Chapter 22 - These Boots were made for Polishing

Degenerate Star Part 22 (Mf- noncon, slavery, training, primal, sci-fi, humiliation)
 
When a ring echoed through the room Riley woke with a start. She found herself alone in Zed’s bed, still naked, and a mess from the evening before. The sheets were horribly stained, and she knew she’d need to clean them before the work shifts were done for the day.
Zed stood at the entrance to the head, slipping a shirt on and watching her. “A proper slave girl would wake before her owner.”
Panic, “I’m sorry, Zed.”
“Zed? Are we on a first name relation, slave girl?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. No, Sir. Won’t happen again.”
“No worries. I know it won’t. We’ll make sure to reinforce that, though, after the work shifts.” Zed leaned against the wall. 
Zed seemed to be waiting for something. Unsure what to say Riley ventured a hesitant, “Thank you, Sir?”
He smirked, “Are you forgetting your little work detail? You’ve only got a few minutes to the start of first shift. Your crew should all be waiting for you.
“Oh stars!” Riley leapt out of bed rushing for the head. Zed blocked her passage just with his bulk still leaning in the doorway. She looked up at him knowing better than to try squeezing around or pushing past him like she might have done with Academy bunk-mates, “Excuse me, Sir.”
His gaze was icy, “Is that how a slave girl should greet her owner in the morning? Swearing and trying to push through him?”
“No, Sir.” Riley was irritated at this ridiculous request, and how easily the conciliatory words slipped from her mouth without thought. “How would you like me to greet you for first shift?”
He stroked his chin and leered, “First off, you’ll wake before I do.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’ll stroke and suck me until I wake up.”
“Of course, Sir.” 
“Once I’m awake, I’ll choose whether to finish in you or not.”
A rush of heat, she exhaled, “Yes, Sir.”
“When released, you’ll get the fresher ready for me. With scalding water, not that piffle-posh sonic rubbish.”
“Yes, Sir.” She wondered if she would be expected to shower with him. Of course, she would. He’d need someone to wash those broad shoulder blades… and abs… and cock.
“Well?” he said, snapping her out of her diversionary daydream.
“Stars! Yes, Sir.” She dropped to her knees, hands going right to the belt.
Zed swatted them away, “Too late for the ole in and out love. You can make it up after shift with your spanking.”
Spanking? Oh void. “Yes, Sir.”
He patted her head as he walked past, went through the hatch, and she was alone. 
Void be damned, her crew needed clothing. She raced out to the passageway. Zed was just entering the bridge. She dashed down the corridor and called, “Sir!”
He turned, saw her, but still stepped into the bridge. With a wave, he urged her to follow. Riley entered the bridge, naked as always.
She saw Vgg-r standing with two humans, their eyes all locked onto her. Vgg-r gave a toothy grin letting his tongue loll out. The two humans glanced at her, then at Zed and Vgg-r, they sported leering smirks. Their eyes were all over her, she knew they must be imagining all the things done to her last night. Would Vgg-r talk about such things? She was a slave, and her opinion, dignity, and pride didn’t matter. Of course, he would tell the crew he was a good boy and got rewarded from the captain’s own booty. She felt her face go crimson just thinking about the chain of events.
“You need something slave girl?” Zed said and smacked her ass with enough force to make her jump forward. She could tell by his grin he was being playful. Her ass wasn’t so amused.
“Clothing.” She said, “My crew is going to need clothing.”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that. You boys think the slaves should wear clothing?” Zed asked the bridge crew.
They laughed and returned a chorus of no’s in unison.
“Democracy in action, no clothing.”
Flustered and still flushing she explained, “Sir. I respect the culture you’ve cultivated among your crew, all for one etc. But we will be working with abrasives, caustics. You wouldn’t want rashes to spoil the crew’s fun would you?”
Zed’s playful look melted away into something very serious. The crew went silent. Oh void, she thought. She’d cornered him verbally, and now he either looked like a chump or a pushover.
“I apolo…” Riley started, a thick hand lashed out and grabbed her by the throat. 
Zed lifted her by the neck with one hand, choking her as he did so. Her hands went to his wrist, trying to lift herself for any fraction of a small breath. Her toes dangled freely, frantically seeking hard deck beneath her that was no longer there. The crew watched blank-faced.
“I don’t think that’s the proper tone a girl, especially a slave girl should be using.” He released her dropping Riley to the deck.
Coughing she scrambled up to her knees and choked out, “I apologize, Sir.”
“Oh? Have you learned a lesson here?”
“Yes, Sir.” She gasped.
“And?”
“A slave-girl should mind her tone when speaking to her owner.” As she talked about herself in third person, there were little buzzes of pleasure shooting through her body.
“Good girl,” he said as ghostly fireworks of pleasure were set off inside her. He set a booted foot down in front of her, “Show me how sorry you are.”
She looked at his boot, then up at him. Wide chest, even through the shirt she could see those ridiculous abs, thick biceps that could pin her down or lift her up. “Sir?”
“Polish my boots as an apology.”
“Yes, Sir.” She started to rise looking around.
Zed grabbed her by the back of the neck and held her down. He asked, “Where do you think you are going?”
“To find a rag and polish, Sir.” She squeaked out.
“No. Show me how sorry you are. Polish my boots with that drippy little cunt of yours.”
She stared up at him. In the corner of her eyes, she could see the bridge crew snickering. Even Vgg-r seemed to enjoy the impromptu show. “Sir?”
His grip tightened on her head, and he slipped his foot forward between her thighs. “I told you to polish my fucking boots slave. Are you too good for that?”
“No, Sir. It’s just that…”
Zed tipped his foot back, grinding the toes up into her. She gasped and tried not to think how this must look to the others. The ask was ludicrous. If she did as he commanded, she would dull his boots, not shine them. 
“Don’t just sit there. Grind that sopping hole on my foot. Get my boots, nice and soaked, slave.”
Her body moved as she still struggled to understand, to join the thoughts of polishing his boots by using her juices and pussy to do so. She felt herself rotating her hips, sliding over the leathrine footwear. Heat radiated from the contact. She grabbed his knee with both hands and began grinding hard against him. As she worked his boot with herself, she heard tiny sighs escaping. She wanted more. 
The thought of the bridge crew watching made her both squirm and want to cover herself. It was then that she realized. Zed didn’t need his boots shined. He needed to show his crew that he was willing to punish an uppity slave. This made it even worse. Zed was purposefully humiliating her. The knowledge of this made her blush crimson.
As she pushed her needy cunt to him, she could feel another orgasm building in intensity. Her clit felt like it was stinging. She’d had so much stimulation in the last day, that it was agony to do as she’d been told. And yet, the looming orgasm said otherwise.
In no time, she was in agony with the need for release, “I’m only a slave. My opinion doesn’t matter.”
“No. keep working.” Zed said as she shoved herself down on him harder. She clutched at his knee, hoping the intensity of her grip and the force of her pussy against him would convey just how badly she needed a climax.
Panting she begged, “Please, Sir. I’ve learned my lesson. I will only be sweet and demure from now on.”
“Not the right words.” He said. She almost cried out in frustration.
“My opinion doesn’t matter. I’m just a slave.” She begged.
“Filthier.”
“My dumb slut opinion doesn’t matter. This ass fucked whore is only a slave.”
“Cum for me. Right now.”
She gave the crew the show they wanted. She clung to Zed’s leg riding her body out as she lost all control. Worse than that, being watched by the crew as she did something so humiliating and unnecessary made the orgasm even more intense. To add to her humiliation, she felt a sudden urge to empty herself, and then she squirted on his foot while dry-humping his boot. She was indeed a toy to these men and nothing more. The shame was monolithic.
“Nicely done captain. Now the other.”
In a trance, unable to look up at any of the men in the room, Riley lifted herself from one foot and then climbed onto the other. She started mechanically, her body just going through the motions as she still quivered inside. Soon enough, though, the fires started again. Her clit was on fire, the pain so intense it felt like it was playing equals to the pleasure. She begged, pleaded, and growled in frustration. Zed refused to let her climax.
He shook his foot and told her to stop. Riley knelt there in the puddle she made, desperate and aching, willing to do anything to roll into another climax.
“You made a mess on that first boot.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Show me. Clean it up.”
Riley looked at Zed’s boots. One was covered in her fluids. The other had frothy streaks.
“What would you like me to clean them with, Sir?”
“Why don’t you use the same tongue that gave me so much attitude a minute ago?”
“Yes, Sir.” She leaned down, tongue out, and lapped at her own juices. With each lick, she was tickled by the implants. Squirming desperately, it became hard to focus on the task at hand.
“I’m just a slave, nothing more,” she said between licks, “my opinion is meaningless.”
“Filthier.”
She groaned in frustration, “This little slave cunt, opinion is just a whore.”
“No.” he pulled his foot away and pushed the other to her. 
Riley was just riding this out. The passenger took over, lapping hungrily at her own ejaculate.
She begged more, and was ignored. Finally Zed lifted his foot and pushed her face away with it.
“Learned your place slave?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You will remain naked all day. No cleaning for you. You will only supervise.”
Riley thought instantly of the ramifications. On her ship, she helped out with everything. It was expected that officers and crew alike did work together. She was now forbidden to help out. Her crew would think she was making them do all the dirty work. “Yes, Sir.”
“And no shower. Your crew should be able to see that you are just like them, a filthy used cunt.”
Her humiliation was now complete. She knew it was exactly what her crew would think of her.