Taking Tilly (9 page)

And beyond that, there was
the useless factor, because if they
did
manage to overwhelm the men and
take control of the ship they still couldn’t fly it or navigate it
back to Earth—which made even attempting to win their freedom an
exercise in useless stupidity.

The only chance they had, and that was
a very big maybe, was to escape after they were sold, but even then
they had nowhere to run to.

As depressing as it was—as much as it
went against the grain to give up her freedom without a fight—Tilly
was beginning to accept that it wasn’t likely she could escape,
could ever go home again—or achieve the one thing that had gotten
her into the mess to begin with. She wasn’t going to find Emily and
get her home. She couldn’t even get herself home.

The commander surveyed the harem and
made the choice—Marcia—the bitch that was constantly making snide
comments to her.

A suspicious lump rose in Tilly’s
throat. She swallowed against it with an effort and looked away
from the commander quickly, hoping no one had read her feelings in
her expression.

His second strode across the room,
signaled for her to follow and led her to the closest mound of
pillows.

As he had done with her, he commanded
the suit to arrange her and settled to eating her pussy out with a
vigor and enthusiasm that couldn’t be faked.

Tilly didn’t want to look, but she
couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from the live porno being played out
in front of her.

She’d never believed men actually
enjoyed giving head—getting it, absolutely, but not giving. When
they did it at all it seemed to her that most of their enthusiasm
was in getting through with it.

Except second seemed to really enjoy
it—to the tune of he didn’t care if the woman was enjoying it or
not.

The forlorn cries Marcia was making
made it clear that she wasn’t allowed to come—only to feel the
escalating sensations until she thought she would go up in flames
or lose her mind.

Tilly tried to ignore the heat rising
in her own belly as she recalled how it had felt when he’d done
that to her, but with indifferent success.

He sucked and licked and
bit at her fragile flesh until
Tilly
thought she was going to lose
her mind. Finally, panting for breath and showing every evidence
that he was about to come himself, he withdrew and stepped
back.

Tilly had expected that the woman
would be removed to another place while the others took their turn
at her.

She discovered she was wrong and that
discovery was crushing.

The commander took the second’s place.
Aligning his cocks with her body openings, he thrust into her and
continued to thrust until he’d expended himself. When he got up,
his second took his place, speared into her and pounded into her
punishingly until he, too, expended himself.

The other three men took their turns
after them, apparently in ranking order, but Tilly had withdrawn
into her own world as soon as the commander drove his cock into
Marcia.

Tilly thought, even if she hadn’t
hated the woman before she would’ve hated her after
that.

Which only showed how screwed up her
head was because Marcia hadn’t enticed them, hadn’t offered and
couldn’t even fight them off if she’d wanted to.

She should be furious with the
commander.

And the second if it came to
that!

Her sense of possessiveness finally
cleared her mind somewhat.

Neither of them belonged to her—none
of them.

Maybe this was the new lesson? They
were slaves, toys, and they belonged to their masters, not the
other way around.

She had
known
that it was likely
that everyone else was getting exactly the same ‘training’ that she
was.

She was a complete and utter fool to
feel hurt—jealous! She should feel sorry for the woman!

When the last man had fucked Marcia
until he came, he staggered off to rest while the others took a
second shot at her.

Tilly had followed the other women to
one side of the lounge and settled there on the pillows when it had
been borne in upon them that this was a different kind of lesson—a
show, she supposed, to convince them they were slaves and their
feelings meant nothing to the men.

And if she assumed that to be the
case, then pretty much all of them were feeling much the same as
she was right now.

The mysterious knot rose in her throat
again.

She’d thought she was too smart to
fall for their mental manipulations, and yet she had—so easily it
was downright sickening. She recalled almost nothing about the
night the commander had taken her to his room—due, she thought, to
whatever he’d given her—but she’d remembered enough to feel
special.

Even though she’d woken in her own
cell, she’d convinced herself that that was special, too. He’d
carried her in his arms.

Very likely he’d simply
commanded the nanos to return her and she’d been too out of it to
recall—might not even have woken up at all. That thought
had
occurred to her, but
she’d dismissed it because she was always completely aware when the
suit was moving her around like a puppet and she’d managed to
convince herself she
had
to be awake for the nanos to do that.

Stupid!

When the men finally left, she spent
hours berating herself for her stupidity and trying not to hate
Marcia for being the focus of their attention when she knew,
whether the woman had wanted it or not, it hadn’t been a
choice.

The others didn’t seem
similarly inclined. Their remarks and behavior proved that Tilly
was right—they were all hurt and jealous. Even pointing that out to
them did no good. They were so nasty to Marcia that Tilly could
almost feel sorry for the bitch. She thought she would’ve
except
stupid
thought she was special because they’d chosen her over all
the others and preened about it.

The next day the men marched down the
corridor and into the lounge and chose another woman and they all
got to watch her get fucked half to death.

She supposed there was a lesson in
that. They were there for the pleasure of the men, period. And they
would be used to the full extent of their desires even if it meant
the women were half dead when they got done—because half dead
didn’t count. The men wanted to thoroughly expend themselves and
once wasn’t enough. They had to have at least two shots at the
pussy and there were five of the bastards, soooo ….

By the time roughly half a dozen of
the women had received the same treatment, they ‘got’ it. They
stopped picking on whichever woman was chosen because none of them
felt special anymore. There was no reason to be jealous. They knew
they were going to be chosen.

The hell of it was that
although none of them had been used to being fucked raw before they
were captured, they
became
used to it, and it was a new form of torture when
they were completely ignored.

At least it was to Tilly.

She hadn’t even known it was possible
to crave being gang banged—whether she was allowed to come or
not—meaning the climax, apparently, had little to do with the
craving.

She had an uncomfortable suspicion
that at least part of the craving was a twisted sense of affection
she developed for her captives and the belief that she was
receiving affection of some kind from them.

And maybe that was some sort of
survival/defense mechanism?

She supposed it was a good thing, for
her, that she was the last chosen in the new lesson. She’d had
plenty of time to have it rubbed in her face that she meant
absolutely nothing to any of them beyond a paycheck at the end of
the road and an object to slake their lust on in the mean
time.

Otherwise, she might have done or said
something stupid.

On the sixth day, she discovered she
was the chosen. Dismay, not joy or anticipation, was uppermost in
her heart and mind when the second approached her and commanded her
to present herself.

The commander was always first except
when the second wanted oral sex—which he had only performed on the
first to star in their week long fuck-a-thon porn.

Bracing herself the best she could as
the nano-suit carried her to the pillows and arranged her, she
closed her eyes since the damned thing wasn’t accommodating enough
to mask her and at least give her the sense that she was alone
rather than on display.

She tried to convince herself none of
the others would watch anyway.

Well, not the women. The men always
watched. She supposed it was part of their enjoyment—watching and
planning what they would do when it was their turn.

There was another aspect that dismayed
her that she didn’t discover until she was displayed.

She hadn’t been touched in well over a
week and her flesh had apparently forgotten what it was like to be
stretched to its limits.

Her thighs and tendons protested when
they were stretched so wide they felt like they would come
unhinged. And, due at least partly to nerves, her natural juices
had dried so that it burned uncomfortably when the suit peeled the
outer lips of her sex back and then spread the mouth of her sex as
wide as it could.

She discovered she hadn’t braced
herself nearly well enough.

And he was still angry with
her—possibly because he’d been notably absent for quite a while
after he’d fist fucked her.

She was guessing he’d spent time in a
cell and he was really, really pissed off about it.

There was nothing pleasurable about
the way he tore at her flesh—using the sharp edge of his teeth far
more than the suction of his mouth. It was shear torture and she
thought she might have screamed if the nanos had allowed
it.

They closed her in abruptly, however,
a split second before she felt the first hurtful nip of his teeth.
He continued to gnaw at her tender flesh until she began to see it
in her mind’s eye as a shredded bleeding mess, and then abruptly
switched tactics, lathing with his tongue and sucking at her. It
seemed the pain of before intensified the pleasure. Her heart
almost seemed to stop as her body surged upward toward release—and
hit a wall.

She blacked out but it was woefully
brief—and actually added to her misery because it gave her just
enough respite to hit bottom and start up again. This time when her
body surged upward toward relief, however, he removed the
restraints. The climax that hit her was so hard she screamed and
kept screaming because he refused to stop as long as her body
convulsed and it couldn’t stop with him pulling at her
clit.

It stopped when she blacked out—he
stopped.

She was struggling for breath when the
commander aligned his cocks and thrust into her, ignoring the
painful resistance of her still spasming flesh. She felt as if he’d
torn his way into her, shredded her channel as his second had
shredded her clit and outer lips.

And the worst was yet to come, because
his pounding rhythm caught her before she could hit bottom and
carried her upward to a climax that was even harder than the one
she’d had with his second.

She was hoarse and weeping by the time
he came.

She didn’t know if it was better or
worse that she’d screamed herself hoarse by the time his second
impaled her and pounded into her until she climaxed
again.

She was nearly senseless by the time
the third man began to fuck her and totally oblivious long before
they began round two.

Well, not totally
oblivious.

Unfortunately, she could still feel
and her body was still responding, weakly, to the pounding thrusts
against her g-spot. She’d, thankfully, passed beyond being able to
come hard—or to scream. Her body still wracked her with
convulsions, but they were far milder.

And she was still relieved when they
finished with her and left.

She didn’t try to get up to save face
when they left her. She allowed exhaustion to overtake her and
carry her off to know-nothing land.

Chapter Eleven

Except for certain, unexplainable,
circumstances, many of the women had almost become convinced that
they were being duped with some weird, elaborate hoax by the time
they arrived at their destination.

That ‘rumor’ arose weeks into
captivity when the women had gone through despair, terror, a false
sense of worth—meaning some or maybe all of them had stupidly
convinced themselves that they were girlfriends—and then ugly
enlightenment.

After the final lesson in
‘you are a toy/ a slave and nothing more’, they settled into a
routine of sorts. There
were
no favorites.

Women were chosen at random. The men
came together, picked one woman or sometimes two or three and took
them off to do whatever they wanted to them. Apparently, as long as
they didn’t cause any permanent damage it didn’t matter what they
did, and maybe it was actually encouraged that they do their worst
so that the women completely understood their situation.