouths -- upper and nether -- watered, aching emptily. Her swelling clit emerged from behind its sparse covering of nest fronds, rearing its tiny head in arousal. Oh, Sparkle, I hunger! She wriggled edgily, rubbing her legs together tightly, applying needed pressure against her pleasure point. Her current master -- she sincerely hoped the sadistic Corporation bastard rotted in Drasarka -- kept her right on the border of psychic starvation. He knew enough about her people to keep her emotionally and physically depleted, ensuring she lacked the ability to re-grow her molted plumage. He beat her regularly…past her sensory enjoyment level, for his own pleasure, never hers. Beat her badly, glorying in her pain, her killing hunger, forcing her to spend sadly depleted energy stores healing her injuries. She fought her arousal, her need to slip a finger down and caress the knot at the apex of her thighs. Although she ached to attack the alien, to force him through an orgasm, she resisted, struggling for calm. Knowing her Master watched, suspecting he hid, secreted somewhere, beating his cock while he waited for her to foul up. She refused to give him a thrill…or any reason to cancel this interview early. “I am Willa Sprite. Slave to the Corporation. How may I pleasure you?” “Assume a ssplayed possition upon yonder couch. I wissh to tasste your pussy.”
Chapter Two
Willa shivered, frozen in want and wariness, vacillating between running to the couch and running out the door. Her master had forbidden her to find pleasure with any other. “My master has forbidden me to climax. If I do, I shall be punished.”
The Jenari frowned. “What do I care about your punisshment, sslave? Do ass you are told!” What punishment would he exact for even the act of contemplating the disobedience of his will? How much would her loved ones pay if she complied with the alien’s request? Oh, Sparkle! She did not care! For a chance at pleasure such as his tongue promised, she would pay anything. A heated dollop of cream oozed from between her swollen labia as Willa eased her shaking body down onto the sloping cushioned slab, knees parted wide with a leg positioned on either side of the torture device. Trembling, she lay flat, head resting lower than her body, the cool material a shock against her warm back. Raising her hands above her head, she stretched until the automatic cuffs engaged, locking about her frail wrists. Hands secured, she scooted her bottom toward the bottom of the couch, straining for the foot restraints. Obviously, beings of a taller stature had designed the coupling bench. Finally, the foot shackles locked about her bulky slave cuffs and she sighed, gladly giving up all control over the current situation. Lithe and supple, her body reclined against the firm surface, legs drawn tightly apart, a connoisseur’s banquet of delight. Between her legs, her pussy gaped, silken folds drawn apart by the extreme position of her hips and thighs. The moist violet flesh quivered as a wash of cool air swirled about her heated sex. A true sexual submissive as were all Sprites, Willa struggled to maintain her silence, fought to keep her lips closed over the burning need to beg for the Jenari’s cock in her starving sex. Honey spilled, dewing her thighs as she shifted on the cold leather, pulling against the restraints to cant her hips up, presenting her cunt for his inspection. He had said he wanted to taste her…she wanted him to do that and more, needed it right now with an intemperate hunger that could ruin all her plans. A rich chuckle rippled from the alien. Bending low, he carefully scrutinized her mound, running his long, slim fingers through the feather fronds of her sex. “Ssoft! Sso ssoft and ssilky, Willa Ssprite. Iss your little pussy ass ssoft, ass ssilky?” “Taste and see,” she offered, pumping her hips toward the hand busy exploring her intimate secrets. Face hardening with irritation, the alien drew his hand back and straightened. His tongue retreated into his mouth and Willa moaned, wondering frantically what she had said to anger the Jenari. She had all ready learned that when this Jenari closed his mouth, rejecting all stimuli, it signified disfavor. “Please, my lord, do not be angry with this Sprite. I meant no disrespect…” “You ordered me!” the Jenari spat out, tongue flicking agitatedly, sightless eyes snapping. Head fronds shifting and sliding against the slick leather, she shook her head, no. Eyes wide, heart thrumming, she trembled in her restraints. “Sir, I but issued an invitation.” Even as the frantic words left her mouth, she understood the inappropriateness of her answer. She gasped, pulse racing as she realized her actions had earned her a punishment. “Forgive this lowly slave! Please punish this unworthy one.” She spoke the learned sentences by rote, conditioned by years of compliance. Pussy creaming, she begged, fearful he would accept her pleas, fearful he would not. What did she know of this alien? How might he punish her? How far would he take
this opportunity? Farther than she could bear…? “You are dissplayed in the perfect possition for me to sspank your little pussy, sslave.” Fear, unmixed with the usual arousal, doused her passion. Her master had whipped her pussy just once and she had never forgotten the agony he inflicted. Because Sprites were natural submissives, their bodies responded to most pain with pleasure, yet, perhaps because their sexual organs were their primary nutrient intake organs and the most sensitive points on their body, abuse to that area could easily incapacitate them. They could literally starve to death if healing didn’t take place soon enough. Who would stop this Jenari if he went too far? Though dread swirled in the pit of her belly, she managed not to entreat the Jenari for mercy. If it appeased him to beat the vulnerable flesh between her thighs, she would strive to endure it without climaxing. She would endure anything that took her away from the sadistic Corporate fuck she called master. “I deserve punishment, Sir. I am sorry I displeased you.” “Very pretty, sslave. Ssince you have regained your mannerss, I sshall go lightly on you …” Palming the remote control to the bench, the alien raised the bottom of the couch and widened the base until he had her thighs spread so far apart she feared the tendons would snap. A second button lowered the top section until her head hung at cock level. Stepping close, the Jenari stood above her, his cock within mouth’s reach, her sex raised and immobilized for his convenience. In this position, her legs splayed wide, pussy on prominent display, he could choose to either spank or taste at his whim. He seemed to have the same thought, for he finger-combed her meager fronds, running his hands up and down her thighs, smoothing her glistening cream into her supple skin. “Before your deplorable actionss, I had meant to eat thiss lussciouss tidbit, giving uss both a delightssome time. Now, I sshall not give you pleassure. Insstead, you will pleassure us. You musst take my brother into your mouth and bring uss to orgassm.” He patted her shrinking flesh, his fingers curling into the soft folds to stroke her clitoris. Juice bubbled up and over, spilling along her swollen pussy lips. “I will not sstop sspanking thiss little jewel until we come in your mouth.” Placing one hand behind his back, he rested the other against her dripping sex. “Begin.” Hands shackled, Willa could not reach for him and her eyes flashed a thank you when he stepped closer, bringing his writhing cock close to her open mouth. However, before her lips could enclose him, the cock jerked up and away, swaying out of reach of her straining mouth, seeming to taunt her limited efforts. Crack! A heavy hand descended on her pussy, a sharp harbinger of the pain to come. Long, multi-jointed fingers curled into her opening, testing her clit, dipping inside to probe her wetness, mixing pleasure and pain in a dizzying rush of sensations. Not giving her the chance to decide which dominated: the pleasure or the pain, he struck again. Fire danced in the sensitive flesh of her cunt…lips, clit, opening…all coming alive with agonizing intentness under the power of his blows. By Sparkle, if I orgasm under the administration of this luscious pain, my master will make my last
punishment at his hands look like child’s play, but the pain feels so good, I don’t know how long I can hold out. Moaning, she raised eyes filled with a frantic question, silently asking his intent. His cock continued to dance out of reach, taunting and teasing her, denying her the chance to end this torment. The Jenari’s tongue protruded, scanning her, gauging the level of her pain, judging the length she could endure. “Sspeak.” “How can I take you in my mouth when you constantly elude me? If you would free my hands…” “I will not free you.” The alien’s sharp words caused her shoulders to slump. They jerked back, tension pulling them toward the center of her back at the impact of the next strike, this one so painfully pleasurable, she cried out, arching. “leveB iss angry,” the Jenari said, validating her musing of whether the cock held sentience, “and you must appeasse him, lure him to you…” “Tell me how,” she croaked, her throat constricted with fear…she could not fail, not now, not this close to achieving her goal. “The ssame way females lure all cockss…with promissess of pleassure.” Willa shook her head, fighting to clear her lust-muddled thoughts. The un-metered cadence of his blows gave her no warning, no chance to judge when next the lightning would strike. Her mound throbbed, swollen and red from the repeated punishment. Her entire sex, from clit to ass, burned under the lashing of his hands, the illicit forays of his fingers. Those limber fingers delved and dug, probed and prodded, kept her nerves jumping, her pussy slick with the exotic essence of her pre-come. The sticky liquid worked against her, making the sharp slaps sting as his palm and fingers tackily adhered to her flesh. What does he want? How can I lure him? Rolling her eyes up to gaze at the stubborn cock, she saw the tip had unfurled, the decobra-like expanded hood flaring silvery grey about the brooding head. Cilia undulating in the wash of an invisible wind, it coiled ready to strike, tucked tight against the alien’s belly. Promises of pleasure, huh…? Let’s see how the cock likes this… “leveB, please…I want to give you pleasure. Come, slide into my mouth, let me caress your fingers, tongue your little snakes into ecstasy…” Opening her mouth, Willa slid her tongue out, wiggling it in wet invitation. Pursing her lips, she made sucking sounds before rimming her lips until they gleamed wetly, making licking motions with her tongue. Above her, the cock paused, seemed to watch as her body rocked helplessly under the two quick, hard cracks of the Jenari’s hand. Her cunt could not take much more before exploding. Desperate, she redoubled her efforts. “Come to me, leveB. Let me fuck you with my mouth. I will take you down my throat, swallow your long, writhing length until you explode and flood me with your come. I will squeeze you so tightly, you will…ahhhhh!” That last swat hurt like hell. Her pussy on fire, her clit throbbing madly, swollen and hot, sensitized by the
stinging stimulation laid down by the alien male’s punishing hand, she twisted in her restraints. Mindlessly tugging at the soft, pliable leather, choking on the tears of ecstasy she could no longer hold back, she strained upward, mouth wide in a soundless cry, dying for another feel of the luscious pain. With no warning, the alien’s cock chose that time to strike. The thick smooth head speared into her mouth, the writhing shaft pushing its way past her open lips. The feeling overwhelmed her. Each separate strand of cilia waved turbulently, brushing against her teeth, her gums, and the roof of her mouth. Ruthlessly, the cock acquainted itself with her textures, her taste and her heat. The bulbous head nudged her tonsils, sending jolts of electrical sparks along her moist tissue. Lightning arced within, flashing from point to point, the riveting charges striking sparks along her nerve endings, stiffening her nipples and zinging along her veins to tingle electrically in her clit. Her vagina clenched, suddenly awash in fluid as her lips closed tightly about the wriggling, bucking cock. She had never felt anything like the sheer arousal pouring through her, lighting up every fiber of her being, making her nerve endings sing with erotic joy. Cunt juices spilling from her fiery core, she lifted into the Jenari’s harsh slaps, heart thundering as she wordlessly begged for more…and more. Mouth filled with his unique sex, she tongued him vigorously, scraping her teeth back and forth over the waving cilia, lightly abrading them, calling forth more of the zinging, nipple-tightening bolts of energy. The shaft worked its way down her throat, brushing and pushing against the sultry hot interior of her mouth. She loosened her jaw and swallowed, taking the long member down and down, her throat tickled and soothed by the smooth tiny tentacles. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked on the shaft and head, wishing she could reach his balls. Concentrating on the task before her, she drew strongly and worked her throat muscles, determined to bring him to completion. The feeling of hands parting her, of chilled, recycled air washing over her exposed cunt, drew her attention to her aching nether regions. She felt her labia drawn back, felt the cold swirling about her hot clitoris seconds before a sudden flurry of hard, furious blows landed directly on the small bundle of nerves. A holocaust of lust ignited within her cleft. Hips pumping madly, she clamped down on the writhing shaft crawling in and out of her throat, her cries vibrating around the bulky invader. A shudder raced through the Jenari and Willa felt his legs tremble as he rested his deceptively long, whipcord body against her thighs. With a shattered cry, the male slammed his hips against her mouth as his…brother…spewed a fiery stream of semen down her throat. Whipping his hips forward three more times, he pumped hard as a second load of come gushed into her working mouth, his cock lodged so deep, she had no choice but to swallow and swallow again. His long prehensile fingers convulsed in her streaming cunt, gripping her plump labia and pulling them apart, revealing the deep fuchsia blush of her soaked pussy. With a harsh groan, he bent down to her, sending his unfurling tongue deep into her spasming channel. Willa screamed as the Jenari’s tongue sank into her, writhing as a hundred fingers of fire stroked inside her, touching and fluttering like moths’ wings against her sensitized flesh. She screamed again, begging for release, the sensations too much, too overwhelming to bear and remain silent. Just before she could climax, as she shuddered and shook from the incredible lashing of his
many-tentacled tongue, he withdrew, leaving her mewling and panting in distress. If she had dared, she would have cursed him for his cruelty, for leaving her wracked with the pain of an interrupted orgasm. While his face hovered above hers, the Jenari whispered a furtive, sibilant command. Then, unerringly directing his face toward the camera pick-up, Bevel grinned. “A ssuperior sspecimen, Lord Avron. I sshall take her at our agreed upon ssum.”
Chapter Three
What’s wrong with Bevel? Willa’s fingers flew across the system board, automatically reading the power fluctuations and adjusting the different nutrient flows as needed, her hands attending to her duties while puzzling over the pilot’s uncharacteristic solemn mien. She might have known him only a few days, but it didn’t take much to see something serious occupied the usually jovial Jenari’s mind. He hadn’t even been this quietly subdued when the two of them had dug out the locater implant buried beneath the skin of her back, just below her left shoulder blade. Removing it herself, secretly, had proven impossible. Every time she attempted it, the instruments in sickbay shut down at her orders, refusing to tamper with an official government device. Remembering how scared she’d been to approach the pilot caused her to rub her belly, soothing the ghostly echo of nerves. Sick to her stomach, she had begged Bevel to help her, telling him only that her master wished her to spy on the ship, but that she would rather serve her new masters faithfully. Without comment, Bevel had wielded the sharpened spike of baridiium, slicing open her skin and removing the bloody bio-tag. She’d placed it in a sealed and shielded bio-container and stashed it in hiding until they could space it once the ship translated into Wave-space, where it would be impossible to retrieve. If their luck held, Lord Avron might believe the ship had encountered one of the many hazardous space anomalies that littered the dangerous route and perished. Not that he would stop searching for them, but it might buy them some time while he waited for evidence to the contrary to surface. With a sigh, Willa’s mind cycled back to her earlier thoughts. What is eating Bevel? Could it have something to do with why he had refused to leave before today? She cringed, reminding herself for the hundredth time about the necessity of controlling her temper. She had lost it, railing and ranting at Bevel two ship nights before, demanding they leave immediately. The fear that her master could change his mind and snatch her away before the small ship had cleared the space-dock never left her for long. The Jenari had adamantly refused to leave until -- as he said -- “the last possible time increment.” Unable to change his mind, she had slunk to her bunk and chewed her iridescent nails to the quick, skittish and too nerve-wracked to sleep. The next day had been more of the same -- arguments and
sullen looks between them, anger seething in the air. This morning, Bevel had awakened her with a contrite tongue-lashing, driving her to a glittering peak before leveB had plumbed the depths of her throat, leaving a warm, thick puddle of his copious satisfaction in her belly. In a quiet, morose voice, he’d told her to report to the bridge at Ship Middens, when they would break dock and head out to their translation point. She had been so happy to comply she had failed to notice his lowered spirits. She couldn’t miss them now, but as long as he maintained his stolid silence, she didn’t know what she could do to help lighten his spirits. She would think of something, though. Seeing the Jenari sad and depressed weighed on her own giddy happiness. She wanted him to be as happy as she felt. Once they translated into Wave-space, she would leave Lord Avron far behind her, his influence lessening with every parsec of space she put between them. At last, she had started upon the path to find her lost sisters and her injured planet. Thank Sparkle Bevel had proved to be a Being who secretly deplored slavery. She cherished his promise of freedom once she worked off the price of her hire. She would gladly serve the crew’s sexual needs while maintaining the engines and machinery in tip-top condition, for every quadrant they entered would be another opportunity to locate and rescue her fellow Sprites. Five minutes before take-off, the floor planks of the Quiet Kitty bridge command center suddenly began vibrating to a low, broken, off-key hum. Willa swung around, head tilted, daintily pointed ears perked forward as she tried to identify the origin of the strange sound. It didn’t quite sound like engine trouble, but she’d better make sure… “Engine check, Bevel! Belay departure proceedings,” she called out, letting the genetically blind Jenari pilot know she was leaving her position to perform a system diagnostic. Releasing her seat’s locking straps, she floated out of her command chair and over to her magnetic boots. She eased her feet into the bulky footwear, thankful they anchored her feet on the floor. As her heels touched down, something huge and furry brushed against the left side of her body, something warm, heavy, and invisible. “Holy Sparkle!” She jumped about a foot in the air, magnetic boots no hindrance to height with fear lending power to her jumps. “What the hell was that?” Her heart pounded crazily, bounced around in her stomach, bumping into her trembling guts. As she glanced around frantically, the variegated pupils of her eyes widened and swirled with confused panic. “Bevel, don’t just sit there, man!” she hissed. “Guard yourself! There’s something in here with us. It just brushed against my legs!” Bevel swiveled his command chair around with a deft push of his foot against the tread-scored floor, face lighting up in a gamin smile. “Oh, that’ss jusst our lasst arriving crewmember. Actually, he iss the true captain of the sship and the crewmember I really hired you to care for.” The Jenari gave a jaunty wave of his hand, addressing the thin air. “Glad to ssee you made it, Ssir. I didn’t think you’d have enough time to take care of that lasst assignment and rendezvous before take-off, but I’m not ssorry you proved me wrong. Leaving you behind did not ssit well with me.”
Swinging her head back and forth, she tried to locate to whom or what her crewmate spoke. By Sparkle, she’d signed on to service a ship with an insane crewmember. “Bevel!” she screeched, her usual dulcet tones lost in her rising fear. “If you are truly speaking to a Being present on this bridge, why can’t I see it?” He twisted further about, cocking his sightless gaze in her direction. “You’re not sscared are you, Willa? Why, our Captain iss ass tame as a Terran kitty cat! Jusst call him!” Making sucking noises interspersed with soft pleading, his hand held low, long fingers waving, the blind first mate crooned, “Here kitty, kitty, kitty…here, kitty, kitty!” Whatever it was, the entity did not seem to find the Jenari amusing. A ground-shaking roar blasted the silence, and the pilot almost fell out of his chair laughing. The roar faded away, leaving the Jenari’s demented cackling scraping against her raw nerves. She again caught that low-pitched, ground-shaking thrum…and realized the thing was closer…stalking her. She began backing slowly away, straining her perfectly sighted eyes, anxious to see what she could so easily hear. She sucked in a deep breath and inhaled the exhaled breath of the invisible…thing. “Oh…my…good…Sparkle!” Male. Primal. Wild. Whatever species the Being was, Willa knew it to be masculine. Its wild, musky smell inundated her senses, triggering her arousal as thoroughly as if the creature had hooked a claw in her gut, tugging on the string of nerves connected directly to nipples and cunt. Her stomach roiled, heart pounding as she frantically backpedaled from the repeated gusts of sultry air. “That’s no kitty, Bevel. It’s a damned Tygyr or something!” His rich chuckle filled the small space. “Oh, good graciouss, Willa, a Tygyr? How do you like that, quiet kitty? What a sstep down for you, eh…?” The pilot turned back to his astrogation panel, laughing his fool head off. She frowned at him. She didn’t find the situation at all amusing. The invisible Being had backed her to the bulkhead, trapping her. With no place else to retreat to, she hugged the steel wall, edging along the curving surface. A Sprite from the planet Sparkle -- labeled Erewhon-3 by the Corporation -- she stood tall for one of her species, proud of her four feet, nine inches height. She had never wished to be taller…until now. Now, she apparently stood mouth…fangs…high to the creature facing her, its hot breath blasting the light, fluffy fronds of her lavender-pink plumage away from her quivering cheeks. The thing standing close enough to scorch her with its breath remained undetectable to her perfect sight. Frozen with fear, mouth barely moving, she whispered, “Bevel…what the hell is it?” “Hmmm…I don’t rightly know how to explain our Captain,” he replied, turning his sightless eyes back to
his specially made console. “Not to worry, though, SSexengineer. My guess iss…you’ll be finding out ssoon enough. Then you’ll ssee the Captain can be…whatever you need him to be.” Her head turned sharply at his comment, her eyes grown hard as she searched his alien-featured face for clues. She had found reading him difficult. Never having encountered a Jenari before, she had no reference with which to compare his facial expressions or muscular reactions. Did a smile mean the same thing to a Jenari as it did to a Sprite? How could she know when some expressions, even among same species, represented something totally different? Clenched fists on a Terran signaled anger or tension, yet the same gesture by a Declation denoted amusement. By what criteria should she judge the Jenari’s motives toward her? Did he know of her special needs? If he did, how had he gained his information? What should she do…what could she do if her identity and safety was compromised? Had she made a monumental mistake accepting his offer of freedom and gainful employment and signing up as the Sexengineer for the Quiet Kitty Waveship and crew? A wet, rough tongue swiped across the skin between her frond-covered breasts, jerking her attention from the Jenari pilot. She jumped. The invisible tongue repeated its ministrations. “It’s…he’s…licking me!” she hissed in a shaken stage whisper, vestigial wings fluttering madly. Her heart pounded in fright. She lurched back, threw her hands up, shielding her flesh from the tongue’s sandpapery ministrations. That hot, wet appendage had felt as wide as a Winking walkway. “Is it hungry?” she asked fearfully. “You know how I love being eaten, Bevel, but I don’t want to be -eaten! Help me! Damn your laughing hide, what should I do?” After he straightened up from his belly curling laugh, his sightless eyes met hers, glinting with warning. “You’d better sstop calling the Captain it.” “Have you fed him lately?” She was more concerned about that tongue swipe than about correct pronoun usage. “Is it trying to taste me…?” “No, he hass not been fed, lately, but he iss not hard to pleasse, appetite wisse,” Bevel murmured, mouth twitching. She could almost see his Jenari-minded humor surging up, preparing to strike. Willa had experienced the first mate’s maddening predilection for practical jokes and tricks the first day she met him. The last three days had cemented her negative opinion of his sick habit. Sprites were serious-minded individuals and she simply could not understand his need to involve others in scenarios driven by his strange idea of humor. “Now is not the time for your inappropriate jokes, Bevel. What does the damned thing eat…besides fresh Sprite?”
Already becoming re-engrossed in his precise preparations for take-off, he absently answered, “He iss a sspecies of cat, Willa. Catss like cream…” As he completed his sentence, a humid blast of gusting breath blew apart the sparse fronds covering her sex. A wedge-shaped head roughly inserted itself between Willa’s thighs and a wide, coarse tongue swiped her dewed flesh from anus to clit. The force of the tongue thrust lifted her from the ground, sending her feet flying from her magnetic boots. She hung suspended on the invisible tongue, a shockwave of pleasure sizzling under and along her skin. The sudden invasion swept all thought from her. Intense feelings drove the fear from her. Her toes curled at the pleasurable sensations sweeping through her. The thing’s tongue filled her to overflowing and she writhed on the spike of gravelly flesh, her mouth rounded in an ‘O’ of arousal-tinged excitement. The hot, rough organ plowed deeper into her dripping sex, pulling out to lap the juices escaping from her slit, before pushing back up into her cream-filled pussy. Instinctively, she grabbed for an anchor. Her seeking hands encountered solid flesh covered in dense fur, fingers swept over a broad flat head and upstanding rounded ears. Sinking her hands into the dense ruff, wrapping her legs about the animal’s thick neck, she held on for dear life. The tongue curled up inside her, rasping against a sensitive spot and her cunt spasmed, raining honeyed cream down on the hot, thick invader as it drove and retreated, drove and retreated, working its determined way further into her tight, clasping channel. The Tygyr employed its tongue with ruthless talent, delving and rooting in her, its abrasive surface fraying her responsive tissues. It scraped across her vulnerable S-spots, awakening every nerve, bringing her cunt to screaming life. She shuddered, impaled and ravished, mind spinning with desperate excitement. The prickling tongue withdrew from her dripping pussy to swipe over her turgid clit, lapping at it, lapping it hard, licking it raw. Sharp teeth closed over it, bit down with deliberate pressure eliciting a primal scream of ecstasy. Spine bowing, nipples swelling and stabbing at the ceiling, Willa rode the Tygyr, humping her hips toward its mouth. Hands fisted in the ruff at the animal’s neck, she tugged its massive head tight against her juicing pussy. Her plumage blushed the hue of deep fuchsia as pleasure ripped through her -- so intense, so brutal, she screamed as she came, screamed until blackness overtook her…
The Captain, purring loudly, happily lapped up the fragrant cream spilling from the cunt of his new plaything. The crumpled Sprite lay on the deck in an ungainly sprawl. He paused only long enough to nudge her legs wider apart, not nearly finished supping on her honeyed essence. His deep, broken-cadenced purrs rose and fell as he worked his tongue into the tiny rosebud hole of the Sprite’s anus. Distantly, his acute hearing registered Bevel’s agitated movements over at the command console as his second-in-command swiveled in his chair to face him. “Sshe tasstess quite good, doessn’t sshe, Brant?” Bevel canted his head, his tongue questing out his captain’s mood. “Her cunt iss deliciouss and sshe iss an excellent cock ssucker. I know I bought and hired her mainly for you, but perhapss you wouldn’t mind ssharing a tasste every now and then ?” Lifting his damp muzzle from his tasty treat, eyes slitting in warning, Brant allowed a snarl to rumble deep in his throat. He had never before minded sharing a female with the Jenari yet, this time, he didn’t care for
the knowledge that Bevel had enjoyed this delectable dish before he had. Nor did he appreciate the twinkle in the sightless eyes of his navigator or the sly smile widening his damn mouth. As usual, the Jenari ignored his warning. “Are we enjoying our cream, then, Captain?” Bevel wagged his writhing tongue against the roof of his mouth in admonishment. “Really! On the cold deck, Ssir? What? Are you trying to give another meaning to the phrasse: ‘Laying them in the aisless’?” Another chuckle escaped him as he shook his finger at his Captain and sometime friend. “Naughty, naughty kitty!”
Chapter Four
Willa woke with a start, shuddering as her body convulsed in the aftermath of the most devastating orgasm of her short life. She shook her head, fighting sensory overload…a case of too much, too fast. By Sparkle, what a ride! Gingerly inventorying her chilled flesh and tight muscles, she rubbed her sore neck, hissing with irritation. How did she end up lying on the floor of her cabin? Whoever had carried her here could at least have placed her on her bunk. Willa’s thoughts faltered…a Sh’Bahkyr Ghost! That had to be the answer. A Sh’Bahkyr in his Ghost form had licked her to orgasm. Once he finished, the creature had probably carried her in his jaws, which explained why the nape of her neck felt damp and tender. The flesh there ached as if a harsh hand…or careful teeth had grasped her. Willa released an awed breath. The Sh’Bahkyr race, reputed to be a people steeped in the erotic arts, had always held an undeniable fascination for her. If one were to believe the stories that circulated among the space ways, the males excelled in giving multiple orgasms to their mates before finally spending themselves in copious showers of sperm -- sperm potent enough to cross species. Could it impregnate even a Sprite from the planet Sparkle? Further, legend held that the Sh’Bahkyr males possessed two forms: one humanoid-bipedal, the other animal. The primary form always took precedence, took flesh and substance. The secondary form, whether humanoid or animal, manifested as ephemeral or ghostlike…invisible, but having the same substance as its visual opposite.
Oh, yes, Willa thought shakily, scorching heat scouring her body as she relived the sensations of a hot, rough, impudent tongue forging past her skimpy nest fronds to embed itself in her dripping slit. Definitely, the ghost form retained its substance! Her hand slipped down her torso, exploring her nest, unsurprised but gratified at the new fullness of her feathers. Petting and finger combing her fronds, she fluffed them fondly, grateful for the newly sprouted growth. She crooned a happy little melody, lips parting in a wide smile as she thought how long it had been since she’d had an adequate orgasm. Too long! All of her feather-fronds had been in danger of molting. The strength of the Tygyr-induced orgasm had caused her plumage to grow and deepen in color. Of course, she needed much more before she could attain full growth and health, still… If I have attained this new growth without receiving sperm, is it possible I could actually grow a Sprite from our joining? Willa’s entire body shimmered with barely contained excitement. She had never entertained the thought that she might one day have a child. The Sprites of Sparkle had proven barren with all known species. Their numbers steadily decreased with the years as the surviving Sprites molted and died in forced captivity, unable to flourish without adequate sexual stimulation and unwilling to give their captors the information that would only serve to deepen their captivity. If her race could mate with the Sh’Bahkyr…if the males’ sperm proved to be as potent as legend reported…if, if, if! Willa’s thoughts raced with renewed hope. If she could find more males like her invisible Captain, would they be willing to help her people? Whether or not they could or would help might prove to be a moot point since the Corporation’s official List of Sentient Beings listed the Sh’Bahkyr Race as extinct. Willa now knew at least one male Sh’Bahkyr survived -- it, or rather, he had pleasured her into a faint -- and she suspected there were lots more of the so-called extinct race, despite the official word to the contrary. After all, legend and the Corporation also claimed she and her fellow Sprites were a genetic impossibility, yet she lived and breathed. Sprites might have trouble keeping their feet on the ground, but there was nothing flighty about their intelligence, so when irrefutable evidence presented itself, a wily Sprite like Willa took note. Her head came up in determination. She would find out all she could about the Captain before revealing her own secrets. They might possibly become allies, but for now, she would take no chances… Willa rose from the floor, stretching her arms up, rolling her shoulders and neck to remove the last of the kinks. As she finished her exercises, she became aware of heavy breathing. A steady, growling thrum pulsated loudly in the small confines of her cabin and she cautiously turned toward the sound, knowing now what that sound meant. She gasped, almost swooning again at the wondrous sight that met her devouring gaze. A gloriously naked male sprawled upon her bunk. His impossibly long legs, his thighs and calves were heavy with corded muscle. His dormant cock, resting against one out-flung leg, lolled long, thick, and delicious looking even at rest. The relaxed organ had her guts tightening and her cunt juicing. The rest of him appealed to her senses as much as his tasty looking rod. His well-shaped head -- the thinking one -- sported a full shock of tawny blond locks. Silky, luxurious looking curls that many a
female would envy tumbled about his shoulders and down his back, blending into the light fur that rippled across his broad shoulders. The lighter gold of his brows and lashes were startling against the darkness of his bronze skin. His Tygyr-gold eyes were enormous, fierce, and fathomless, the irises streaked with bold slashes of black, the pupils -- slitted like those of a Terran cat -- tracked her every movement. A thick dusting of hair or a light coating of fur covered his entire body, thicker at the nape and upper back area. The intriguing growth lent his body a deceptive sleekness. Latent power hummed beneath that relaxed skin and Willa salivated, itching to explore every inch of him, eager to run her fingers through that dense mat of soft-looking body fur. Willa quivered, heart racing as she met his audacious, knowing gaze. He smiled, showing sharply pointed white teeth, another trait of his Tygyr-like ghost form carried over to his primary humanoid form. The damp down of her nest fronds grew wetter at the thought of those sharp teeth nipping at her nipples and dripping cunt. Breathing deeply, Willa inhaled his spicy male scent, held it until her pent-up breath escaped on a sigh, fluttering through her dry lips. Her breast feathers fluffed outward, pushed aside by the stiff, hard purple tips of her engorging breasts peeking through their covering fronds. Her nipples ached fiercely, tightening for the piercing pleasure to come. She could hardly wait to service this prime specimen. “Your nipples are poking through your feathers. Is that a sign of arousal? Or fear?” Ooohh, of course he would have a luscious sounding voice! The deep, rolling thunder stroked her skin, raising a rash of fine bumps. Groaning, she swallowed thickly. “Arousal.” “Good. I don’t want you afraid when I fuck you.” “Some argue that fear lends spice to the act.” “I can agree with them if they speak of the female being fearfully glad she is about to get the best fucking she has ever had.” The Captain flashed his pointed teeth in a feral grin. “Or fearing she’ll never enjoy the touch of another male once she revives from the powerful orgasms her lover is about to give her… That kind of fear will certainly spice up the coming act.” He winked at her. “Pun intended.” “Fine talk for a quiet cock.” Willa smirked, tossing a dismissive glance at his still quiescent sex. “You do not look capable of providing the fuck you brag about. Or does your kind fuck with a limp cock as does your Jenari pilot?” According to what the Jenari had told her, Bevel’s cock stiffened at will but remained flexible while engaged in coitus, performing coitus by striking out like the decobra it resembled. Personally, the thought of his cock having a separate sentience titillated her imagination. She wanted a chance for a closer inspection, something she had yet to work up the nerve to ask Bevel. She would never forget how it had hovered, weaving and bobbing before her sex, sizing her cunt up for invasion. In the end, she’d begged him to fuck her, so desperate for an orgasm she had dared her master’s sure punishment. For naught, it turned out. The Jenari refused to fuck any but his bonded mistress. He held no strictures against sharing his tongue or his cock for oral sex, however. She licked her grinning lips recalling her initial trial. The pilot’s cilia-coated tongue belonged in a class all its own. “Make me hard.”
Willa bristled at the command. “Make your own self hard, Tygyr,” she sniffed, striding forward to face the man/beast that had unmercifully teased her and now lay on her own bunk, mocking her. She was no longer a slave, damn it, and he could just stop with the orders. “Why should I? You scared me! You played with my emotions and cruelly taunted me on the bridge. I am angry with you.” The Sh’Bahkyr reclined indolently, his sharp smile growing more pointed as he murmured, “I merely tested your response to the unexpected.” Willa wanted to ask what she’d scored on his innovative test, but declined to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had intrigued her. Still, her natural inclinations kicked in and she couldn’t resist flirting with him even as she scolded, “You licked my slit. That rough tongue of yours could have taken my skin off!” She pouted, fully aware of how her lips plumped and swelled invitingly, having practiced to get the expression right numerous times. The Sh’Bahkyr drew one leg up, wrapping his arms about his bent knee, muscles shifting smoothly and gracefully beneath firm skin. “I took great care not to abrade your delicate flesh…and I did a lot more than lick your slit, Sprite,” he bragged. “I pleasured you, drank your cream from your cunt -- a delicious bowl full of sweet, spicy sauce -- which only served to whet my appetite. I have issued a command, Sexengineer. As the captain of this ship, you owe me sexual service. Obey me.” She frowned. He was right, by Drasarka! Her anger drained away, making way for her very real interest. Eyes glued on his quivering member, Willa stood with feet slightly apart, unselfconsciously exposing her body to the Tygyr-man’s obviously approving gaze. She knew her body -- honed to tip-top shape -- displayed the best of the Spritely form. Her breast-fronds, still a little sparse despite her best efforts to keep them full and colorful, grew above full, rounded breasts tipped with long purple nipples. A fan of iridescent new fluff and fronds covered the small, pouty lips protecting her tiny slit, and her engorged clit poked impudently from between the plump lips. Her blend of purple, fuchsia and pink iridescent tail feathers barely spanned the wide expanse of her curvy hips, her favorite feature. Smiling in anticipation, she dipped a finger between her legs and swirled it through the juices slicking her cunt. A jolt of pleasure shot through her, racing up and down her spine to explode along her nerve endings at nipple and clit and anus. She added another finger, humming as she collected her dripping cream. Coating her hand with her slickness, she scrambled up onto the bunk and grasped her captain’s cock in a firm, slippery grip. It awoke with a vengeance, rearing up and up until it towered thickly between the male’s massive thighs, quickly exceeding her expectations. At rest, it had been impressive. Fully erect and outthrust, it inspired worship. Willa gave a happy chirp as she gleefully pumped the steely staff, her other hand gently fondling the softly furred mass of his balls. Brant Sylenus groaned aloud, his gut clenching as he watched the Sprite reverently fisting his cock. He’d argued against hiring a Sexengineer, afraid of bringing in an outsider, one who could learn too much about their secretive missions. Now, gritting his teeth as he battled a rising tide of dark pleasure, lifting his hips into the surprisingly tight grip of the small female, he gave thanks Bevel’s arguments had prevailed. “Take my cock in your mouth, Sprite. I would see how talented you are…”
He almost stopped breathing when the Sprite crawled into his lap, her little fuchsia tongue darting out to wet her lips. She continued sliding her hand up and down his hard shaft as she slowly lowered her mouth and swallowed the flared head of his cock, engulfing the ridged crown and half the shaft. His breath returned in a rush of ragged, panting draughts as she caught his cock in the hard, tugging suction of her lips. His hips lifted toward her face, forcing more of his shaft into her mouth. “More! Take more,” he gasped, catching her head between his palms, guiding her movements, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Feathers the color of a misty rainbow grew out of a well-shaped scull, floating about the female’s delicate looking face. Marveling at the contradiction between her fragile appearance and the strength evident in her grasp, he smoothed her fronds away from her face so he could watch her mouth working on his sex. Her small palm easily controlled his rampant cock, yet she looked slight enough to break in his powerful grip, her compact body petite, yet ripe with womanly curves. His hands tightened instinctively when he felt her pulling away, then released, allowing her the freedom of movement. He gave thanks for his decision when he felt her hot mouth close about his testicles. Her tongue swirled around the base, her lips contracted, teeth nibbled as she slurped on his sensitive sac, drawing almost painfully on his full balls. “By the Waters of Shaya, your mouth feels so tight, so hot!” A harsh groan escaped him as he felt his balls shifting, growing fuller and taut. Head thrown back in ecstasy, he buried his hands in her head-fronds, loving the exotic feel of the downy fluff between his gripping fingers. He tugged on her, maneuvering her head until she was once more sliding her mouth forward and back on his throbbing length. He moaned again, shaking under her ministrations, writhing as a sheet of flame burned its way along the path of his nerve endings, wanting the spiraling pleasure to last forever. The Sprite sank her dainty teeth into the head of his cock, daringly nibbling on the engorged gland. His body jerked, hips surged forward and he accidentally rammed his cock down her throat. Her convulsive swallowing motions, rhythmically constricting along the swollen shaft, ignited a conflagration of lust within his loins. His balls churned, tightened and drew up to hug the base of his rearing cock and he knew he could take no more. Heart pounding, he glanced down, entranced with the vision of the Sprite’s plump lips stretched wide around his thick organ. Her strong suction, her tireless mouth proved too much for his beleaguered control. With the full-throated roar of a hunting Tygyr, he gripped her head, held her still as he pumped his length down her throat with each powerful thrust, fucking her sweet mouth. Pulling back, he snapped his hips forward once more as his balls erupted, spewing white-hot semen. Spine arched, head pressing against the bulkhead, his big hands locked the female’s head to his groin as his sperm boiled up his pistoning cock. “Swallow my come, Sprite. Drink me down …” Tiny nails digging into his thighs, glowing eyes swirling in patterns of lilac, purple and fuchsia, the tiny woman repeatedly swallowed, greedily slurping down the spurting flood.
Chapter Five
Draped in a boneless sprawl across the captain’s lap, Willa gasped for air. Her throat, raw and aching, throbbed from the sawing friction his large sex had engendered. Within moments, she knew, her throat would heal and the aches disappear, leaving behind only feelings of blissful euphoria. His thick fingers slid up and down the shallow dip between her labia, barely parting the puffy lips, flirting with the turgid clit pulsing at the apex of her mound. “You have a wonderful mouth, Sprite.” The gravelly tones held approval and lazy satisfaction. “Shall I return the favor?” Willa rolled her head, eyes glazing over with lust. She cleared her throat, uncertain what to answer. She wanted his mouth, oh yes. Wanted those sharp teeth on her nipples and nipping at her clit, wanted that huge cock ramming her tiny hole until she screamed with the power of another climax washing over her. She wanted to come and come and come until her wings attained full growth and carried her into the brilliant light of a sensual nova. “I am supposed to be servicing you, Captain.” She settled for a noncommittal answer, wary of letting him know how badly she ached to be under him, riding his thick cock or on her knees as he shafted her tiny anus. “Call me Brant,” he ordered, fingers still playing in her slit, brushing her clit, sensitizing her for the coming interaction. “I would consider it service of the dearest kind, to allow me to sup at your bowl,” he growled, sounding hungry, impatient, even. Her small hands stroked over his shoulders, running through all that soft fur. “Yes, please, then…eat my pussy. Drink me down, Brant, and devour me.” Brant shifted, turning with her in his arms as he made himself comfortable on her bunk. “I will be careful,” he promised, placing both hands at her knees and opening her thighs to his avid view. “My tongue maintains its roughness in this form and I would not harm you.” “I am a Sprite. We enjoy some level of pain and heal quickly from injury. You need not hold back, for it is unlikely you will harm me beyond my body’s ability to enjoy.” His golden-black eyes stared at her for a long time before he turned his eyes toward her glistening pussy, examining it with a hungry gaze. “I must always hold back,” he murmured, brushing his fingers through the wispy fronds guarding her lilac and fuchsia tinted morsel. Sliding a questing finger into her heated depths, he pumped slowly in and out, mouth quirking in a half smile at the helpless sounds of arousal pouring from her mouth. “I do not wish to hurt this little feathered love nest.” The mouth of her sex closed tightly around that marauding finger. “Not this time,” she informed him, her hands sweeping over his shoulders and down his back, loving the feel of his fur under her fingers, “you need not hold back, this time nor the next. I desire your passion…want you to fuck me hard and forcefully. Bite me. Scratch me. I will come the harder for it.” Brant brought his eyes up, the slitted pupils distended and glowing. Searching her gaze for the truth of her statements, he sucked in an uneven breath. “I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he groaned, pulling his
finger out from her moist, hot pussy and spreading her legs by placing both hands against the inside of her thighs, applying pressure. A moment later, he moaned long and harsh, the sound rumbling in his chest as he lowered his head and tongued her, laving her slit with long, slow laps. Burying his head between her legs, he latched onto her clit with his pointed teeth, nibbling and nipping on her pleasure bud. Wetter and more aroused than she had ever been in her life, she glanced down her body, watching his head bob up and down as he slurped her juices from her pussy. Hands fisted in his hair, she urged him closer, encouraging his greed with huskily voiced words of praise and pleading. “Yes, like that…nip me with your teeth.” Two fingers held her open as he curled his tongue deep inside, reaming her silky slit with his rough appendage. He dragged a sharp pained cry from her when he sank a broad finger into the puckered hole of her anus, plunging in deeply. Her hips snapped up, reflexively seeking to escape the overwhelming sensation of his bold digit stretching the tight channel of her rectum. Pleasure welled, transmuting the pain. Moaning and shaking, tossing her head to and fro, tears of intense emotion drenching her lavender eyes, Willa keened out her need. Her hair fronds seethed in the wind caused by her agitated tossing, her nest fronds brushed silkily against Brant’s cheeks and forehead as he feasted on her. Spreading her knees wide, she planted her feet on the bunk’s thin mattress and humped her hips up, grinding against his busy mouth. “More! Please, more…harder!” A growl rumbled at her clit, vibrating her stiff button. Like sandpaper, his tongue rasped over and over her slit and clitoris, dragging ecstasy from her swollen flesh. Muscles clenching, spine arching, the Sprite screamed as her orgasm overtook her, smashing into and over her, tumbling her into an avalanche of sensation. “Now,” she sobbed as her fingers tightened in his hair, trying to tug his body up over her writhing limbs. Her small fists pounded ineffectually against his broad chest, protesting his focused determination to suction every drop of honey from her gushing pussy. “By Sparkle, Captain…enough! Please, please fuck me now!” “Since you plead so nicely…” He surged up her body, facile tongue swiping the lingering evidence of her excitement from his lips, settling heavily between her thighs. Claw-tipped hands grasped her knees, spread her wide as he positioned his thick cock against her flushed, swollen lips, pressing in, pushing past the silken wet flesh as he forged in and up in an unending glide of hot, thick cock, filling her up…filling her past her ability to breathe. “So tight, Willa…so hot…you are burning me, scalding my cock with your scorching juices.” “So hard…so big and thick…” She gasped. Tightening around the huge cock that felt like it was splitting her in two, she moaned, “I’ve never been filled like this. I can feel you under my skin!” She placed her hands on her belly, pressing down over the area where his huge cock shuttled in and out of her, its movements shadowed on her flesh. She shuddered, spilling juices around the pumping intruder, easing its way. “You’ll take all of it…all of me,” he ordered, a rumbling growl distorting his command as he lifted her legs and entered her at another angle, sinking into her another few inches, his thickness stretching her
impossibly wide. “I’m going to fill your little cunt up with my cock and then fill you up to overflowing with my sperm…” “Yes!” she cried, twisting under him, nails seeking purchase in the dense fur coating his back. Clutching him closer, she felt his muscles rippling, felt the flexing of his strong buttocks as he shafted her relentlessly, pulsing inside her, making her burn. And then she was crying, sobbing and shaking as the climactic heat built to a soul-rending crescendo, rolling over her in an inescapable surge of lust and repletion. “All of you…I want your cock, your seed…deep in me, deep as my soul…” With a roar that shook the bed and vibrated along the metal walls of the ship, the Sh’Bahkyr rose above her, lifting her clear off the bed and holding her over him in a fantastic display of physical strength and power that left her gasping. Clawed hands gripping her plump bottom, he moved her up and down the barrel of his shaft, his thicker head catching at the door of her pussy over and over, before surging back into her liquid depths, opening her channel to his long, sinfully delightful metered thrusts. His hard hands parted the cheeks of her bottom, digging in as he slammed her down on his stiff cock, throwing his hips up as he brought her hurtling down, impaling her repeatedly, strongly, as if he sought to reach her very soul. Her breasts bobbed with each forceful movement, bouncing resiliently, drawing the hot concentration of his gaze. She screamed as she felt the sweltering heat of his mouth closing over a distended nipple, felt his sharp teeth toying with the tip. A rush of heated moisture gushed from her churning cunt, slicking his pistoning pole and glistening in the wet, matted feather-fronds of her sex. Arms clasped about his neck, fingers digging into the muscled expanse of his shoulders, she clung to him, her bastion in the emotional storm he called from her churning depths. “Let go for me, Sprite.” His rough voice rasped over her tingling nerves. “Rain your sweet honey down on me. Come on my cock.” Willa moaned. She wanted to come, but it was his orgasm she needed more than her own… Heart pounding, breath stuttering in and out of her laboring lungs, she tightened her vaginal muscles around the throbbing cock impaling her, stabbing into the heated center of her sex. “Come with me,” she pleaded, allowing her sheath to ripple along the solid length of his shaft, clenching her legs tightly about his waist. “I need you with me…” Releasing her nipple, he gazed down into her eyes, his own grown hazy and slitted with lust. “I won’t come without you,” he gritted from between his teeth, his sexy growl tightening things in her belly that already quivered under the powerful thrusts of his pistoning hips. Lowering his mouth, he covered a turgid tip with his lips, deliberately biting down on the tight little nipple, piercing the skin. With a shout of pained ecstasy, she threw back her head and keened aloud, body dancing wildly in his arms. Bolts of sizzling energy raced up her spine, exploding along her bloodstream, cascading down her nerve endings like liquid lightning. Her pussy locked down on the thick wedge of flesh trapped between her thighs, squeezing it in rhythmic
convulsions as she chanted over and over, “Oh, yes, Tygyr…bite me…fuck me…” Together, they fell into a churning furnace of heat, writhing against each other, arms, legs and bodies melded into a single unit as they screamed out their climax.
Chapter Six
Gazing down in wonder, Brant watched all the bite and claw marks in the Sprite’s flesh close, healing before his disbelieving gaze. Her body was the most wondrous sight he had ever seen and this last trait, this instant healing, made her more beautiful in his eyes. It had been more years than he cared to count since he’d had the opportunity to give in to his baser instincts and fuck a female with all the strength pent up in his powerful body. Being Sh’Bahkyr, he totally embraced his beast. For his Tygyr, tame fucking was like surrounding a diabetic with sweets he could not eat, then tossing him a bowl of peas and carrots. The bland food did nothing to stem or satisfy his true, lingering hunger. This Sprite, this tiny, dainty female had taken all he’d had and reveled in his fierceness. She’d begged him to bite and claw her, to drive into her with the power he longed to use, yet feared to release. For the first time in eons, he felt complete and satiated, refreshed and ready to face the threat that daily loomed larger on his horizon. Brant smoothed a large hand along the downy flank of the sleeping Sprite, loving the smoothness of her supple skin. She didn’t know it, but in return for the generous gift of her body, she could have practically anything she wanted from him, so long as it did not endanger his hidden aims. Why is she here? She must want something. I cannot believe her being here is a serendipitous accident. Her former master is Lord Avron, the very creature I am set to destroy. He has to know that…has to have made plans to thwart me. What better way could Avron bring me down than to plant a spy right in my very lair? His smuggling and covert spying missions, while useful and highly lucrative, were still just fronts. Brant had two goals, ones that he could not abandon, the first and foremost being the recovery of his people. He would never cease searching for his lost sister, Letshya Sylenus, the queen of all the Sh’Bahkyr. Without her, his efforts to relocate, rescue, and reunite the scattered members of his clan and people would prove futile. However, above the regrouping of his people, his most secret and desperate need was seeing the fruition of his plans to bring the hated, tyrannical Corporation to its knees. He would never stop until he had wrested their power and influence from them…destroyed them utterly and completely. So where did this sexy Sprite fit in? Why had she accepted the post of Sexengineer on this tiny ship with a crew of two? With just Bevel and himself to share her bed, her chances of bettering her position aboard the Quiet Kitty were slim.
Brant’s lips tightened and his hand closed possessively over the rounded slope of her thigh. The thought of Bevel -- of anyone -- touching any portion of the body resting so peacefully against his caused a growl to rumble in his throat, had him exposing his fangs and tensing his body for attack. Snarling sub-vocally, he rephrased that last thought. She had no need of bettering her position aboard the Quiet Kitty…she had already gained the coveted position of Captain’s pet. As the Captain, he could exercise his option and keep her as his private playmate and that was how it would be. He’d have to deny Bevel’s request that he share Willa between them. No one but he would taste her flavors, touch her, or bring her to glorious orgasm. He gazed fondly down at her sleeping form. Oh, the games I have planned for you, my little Sexengineer… He would enjoy tying her to him however he could…with bonds of gratitude and affection and long, slow bouts of nurturing sex followed by hard, heavy sessions of raunchy fucking. His cock twitched, hardening as thoughts of all the things he wanted to do with her filled his mind. Things he couldn’t possibly do with or to the usual run of fragile females. How long is she going to sleep, anyway? He sighed heavily, sinking down to lie by her side, drawing her into the shelter of his arms. If he wanted to continue indulging his appetites and sating his awakening hungers, he had to find out what Willa’s agenda might be, had to find out if it were safe to keep her onboard the Quiet Kitty. Already, he felt connected to her, emotionally linked. He suspected the feelings would only grow with the enforced closeness necessitated by the smallness of his ship and the intimacy possible due to the distance between safe spaceports. Heart quaking, he earnestly wished the knowledge he sought would vindicate her. For the first time since the Corporation had destroyed his planet, he prayed to the ancient gods of his people. He prayed that Willa would prove true and trustworthy, that she was not a pawn of the Corporation. Shaya help him, if it turned out the Sprite spied for his enemy, he would have to eliminate her. He curled his body about hers, snuggling close as the ship -- his home -- settled around them with familiar creaks and groans of stressed metal. She felt right in his arms. Killing her would be like sending a blade into his own guts. *** She awoke with a full bladder and an urgent need to visit the head. Slipping out from under the lax arm of the snoozing Captain, she padded to the facilities and relieved herself, took a quick sonic shower and blasted warm air over her body, fluffing and grooming her rapidly drying fronds. A huge smile widening her lips, she checked the full fan of her feathers, pleased and excited at the heavy new growth. Four orgasms in one day…and the Tygyr had fed her three of his own! At this rate, she’d be flying by ship’s month mid-cycle. Willa finger-combed the delicate fluff shielding her sex, dipping an inquisitive finger between her swollen lips, checking for any lingering soreness. Feeling none, she smirked, looking forward to showing the Sh’Bahkyr Ghost the truth of her quick healing.
She was ready for another romp with the Tygyr. The captain had the largest cock she had ever ridden. Just the thought of its wide dimensions had cream gathering behind her hot folds and she wriggled deliciously. She couldn’t wait to have it surging between her thighs, stretching her pussy wide, once again invading her tight channel. A shiver wracked her, goose bumps coating her skin while the heat inside ran in rivulets down her leg. She needed more…now. Needed the Captain to fuck her again, force her down onto her knees and pound into her until she screamed with the luscious feel of his fur rubbing against her back, his heavily furred balls bouncing against the cheeks of her ass. Sexually starved for years, Willa wanted to fill up as much as she could, in preparation of the slim times that might be ahead. She didn’t expect to stay with the Tygyr for long. The first opportunity she found, she would slip away and find another ship, one her old Corporation Master would know nothing about. Much as she adored the way the Captain fucked her, she could allow nothing to interfere with her hidden agenda. She had to begin her search for her lost sisters, the Sprites of Sparkle, the only ones with the power to awaken their sentient planetary home. By crippling it with massive blasts from space and removing every living Sprite from its surface, the Corporation believed they had killed the planet they so arrogantly re-named Erewhon-3. They were wrong. The planet had cloaked itself and gone dormant to gain the needed time to heal its extensive wounds. Though the initial emotional shock of the separation from their home did enormous damage to the Sprites, as they healed and the planet recovered, they could feel the faint, shielded thoughts of their parent planet. Unfortunately, by the time the majority of her sisters had recovered enough to think and reason lucidly, they had been sold into slavery on worlds scattered throughout the three Galaxies controlled by the vast, inimical company run by the most unfeeling, ferocious Beings ever to walk on two legs: the Humans from the destroyed planet, Earth. Though scattered and enslaved, Willa knew all her sisters were working toward the same goal as she. Never would they cease searching for each other and their home. Stepping back into her quarters she paused, looking down on the slumbering male. He was beautiful. Long, leanly muscled and lengthy where it counted. No one had ever given her a tenth of the pleasure she’d received from his talented hands and mouth. His Tygyr’s tongue, with its rough, abrasive texture, rasped so wondrously against her sensitive flesh, imparting a thrilling mix of pain and pleasure that she found irresistible. Sighing, loath to awaken him, yet hungry for his extreme brand of sexual intercourse, she slipped into his arms, felt them wrap around her possessively. Pillowing her head on his muscled forearm, she relaxed against him, snuggling into his solid warmth and furred comfort. Patiently waiting for him to regain consciousness, she lightly stroked her hands up and down his hard contours. When the time came to leave him, she would feel sorrow and, she hoped, nothing else. It wouldn’t do to fall in love with a male she could never keep. Their paths ran in different directions. Much as she loved his ability to feed her need for orgasms, he could not be her permanent enjoyment.
Chapter Seven
What the farding shellrocks was that? Brant choked on his hot bean beverage, spewing the remainder across the flashing section of his control panel. Someone had just jettisoned a null-shielded bio-parcel into Wave-space. Heart sinking, he knew the culprit could be none other than Willa for he had known Bevel too long to harbor doubts about his loyalty. She had just proven his suspicions true. She was spying for that Corporation bastard, Avron. His gut clenched and he fought back a roar of pain at the clear evidence of her treachery. How could he bring himself to kill her? How could he not? She endangered his mission and the lives of all his people. She was a threat planted in his very lair… She is the most glorious fuck I have ever sunk balls-deep in. Her mind is as funny and bright as a holovid and her laughter lightens my heart. She will never bore me… It is her life or our mission. At least I can make it quick and painless for her… No. Wait. She enjoys pain. I need to fuck her again. I haven’t fucked her nearly enough. She will get us all killed if I let her live. Her cunt is not worth seeing my sister’s throat cut. Is it? Both hands closed into tight fists. Damn it! Swiping away the moisture trying to cloud his vision, he slung his chair away from the console and rose. Tugging down his tunic, he walked toward the portal separating the ready room from the rest of the bridge, his steps slow and reluctant. Pausing in front of the door, he swayed unsteadily. He’d done many hard, harsh things in his life, but contemplating this… Brant shook his head, tears running freely down his face. Best get it over with… *** “We need to talk, Sexengineer.”
Willa glanced up from the hydro-flux capacitor console to meet the hooded gaze of the captain. Her welcoming smile slowly dissipating as she noticed the stern cast of his handsome features. “Yes, Sir. Give me a moment to stabilize this flow. I’ll be with you in a nanosec…” “In my ready room, crew, when you are done. We’ll have our discussion there.” “Aye, aye, Captain.” What the hurdles is going on? Just three hours ago, they had both awakened hungry and sated those hungers with the most intense bout of fucking she had ever been subjected to. Intimate parts of her still twanged and twitched from the heavy pounding his cock had laid down in her tight channels, both fore and aft. She knew he’d finally staggered away a happy Tygyr, purring his contentment loudly enough to vibrate the deck plates. Now, less than an hour later, here he was, confronting her as if she had done something illegal. “Captain ssounds sseriouss, little Ssprite…” “Shut up, Bevel and give me some tongue,” Willa ordered, tossing her tools back into her carry-all before crossing over to his station. Hopping up on his console, she flipped up her skimpy skirt and spread her legs, parting her nest-fronds and revealing her lilac and fuchsia tinted pussy. “Since the captain has graciously decreed we can do oral on each other whenever he is otherwise occupied, I might as well get a little taste right now before he reams my ass out for whatever wrong he thinks I’ve done.” “Naughty little Ssprite! Have you been up to ssomething ssalacious? Sshall I sspank that pretty pusssy for you?” A laugh erupted from her. Leaning back and widening her thighs, she shook her head. “No, but I loved that spanking, you brat. If you hadn’t whispered that my master was monitoring you and that you only pretended to be a slaver, I’d have blown that interview by allowing him to see how much I enjoyed the pain. Up ‘til then, I had always led him to believe pain caused me distress. If he’d known how much I reveled in it, he would have gone beyond my normal tolerances more often than he did.” Willa cupped the Jenari’s head between her palms, bringing his face up toward hers. She dropped a thankful kiss on his cheek and smoothed her hands down his jaw. “That is my delayed ‘thank you’ for helping me to escape. Oh, and I just jettisoned that locator button when we translated. Thank you for helping me dig that sucker out. I couldn’t reach it by myself.” “If the captain noted the emission trail on hiss conssole, that’ss probably what he wantss to talk with you about. He wouldn’t miss ssomething like that, and I haven’t had time to bring him up to date. You two have fucked all the time away.” She laughed. “Yeah, time well spent. But you’re wasting our time, now…” She wiggled her open thighs, directing his attention to her area of dripping need. “Greedy wench!” Bevel gave his signature laugh as he bent his head and attacked her pussy, digging right in with his tentacled tongue, his long, tensile fingers flexing in her cunt and inching into her tiny rectum. Her head fell back and she pushed her hips up, silently begging for more of his tongue. The writhing cilia coating his appendage felt indescribable in her hot, wet sheath, each electrically-charged tentacle
individually stroking and brushing her sensitive inner chamber. The alien gave the best “head” she’d ever gotten. Hands clenching in the writhing strands of the Jenari’s hair, Willa moaned, belly rippling as she rode his many-fingered tongue, drawing closer to an exploding orgasm. “Bevel, get your damned tongue out of my engineer’s cunt!” Yanked abruptly from her euphoric state, Willa jerked into an upright position, eyes wide and staring at the outraged figure standing arms akimbo in the open doorway. “When I give a command, I expect it to be obeyed, Sprite.” Brant stalked over to his two crewmembers and snatched Willa away from Bevel’s still rooting tongue. “I told you to report to the ready room, and I didn’t mean after you had your hungry little pussy cleaned out by this rapacious Jenari.” “I was coming…” “Yeah, I saw that,” Brant sneered, calmly removing her shipboard uniform blouse from her, exposing her light purple nipples. Willa grinned. “I didn’t mean it that way, Sir. I meant I was coming to the ready room as soon as Bevel finished…” Brant nodded and continued, intent on stripping her out of her skirt. “See, my problem with the scenario I walked in on is this: I gave you an order, which you chose to disobey. That demands a punishment.” Willa’s eyes lit up. Licking her lips, she shimmied, helping him remove the recalcitrant garment. “Punishment?” “Oh, yes. But first I want to check something…” Brant turned her so her back faced his chest and smoothed one broad palm over her left shoulder. The bump left from the removal of the tracking device tingled as his finger pressed against it. “Why didn’t you tell me you had removed a bio-track locator from your skin?” She shrugged. “You didn’t ask. I figured Bevel would tell you. Besides, I have been…occupied with other concerns since you came aboard.” “I told you I never got the time…” Bevel protested from over at his console, having scrambled out of the way when the captain had released him. “Foolish Sprite, I suspected you were a Corporation spy from the first. I noted that unauthorized dump when we translated to Wave-space and I figured you had just proved me right. I ordered you to come to the ready room so I could… deal with the situation.” His hands trembled as they grasped her in a tight hold. “Damn it, Willa, you were in here getting your pussy eaten while I sweated poison over the thought of having to kill you. You cannot imagine the utter relief I felt when I stormed in here to hurry your ass up and overheard your conversation with Bevel.”
“Deal with…?” Her eyes narrowed. “Were you going to kill me, Brant?” The bleak look on his face answered her question and her stomach tightened into knots as she beat at his hands, putting distance between them. “You were. After the way we fucked, holding nothing back…you were going to just cold-bloodily snuff out my life…” Brant snatched her back into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her, combating her struggles. “No! Well, yes…but not before giving you a chance to explain. I didn’t want to do it, but if your story didn’t convince me, I would have had no other choice. More lives than ours depend on keeping this ship out of the hands of the Corporation. No matter how I feel about you, Willa, I would have had to do what is best for my people.” Quickly worn out from trying to fight her way out of his grasp, Willa leaned her head into the firm wall of his chest and let her tears flow. “I hate the Corporation. I was their slave, not their spy. I realized Lord Avron wanted me placed here for his own nefarious connivance and I had his ‘eyes’ cut out of my flesh at the first opportunity.” “I know that, now, little Sprite.” Brant soothed her, cradling her against him. Setting her away from him so he could meet her eyes, he smiled, showing his sharp incisors. “You don’t know how happy the knowledge of your hatred of them makes me. There is nothing hindering me from being able to keep you at my side. Will you stay here with us aboard the Quiet Kitty, help us bring down the Corporation?” Willa pulled further away, smile fading. What he suggested was all fine and dandy, but she still had other plans that didn’t necessarily star the Corporation as the main feature at this time. Oh, she fully hoped Sparkle would be able to assist in the takedown of that haughty corporate shark, but for right now, her focus needed to be on finding her sisters and reviving her world. “I cannot promise to stay with you. There is something I must do, other things I need to tell you…” “Tell me later,” Brant said, quickly positioning his cock at the entrance to her small, hot silky-wet sex. “Right now, I need to hold you, to fuck you until it really sinks in that I don’t have to separate my duty from my enjoyment of your delectable charms.” Mewling, she felt the tight stretch of her intimate muscles as he surged without warning or preamble into the clenching depths of her liquid channel. “Bevel, get over here and celebrate with us…slide that tongue into Willa’s little pucker, will you?” She heard him issue the invitation with a nasty thrill of lust. The thought of the electric tingles given off by the Jenari’s tongue sparking in her ass made her tighten on Brant’s shuttling cock, her mouth opening in an ‘O’ of pleasured delight. “Oh, please, bite my nipples, Brant. Bite my nipples hard!” Roaring with greed, the Sh’Bahkyr obeyed, scoring the plump mounds of her breasts before sinking his fangs into her straining flesh, worrying at the taut tips as his pounding hips slammed his cock deep in her welcoming cunt. Completely filled in both ends, stuffed with cock and tongue and teeth, Willa threw back her head and
screamed her joy to the ceiling. Willa smiled… She could see being the Sexengineer to the Quiet Kitty Waveship and crew was going to require working long hours at an intensely challenging job, but hey, somebody had to do it…
Stay Tuned for a preview of the next episode of… Tales of the Quiet Kitty: Secret Sprites
Two Months Later Her sexual appetite never ceased to amaze him. Brant leaned against the Bridge command console; his freed cock buried in the depths of his Sprite’s hot little mouth. Hands clenched in the light feathery mass growing out her skull, he directed her motions, feeding her more and more of his tumescent shaft. “Yes, Willa, like that…suck me deep, darling.” He, Bevel and Willa were indulging in play while the ship ran on autopilot, standing out two days from Wistarlandia-2, a planet in the Sauris Galaxy. The colonists of Wistarlandia-2 had to import cane sugar since their soil would not support the growing of the alien delicacy. The Corporation charged enormously for the service, so the Quiet Kitty smuggled in cargoes of sugar for half the price, and made a tidy profit. They made twice as much profit from the krasn fruit they took in payment and sold to the Landresid of Plador, a people who loved and craved the exotic fruit so much it was almost worth its weight in old earth gold. Since Earth was no more, the value of gold just kept going up. Last ship-month, rumor had come to their ears of a Sprite held captive on one of the inner worlds of Nashiri, only a few light years away from Wistarlandia-2. They would detour there to see it the rumors were true. If they were, the Quiet Kitty would pull away with one more crew than it had arrived with… Groaning in rising ecstasy, Brant glanced down to where the Jenari’s tongue plunged in and out of Willa’s glistening cunt, his balls tightening at the sexy sight. “Lick her pussy, Bevel. Ream that little channel out. Now, lap her clit, but don’t allow her to come.”
Willa moaned in protest, her small lips vibrating against his shuttling flesh and he grinned, slowly sliding his length out of her mouth and signaling Bevel to stop his actions, also. At his feet, Willa knelt, her mouth still open, looking like a baby bird, begging for food. “I heard that protest, you naughty Sprite. Go and get my belt and come right back. If you dawdle, we won’t fuck you again until the krasn fruit is loaded.” Her eyes widened in true fear at his threat and she leaped up, her iridescent violet, maroon and fuchsia wings fluttering as she flitted out the open door and zipped down the corridor, her tiny feet dangling three feet from the ground. Brant laughed. She should know by now he would never set out to starve his little bedmate. She had finally gained enough trust to open up to both of them, revealing the nutritional needs of her peculiar genetic make-up. She had told them Sprites required the ingestion of life-carrying sperm and the psychic absorption of the emanations given off during orgasm to flourish. Since learning that, he and Bevel had kept her well fed with orgasms and sperm, both of them feeling as excited as Willa did over the rapid re-growth of her body feathers. The first time her wings had unfurled, they had held a two-day fuck-fest, trying out all the positions she could hold, utilizing all the ways they could make love to her while she hovered in flight. Now, he tracked her fast retreat down the corridor, watching her tail feathers flutter in her wake, revealing the well-turned globes of her trim ass. Biting his lip to hold back an indulgent chuckle, Brant crossed his arms and exchanged a meaningful glance with Bevel-leveB before turning and visually following his lover’s progress. Brant fisted his cock, running his thumb over the seeping head while he thought of how he would reap the benefits of her satisfaction. By the time they finished taking turns spanking and whipping her, making sure she had a few strong orgasms, she’d be ready to slurp on leveB until it ejaculated. Then Brant would take her, slide the stiff, hard length of his cock into her tiny ass, and give her the rough, turbulent fucking they both needed. The Captain smiled. She did so love her punishments and a captain’s duty was to see to the happiness of his crew…
Tales of the Quiet Kitty 1: Under the Cat’s Paw is dedicated to Joyce, my sister, to honor her steady commitment to give me the time to exercise my artistic muse.
Camille Anthony
A California native, Camille now lives in the beautifully wild Low Country of South Carolina. A fertile imagination and a love of Romance fuels her writing, which she has been doing since grade school. Her favorite stories are those of strong, honorable people -- whatever the race, or planet of origin -- who are driven by love and lust to find and hold that one special someone. Camille likes her heroines feisty, her heroes dominant and her passion red hot! She loves to hear from her readers. You can email her at
[email protected]. Your comments and suggestions are appreciated.