Chapter 9 - The Passenger

Degenerate Star Part 9 (Mf - noncon, slavery, training, primal, sci-fi)

Riley could only stare down at the floor. She was defeated. Fighting was no use. And if Zed wanted to pat her on the head like a puppy, she was powerless to do anything about it. The anger she’d felt so strongly just minutes ago was gone. She just felt empty and numb now.
“Who’s a good girl?” Zed cooed.
She didn’t want to say it, “Am I a good girl, Sir?”
Zed fell back onto the unmade bed, “You are a good girl.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Sir.”
“Would you like to suck my cock?”
She didn’t want to answer. The thought of that monstrous prick in her mouth, tasting her own juices, made her want to wretch. But she dared not say no.
“Only what you want matters, Sir.” She said as a compromise. While the words themselves were revolting, she was relieved not to have to say she wanted to blow him.
“Oh, you are such a clever girl,” Zed said, very pleased with himself. “I don’t think I want your filthy little cocksucker on me just yet. I think you need to get me more in the mood.”
Distant stars, she thought, how low must he kick me. She’d surrendered, there was nothing left, surely, he would ease up just a little.
He continued, “How about you stroke yourself? Watching a hot little slag like yourself never fails to get me hard enough to fuck like an animal.”
“Please…” she whimpered, “Isn’t it enough? Do you have to crush me to nothing?”
Zed leapt up crossing to her in an instant. A huge hand grabbed a fistful of hair and wrenched her face upward. She could only look into the stormy eyes glaring down at her.
“Listen, princess. You are not a person anymore. You are a thing. Holes to be used. Holes to be sold. Holes to be bought. Be grateful I’m the one getting the first crack at you, easing you into this new life of yours.” 
“If I handed you over to the slavers there’d be no mercy. You’d be just another number. A commodity. I’m doing this out of passion. To them, it's nothing but business. And if the product is defective, if it fights back, or doesn’t work properly, they have one solution for that. Space.”
“So quit your fucking whining and embrace exactly what you are. Meat.”
He let go of her hair as tears rolled down cheeks. Sitting heavily on the bed he hunched over leaning in to her. “I told you to touch yourself.”
“Yes, Sir.” She choked out. Her right hand slipped over a knee and found herself. She hated that her thighs were damp. Her own excitement forced out of her. She hadn’t wanted that, but the implants were, if nothing else, very effective. She traced her delicate fingers up the moist slit stopping to touch the piercing. It tingled sending pleasure waves through her. She gasped but it was stilted.
“A word of advice,” he said, “Imagine it's not you. Picture a clone of yourself in your mind. You’re just watching a dirty porno. It's not you. You didn’t want this. Touching yourself, getting fucked, orgasming, you didn’t ask for any of it. Let your clone take it and sit back and watch.”
For once he said something that made sense to her. She might not be able to go catatonic, but if she could disassociate, maybe that would make things easier. Forcing herself to relax she closed her eyes and imagined a duplicate of herself, naked, on her knees, with a hand buried between her thighs, stoking the fires that burned so fiercely inside. Her clone was beautiful. Athletic, firm, pretty, a creature many men had pursued.
Zed was no different. He wanted her, he just happened to have the power to take her. His desire made the waves of pleasure all that much more intense. As she watched her clone stroking herself in front of him.
The more she imagined a clone self, the easier it became to touch herself, to let her fingers glide along inner lips, to toy with her opening. She could hear herself moaning, starting to get into it. The clone was enjoying herself. Riley couldn’t tell, nor did she really care if it was the disassociation or the implants. At this point, it didn’t matter. Her clone started rolling her hips. She reached up and squeezed a breast, sighing as she felt the piercing in her nipple tingle on her fingertips.
This was so much easier than fighting it. She could relax while her clone did all the work. She could feel the climax her clone was working so hard at, coming quickly. Her clone slid two fingers inside herself. They went in easily. Riley gasped as her clone reached up and tickled that soft spongy spot. The wicked little clone began thrusting her hips, rocking on her hand. So close, Riley thought, the clone knew exactly how to get there. So much more efficient than any man had ever been.
Riley could hear her clone and herself gasping, sighing, struggling to breathe. The clone's body was tensing up rhythmically, and she mirrored it. Her double cloned other self made a low pained sound. Everything in the duplicate doppelganger herself self seized up. The clone arched her back and Riley leaned back with her. A taut wire inside, like the cord of an electric guitar, was stretched to its limit.
Then the cord was plucked. Her clone cried out. Riley joined in echoing her. Together, they rode the lighting that was her own own own clone’s hand. There was a flood of heat. Riley yelled in ecstasy, and her clone gushed, squirting fluid into Riley’s palm. They yelled in unison, “Fuck!”
Riley watched as her clone doubled over, Riley’s head was pressed to the floor. Her eyes were still wrenched shut and she could hear Zed laughing from far off.
“Fucking void. Now that was a show captain.”
She was confused. It hadn’t been her. It had been the other one. The double. The clone. Not wanting more punishment she let the comments pass. Better not to fight it and end up back in her own head. This was better. She could just be a passenger. There was something oddly calming about that thought.
I am the passenger, Riley told herself.