Chapter 1-1

2014 Words
Rachel Pierce, Interstellar Brides Program Processing Center Rachel Pierce, Interstellar Brides Program Processing Center “You can’t escape us.” A rough male voice whispered in my ear. The room was dark, nearly black, and I could not see his face, but his tone excited me. I should have been afraid, terrified, and yet my body arched off the bed at his words, eager. Wet. Throbbing with need. I tugged at the bonds about my wrists, the unbreakable cuffs secured over my head. The fit was snug, but not painful. They ensured that I was well and truly captured, yet unharmed. There was no give in the restraints, but the soft yield of the bed under my back was soothing. So were the calloused hands that ran over my heated skin, that cupped my upturned breasts, the insides of my spread thighs, my bare mound. “Our little prisoner.” I stilled at the voice. The second voice. There wasn’t just one man in bed with me, but two. Two sets of hands. second“Ah!” I cried, when little erotic bites elicited a fiery burst of pain at the tips of my n*****s. Two mouths. I couldn’t see their faces, but I could feel their hands, hear their ragged breathing, feel their heat, smell their dark, spicy scents. “I want to touch you,” I replied, l*****g my dry lips. I tugged once again on the binds, but they were unforgiving. I didn’t need to see them to know they were big, so much bigger than me. Their hands were large, spanning the breadth of my belly, dwarfing my breasts, which were far from small, gripping my knees and holding them apart so that my n***d body was open to their every urge, every desire. I should feel panicked, for while I didn’t seem to know these men, I knew them, felt safe with them. Safe enough to be tied up and at their sweet mercy. shouldknew I’d never been into b*****e play or any kind of b**m before. Not even a little kink tossed into a wild night. My s****l experiences ranged between high school fumbling and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kinds of encounters. This, this was something else entirely…and I liked it. I liked the heavy weight of the cuffs about my wrists. I liked the way there was no give in the rope. I liked the way the men were touching me, arousing me to a fervor I’d never known before. And they were only touching. When a hand dipped between my thighs, I arched my back, pushing my hips into the touch. “She’s dripping. You like to give over control.” I didn’t know that to be the case before, but with these two, now, I did. Hell, yeah. I moaned at the feel of his fingers stroking over my folds, circling my c**t, pulling back its protective hood for…oh f**k. His hot breath. When his mouth closed over my c**t, I cried out, tugged involuntarily. Hands on my thighs held me open, exposed, available. I couldn’t do a thing but take whatever they wanted to do to me. To give to me. “You’ll come first, then we’ll f**k you.” I had no problem with that whatsoever. “Yes,” I replied on a breathy moan to the man who was l*****g my p***y. The other was working my n*****s with his mouth, alternating between them. I felt the rasp of a trimmed beard, the soft hairs tickling my tender skin and awakening every one of my nerve endings. “You can feel it, can’t you? Our need, your need, building and building. The collars join us, link and share our pleasure.” I felt the weight of something about my neck, felt the eager intensity of the men’s desires, their domination, my submission, swirling around us like a vibrant, red aura. I was hotter, wetter, more eager than ever in my life. I was going to come. There was no way I could stop it, for while I was bound by rope and cuffs, I was ensnared by their attentions. My p***y ached, swelled, pulsed. My c**t throbbed. My n*****s stung. “Yes, I’m going to… I need, right there…just a little—no!” The men knew I was going to come and not just from my mindless rambling or the way my body shook. It was the damn collars. They knew one more flick of a tongue against my engorged c**t, one more decadent bite on my n****e and I would have succumbed to the most powerful o****m. Instead, I was sweaty and needy, tears slipping from my eyes, desperate for them. My body was almost electrified with need. Just a touch in the right place and I’d go off. The man by my head moved to lie down beside me, his hot length pressing against my side. Hands gripped my waist and flipped me over on top of him, my arms still up over my head, over his as well. If I leaned down a few inches, surely I would kiss him. Shifting my legs into a comfortable position, I straddled him. My breasts chafed against the soft hairs on his chest. My slick skin slid easily over him. My p***y coated his c**k, which I rested upon, the girth of it parting my folds. Our breaths mingled and yet I still couldn’t see him. “Please,” I begged, wiggling my hips to get his c**k at my entrance, so I could get him deep inside me. I needed him deep inside me. I had never thought it before, and if that made me a total s**t, I didn’t care, but I needed c**k. needed A hand came down on my upturned bottom, the sting of it a surprise. While it hurt, it morphed into even more pleasure and I gasped, then groaned. “We say how,” the man behind me said. “We say when,” the one beneath me finished. A palm cupped my stinging bottom, pulled my cheeks apart. A hard finger, slick and coated with something cool slid over me there, finding my back entrance, circling, then pushing in. The sharp bite of the stretch had me panting, stilling. The finger worked the lube into me, more, then more still. “Are you ready for our c***s, mate? To be ours forever?” The man behind me spoke as he gently yet thoroughly prepared my a*s for…oh god. Our c***s. Forever. Our c***s. Forever.Yes. I was ready. More than ready. Time didn’t exist, only the feel of his finger as he worked me, stretched me open, the feel of the hard, muscled body beneath me. Hands stroked my back, my sides, my hair. “She’s ready.” I’d been ready for a while but didn’t mention it, afraid I’d get s*****d again. They were in control, so I bit my lip. I felt them move, heard the rustling of their actions as I was lifted up so that the c**k beneath me nudged my p***y. Yes! I wiggled, trying to lower, but he would have none of it. I realized when I felt the other’s c**k at my prepared back passage that they were going to take me together. Yes! Really together. Not one after the other. Not one in my p***y, the other c**k in my mouth. Together, as in double penetration. Really As I panicked, a sense of eagerness, of extreme arousal washed over me. I felt the men’s desires mingle with my own through the collar and it tempered my panic and soothed it with mindless need. “Please,” I begged, feeling their c***s pressing. The one at my p***y slid in easily, the wet sound of my arousal as loud as our breaths. In a smooth stroke, he sank deep, filling me. He groaned. I groaned. God, he was big. Thick. Hard. So f*****g deep. “I’m going to come.” I was. They’d primed me so well that I was shaking with it. “Not yet. As soon as you are ours, when you take both our c***s we will be truly joined. Only then will you be collared, mated, claimed.” The man behind me spoke in my ear as he pressed inward, the broad head of his c**k slowly opening me. My body held barely any resistance to his efforts. Perhaps it was the lube or his intent, but I truly believed it was the collars that connected us, that made me relax, to breathe out, to give over. They’d wanted me to submit and this act was the ultimate submission. I could do nothing but take whatever they wanted. When they wanted. How. It was that knowledge more than the second c**k sinking into me that had me coming on a blissful scream. I was so full, so open. Exposed. Vulnerable and yet powerful all at once. It was too much, the pleasure. I was truly imprisoned, caught not only by the bonds over my head, but the c***s that joined us. We were one. When I felt their hot seed spurt from them, I screamed again, then again. “Miss Pierce!” The voice repeated itself and a hand shook my shoulder. “Stop screaming, please.” I was thrashing, felt the way my hands were bound, knew it was real. “Rachel!” No, it wasn’t real. The voice shouting at me was a woman, not the deep rumble of either man. I blinked, once, then again. Bright light filtered through the seams of my closed eyelids, turning my vision a deep, dark red until, unable to deny the annoying woman’s voice, or the too small hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes. Fuck. There were no men. No hands, mouths, c***s. There had definitely been an o****m though. I was sweaty and I could feel the heat of it, the pleasure still coursing through my body. My p***y rippled and pulsed around…nothing. My bottom clenched. Empty. The wet result of my arousal made my bottom slip and slide on a strange exam chair. It was like I’d been tied down, n***d, at the dentist’s office. definitely My hands were bound, but not by the men’s cuffs and I wasn’t in a soft bed. No. I was restrained to the testing chair in the Interstellar Brides Processing Center. The men were nothing more than a dream, a figment of my s*x-starved imagination. I hadn’t been with a man in a long damn time. Over a year. Apparently, my body had gone from zero to o****m in about five seconds flat. But it had been so good, so hot and hard and… “Miss Pierce. I need you to look at me.” There was that annoying female voice practically barking orders at me. I didn’t care for her tone. Not one bit. I focused on the face swimming before me and waited for my vision to clear. When it did, I found a somewhat unpleasant young woman’s face looming over me. I remembered her now. Unfortunately, I remembered everything. “Warden Egara.” “Good. You’re awake.” “You wanted me tested and now you’re taking the dream away from me?” It had been a dream. Since when had reality included two hot, virile lovers who f****d me at the same time? When had I ever had an o****m that strong? That intense? When had I ever been so desperate to be touched that just thinking about it had nearly made me scream? Never. Smoking-hot, dominant lovers were not part of my reality. My reality included prison. Harsh lighting. Bad food. Stale air. Several hundred women who looked at me like I was fresh meat. Loneliness. Betrayal. “Yes, Miss Pierce. I’m terribly sorry. I don’t normally stop the testing so abruptly, but I have to admit, I was a little nervous about your screaming.” I couldn’t help but flush. “Let’s just say the dream was very… vivid.”
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