Kinky Space Vixen (2 page)

Afterwards they
lay together, she curled up in his arms, lazily running her finger
up and down his freshly whipped chest. “Just think,” she whispered.
“This time in two months we’ll have a Class Two Freighter of our
own.”
“That’s if the orestone pays out as it should,” replied Joe warily.
“I wasn’t sure about the guy who sold it to us. I wasn’t sure about
him at all.”
“It’ll be fine,” said Aevie dismissively. “The guy was just a
little rough around the edges; that was all. And besides, the
orestone seemed perfectly alright to me.”
“We’re hardly experts,” muttered Joe.
“You worry too much,” laughed Aevie.
“I have reason to worry,” replied Joe. “Dildone isn’t the sort of
place where you want to be making any mistakes.”
“Hush,” said Aevie gently. “Don’t make me start your whipping all
over again, Joe. Now I’m going to tell you for the last time:
everything is going to be fine. We’re going to get to Dildone and
well have the money and be gone within the hour, then afterwards
you’ll be a fully-fledged pilot because you’re going to ace your
exams and that is all there is to it. Now kiss me.”

The planet of Dildone was basically just a single vast desert
with the odd oasis scattered around from which the cities had
sprung up. Most of the population lived in the capital city of
Aralia which was situated in the northern hemisphere. The planet
had been colonised one thousand years ago by the exiled tribes of
Greyridge and the capital city was surrounded by thick,
impenetrable stone walls which shielded it from the sun, and from
the darker elements without. The city comprised some two million
people and what was more remarkable was that it consisted, more or
less of one single, sprawling edifice; a labyrinth of courtyards,
walls, gardens, tunnels, passages, alleyways, streets, orchards,
rooms, houses and manors all tacked on to a massive central palace
which rose above it all, its turrets gleaming in the sweltering
desert sun and its fountains brining a cool relief to the
unrelenting heat. Only the southern part of the city was free from
the edifice, where an underground spring broke forth from the
ground and flowed along the earth, turning dead desert to fertile
meadow, which the human inhabitants had in turn transformed into
crops and pasture land.

Around the capital city there was nothing; nothing but orange
desert and sprawling sands and rocks. Or so it seemed. For there
were caves too, in which dwelt Dark Animals and mysterious beasts,
and tiny patches of scrubland where primitive tribes eeked out a
living amidst the harsh wilderness. If one were to travel mile upon
mile upon mile, across the desert, along one of those four Great
Roads which sprawled out of Aralia like tentacles, one would find
other, smaller kingdoms - Blackcavern, for example - also known as
the Kingdom of Rocks to the west; to the north there was Portlivery
- also known as the Kingdom by the Sea, to the East Snowmountain -
also known as the Cold lands. All these kingdoms, and others too -
were vassals of Aralia - had been conquered by that city during the
Great war of the Continents some three decades ago.

At the same moment as Aevie and Joe were enjoying their
passionate embrace upon their freight ship a great festival was
taking place across the entire planet, at which representatives of
the vassal kingdoms were required to make their annual arduous
journey across the desert in order to pay fealty to the Emperor in
the Great Central Palace.
The tapestries depicting the great battles of the Wars of the
Continents dominated all four walls of the massive central chamber
whilst the four great bronze statues representing the four pillars
upon which the Dildonian state rested - strength, resilience,
wisdom and courage - dominated all four corners in their turn. The
state's officials and the generals and the major civil servants and
the bureaucrats - decked out in their best robes of state, thronged
around the room on the specially built terraces whilst at the head
of the room on a massive, ornately carved golden throne, was seated
the Emperor himself. He was dressed, as was the custom of this day,
in the golden plate breast armour and gilt silver helmet
accompanied by a long flowing red tunic which wrapped its way over
his neck and down his back and over his legs and groin area - the
Imperial military dress, which had been worn into battle by every
single Emperor of Dildone who had ever found cause to go to war,
which was the vast majority. However the extended period of peace,
an unusual event in the history of Dildone, meant that the Emperor
was one of the few of his long dynasty not to have bloodied his
hands, at least in battle.

The Emperor was thirty-two years old and had reigned supreme
over the planet for coming up to eleven years now. In earlier years
the Emperor had been a keen sportsman and hunter and had kept a
trim, muscular figure, but a fall from his horse during one
particular hunt seven years ago had bruised his spine and it had
never been the same since. Subsequently his muscles had turned to
flab and though he was by no means morbidly obese, and though he
did try to remain active and undertake a little exercise each day
there was no denying his figure had become rounded and less
attractive. Still, his dark and swarthy looks were still forbidding
and his long, pointed nose and jutting chin remained unmistakably
regal.

Stood next to the Emperor beside his throne, standing so still
as to seem almost frozen in space and time, was the Emperor’s head
of the armed forces, Gabor Behmothbone. A soldier since the age of
twelve Gabor had fought in the Great War of the Continents as a
young man and his exploits were legendary, as were the scars on his
face. Although Dildone had been at peace for a long time now, Gabor
had never forgotten his soldiers bearing, and knew that times could
easily become volatile. He was the Emperor's closest adviser, and
also his most trusted friend.

Leading away from the throne, all the way across the length of
the room and to the great double doors that led to the main steps
outside, was a resplendent purple carpet, woven of the finest
velvet, and it was along this carpet that the vassals of the
Dildone now stepped, to the fanfare of the buglers who formed an
arch over either side.

"Agronax Lightfinger - representative of the Kingdom of
Blackcavern!" Announced the Chief Minister, an elderly bald man
dressed head to toe in a long red robe. The representative
approached, his head bowed. "I, as a prince of the vassal state of
Blackcavern, bow down in tribute and submission to my most beloved
Emperor and master." The representative spoke softly and with the
appropriate reverence.
"Vassal Lightfinger," said the Emperor with
authority. "What tribute have you brought to myself and my court on
this, the day of commemoration of your Submission and our
triumph?"
"Imperial Highness," replied the representative.
"For the completion of your temples, and your buildings and your
drainage systems I present to you today three thousand slabs of
rock, hewn from the mountains around our kingdom, and for the
completion of the triumphal arch around the Western end of your
city as a symbol of your dominance over my people, I present to you
on behalf of my people the sum of fifteen slabs of the finest
marble." The Representative bowed even lower, so that his nose was
almost touching the floor.
"I see," said the Emperor. "And what is this I
have heard, Representative of the Vassal state of Blackcavern, of
the temple of the so called 'Divine Order' which was recently
established on the fringes of your civilisation and whose aims, I
am told, is to venerate and keep alive the memory of my old rival
and your former king, Gaius Greensnake - whom my father slew in
battle during the Great War of the Continents those many years
ago?"
"My... my master..." stammered the Representative,
looking up at the Emperor with frightened eyes. "It is true that a
temple was briefly established by certain unenlightened figures who
stubbornly refused to accept your mastery, but these people were
very few in number and were dealt with swiftly - and in the
bloodiest of manners in order to set an example."
"Silence!" exclaimed the Emperor with a sweep of
his hand, "I am not interested in excuses Agronax Lightfinger, so
called representative of Blackcavern. The fact of the matter is
there was an insurrection against me, and a rebellion no matter how
small is still a rebellion." The Emperor stood up and walked
towards the shaking Representative. "How is it," he demanded. "That
you came to be chosen as a representative of your people
sir?"
"I..." began the representative, sweat starting to
drip down his face, "I am the son of Gaius Greensmake, the defeated
king, your highness."
"Indeed?" replied the Emperor. "Well as I recall
your father was a proud and defiant man. However he was also a
foolish man, which is why you kneel before me here
today."
"Yes your Highness," said the representative
quietly, his nose pointed once more at the floor.
"You present me with your marble and stone slabs
and you kneel before me but I see you are still not subservient
enough, I must make you
 
even
more
 
subservient I see." With that the Emperor swept back his tunic
in a flourish to reveal his twelve inch naked cock, hard and erect
and dangling in front of the representative of Blackcavern. A gasp
rushed through those assembled in the room. "
Suck me
, representative of
Blackcavern," demanded the Emperor through gritted teeth. "Suck me,
son of Gaius Greensnake, fallen king of the vassal state, suck me
long and suck me good. The lives of your people depend on it. Or I
shall feed you to my dogs." He inclined his head towards an open
pit from which the sound of snarling could be heard. The
representative gasped in horror and he regarded the Emperor's cock
stretched out in front of him. 'I would die for my people, like my
father before me,' he thought to himself, 'so I suppose I should
have no problem taking a shot of spunk in the mouth for them.' He
reached out and took the Emperors massive cock in his hands and
opened his mouth as wide as he could - but it was still a tight
fit.
"Hear this people of Dildone, hear this Vassals of
Dildone," exclaimed the Emperor as he rocked back and forth in the
Representative’s mouth, "I am the Emperor not just of Dildone nor
of the vassal states but of the whole planet. Everybody - be they
human or animal or gust of breeze in the wind, must bow down to me,
there must be no exceptions and no defiance. Oh yes!" And with that
the Emperor’s whole body shuddered as he emptied a geyser of spunk
straight into the Representative’s mouth. The representative gagged
and choked and went red but the harsh look on the Emperor's face
told him it would not be prudent to spit it out so he swallowed it
down in one gulp with a superhuman effort. The Emperor removed
himself from the representative’s mouth and covered himself once
again with his tunic. "Your tribute is accepted, representative,"
he said quietly. "You may withdraw."
 

The rest of the Tribute ceremony was not nearly so dramatic.
Portlivery delivered its required quota of fish; Snowmountain
delivered more than enough wolf pelts, swords and axes to meet its
own tribute and the various other dukedoms, fiefdoms and villages
all paid up on time and to the desired amount. The Emperor started
to become bored and restless; he had no head for figures,
preferring to leave such matters to his Chief Minister. Indeed for
an Emperor he had few natural attributes; he was not warlike, he
was not administratively minded, he did not take an interest in his
subjects or in the architecture of his kingdom, nor in the other
lands over which he ruled, provided they paid tribute on time. The
Emperor’s ain distinguishing feature was that he was cruel, just as
his father had been and as his father before him had been. And
cruelty, it is said, can only be an attribute for a
tyrant.

The ceremony was almost finished when a young girl stepped up
to the carpet and started making her way towards the Imperial
throne. The Chief Minister announced "WandoriaTightsocket -
representative of the village of Fastriver!" The Emperor looked up
at Wandoria with new found interest. She was about nineteen years
old with the yellowest hair the Emperor had ever seen reaching
right down almost to her hips and also the largest, widest greenest
eyes he had ever seen. She was of slim, slight build with fulsome
legs and a tight ass, but her breasts were out of proportion to the
rest of her body so that they bulged forwards and seemed to be
constantly trying to escape from the thin piece of wolf's skin she
had tied around them. The only other thing she was dressed in was
another piece of wolfs skin which she had woven around her ass and
the top of her legs in order to protect her modesty. The Emperor
felt his cock starting to go hard as Wandoria knelt down before
him.
 
"So,
WandoriaTightsocket, representative of the people of Fastriver,"
said The Emperor as he gazed down upon her. "Last year I seem to
remember it was a wizened old man who knelt down and offered me
three thousand cobs from your fertile crops in tribute. Clearly
this year Fastriver felt the need for a different face - and a most
pleasurable one it is at that." He smiled. A ripple of polite
laughter rang out across the room. "So my girl, what have you
brought to offer me in tribute this year? More cobs I would hope,
for the ones your village delivered last year were most
succulent."
"Alas," began Wanderia, looking up at the Emperor
with her emerald eyes. "This year my village has fallen on hard
times. The winter was late in ending and in the spring the rains
came and caused the river to overflow so that most of our crops
were washed away. This year your highness we can only offer you
three hundred cobs as a tribute?"
"Three hundred cobs?" declared The Emperor
enraged, "three hundred measly fucking cobs? After the three
thousand you delivered the year before? Have you come to insult me
girl? Is this why they sent you? Because nobody else had the balls
to come and insult me to my face?"
"Sire please," said Wanderia, her voice humble yet
firm. "My father, who is the Duke of Fastriver, wishes to offer you
a compromise." Her cheeks flushed red and she looked down
nervously. "And to offer myself, his only daughter, as the tribute
in place of the cobs. To be your slave to do as you see
fit."
"Hmm," said The Emperor, stroking his chin as he
considered. "This is a most interesting proposition. Tell me girl,
are you thus far 'unschooled' in the ways of men?"
"If you mean am I still a virgin sire, the answer
is yes,” replied Wandoria. “Though it was once hoped I would marry
the son of a neighbouring dukedom my villages ill fortune has meant
I am now bound to come here, to offer myself as your unquestioning
whore."
"Very good, very good," mused The Emperor. "But
why, pray, does the good Duke think I should accept his offer of
compromise? After all, I have more than enough whores already. What
is to stop me from fucking his pert little daughter for all she's
worth then cutting off her sweet head and sending it back to him
with the promise of a phalanx of horseman on the next wind to cut
him and his poxy village to shreds?"
"Nothing sir," replied Wandoria meekly. "Nothing
except what my people hope will be your relenting
mercy."
"Hmm," said The Emperor. "Well I am thinking hard,
but my cock - I am
 
thinking
 
that is harder!" His subjects laughed uproariously at this
play on words and their laughter and adulation put The Emperor in a
good mood. "Very well," he said at last. "The compromise is
accepted. Tell the Duke of Fastriver that I shall keep his daughter
and he can keep his head - for now. But make sure you leave him in
no doubt, First Minister, that next year I shall expect a tithe of
six thousand of the finest cobs from Fastriver or I'll ride into
the shite-hole myself and nail his fucking testicles to his
drawbridge."
"Yes sire," replied the First Minister
hastily.