Page 65 of Bred

Lyra

Between Luca and Shank, I lose my mind, but I do not miss it in the slightest. Their flesh makes me a creature of pure feeling and desire. Talon is standing nearby, his armor gone, his two cocks pulsing in his fists as he watches and waits. My hunger for these males is beyond any desire I ever knew on Earth. This is a place of freedom, where instinct reigns supreme and where my body makes the rules.

Shank holds me up, two arms under my hips, another two hands spreading my cheeks as he toys with my cunt, that thick cock of his penetrating me in an endless number of ways in a single stroke. My face is right next to the base of Luca’s cock, my eyes drifting up the hard muscled planes of his body, and off to the side, already satisfied with my fragile human form, is the male who owns me. Shank and Luca have me by Talon’s leave alone. He must enjoy watching me writhe between them, my body arching and contorting in the slow dance of female desire, just as woman have undulated for thousands of years.

Pulling free, Shank uses his cock to stimulate my clit directly, rubbing my juices around the tight little bud of my clit, making my toes curl and my breath come in short pants of pure need.

Six hands are on me, three pairs of eyes, three hearts, souls, minds, all conspiring to make me their own. As Shank’s cock teases my pussy, alternating between toying with my clit, rubbing my juices into that wet nub, and pushing into my pussy, gliding deep into my body, expanding the parts and places of me that were one unexplored territory, I feel myself rising to the most incredible climax of my existence.

They have me trapped between them, but the sexual captivity sets me free as I shriek my pleasure out around Luca’s cock, tasting the cum he shoots over my tongue as he gives in to the heat of the moment and abandons himself to orgasm, his thick cock jerking inside my mouth even as Shank pushes deep and fills my pussy up yet again, until I am pouring with seed that escapes my pussy and drips down my inner thighs.

One moment my pussy is being drilled by Shank’s cock, my sensitive inner walls feeling the expansion and contraction of his member as it pulses inside me, releasing alien seed, then next I am being pulled onto Talon’s cocks. He is sitting down in a chair and I am impaled above him, Shank’s cum making for much needed lubricant as Talon slowly pulls me down on both his dicks, making my ass surrender to him.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, god!”

He slaps my ass lightly when I hesitate to let myself slide easily down. The rough expression on his hard face reminds me this is not about what I want. This is about what he wants.

Talon fucks me slowly up and down his cocks, my pussy taking him easily, my ass protesting and making me whimper softly with every stroke until it finally begins to relax and allows him to fuck me properly, bouncing me up and down on his hardnesses time and time again, my breasts bouncing, my holes filled, his lust commanding my body and making it clear to me who owns me.

I’m his. He’s mine.

Epilogue

Talon

“And that’s how we beat the Russians,” Major Tom says, swigging back an alarming amount of alcohol. “Just raised the price of social advertising. Hah! Bankrupted them within the year. Five dollars per click, and we put it all into the space force. Suckers!”

Though I do not understand everything he says, the old man is a wealth of information, and even in his infirmity, he brings an energy to the ship that is much enjoyed. His stories of his exploits on Earth, the beginning of the true space age, are an insight into the civilization Lyra could not give me, and helps me to understand how we might nudge civilizations who are on the verge of making the leap forward without starting conflicts.

“That boy ain’t right,” he adds, eying Luca as he strolls past with Lyra by his side. “He needs to put some pants on, and a shirt. And cut his damn hair. What kind of ship are you running here, Captain?”

He also has a great many opinions on how to run a ship. Most of them seem to revolve around haircuts, interestingly enough.

“How’s it going, Major?” Lyra comes over to us, a bright smile on her face. It has been six months since she returned to me, and the brief blip of lost memory is itself becoming forgotten.

“I was just saying, you can’t have a ship if you don’t have haircuts,” Major Tom says. “The length of hair is equal to the inverse of the length of discipline, which is to say...”

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