Chapter 5 – Desert

noncon, rough, sci-fi, humiliation, branding, body writing, exhibition, girthy alien sex

As the dinner wound to a close, the majordomo walked up and whispered in Hol Vydon’s ear. Vydon then announced, “And now, what you’ve all been waiting for… dessert.”
The crowd applauded, and the slave wait staff cleared away plates and refilled wine glasses. The Gythian slave appeared next to Kaster’s chair and asked, “Is there anything I can provide, sir?”
“No, I’m fine,” Kaster said, trying to dismiss her.
“Lord Vydon has asked that I take special care of you,” she replied as she slipped down to her knees, “I’ll remain here and attend to your needs.”
Kaster considered protesting but knew it would be pointless.
A human male pushed a floating tray. He was shirtless and covered in scars. When Kaster looked closer, he saw they were brands, not scars at all. On the surface of the floating tray was a small grill with jets of flame radiating up from it. A slender rod lay on the grill, with its wooden handle hanging in space away from the flames.
The two guards came from behind Vydon and went to each side of Indy-Ra. With a wave of the wand, her neck collar was freed from the chair, and the two guards grabbed her by the arms. They pulled the chair back and lifted her up. Her wrists were each shoved to the table, and with another tap of Vydon’s wand, the Fury’s bracelets were stuck fast, bending the naked woman over the table edge. More applause came from the other guests.
Hands massaged Kaster’s thighs. He looked down to see that the Gythian slave had crawled between his legs and was running her hands on him, guiding his knees apart. Her fingers went to the clasps at the front of his trousers, working them free quickly.
When Kaster looked back down the table length, he could see the guests were all taking liberties with the serving slaves. Some had slaves down between their legs, thrusting themselves up into sucking mouths. A man and woman couple had a slave pushed down onto the table while both worked fingers into pussy and ass. Another rough character had a slave straddling hi,m demanding she guide him inside her while she ground on his lap. Once his cock was free, Kaster felt warm lips wrap around it and suck him in. The only person not indulging was Hol Vydon, who watched the struggling Fury with glee.
The branded man took the wooden handle in one hand and turned the rod, rotating so the flames licked at it evenly. He positioned himself directly behind Indy-Ra as the guests laughed and urged him on. A small spherical drone floated over the branded man’s shoulder, and holo-vids appeared around the table, floating in the air. Indy-Ra’s bare asscheek was displayed for all.
With a nod from the Hol, the branded man lifted the rod from the flames. At the end of the rod was an intricate icon of a star encircled by a constricting snake, glowing cherry red in the heat. Indy-Ra had turned her head to see what was transpiring and stiffened. She turned back to look at Kaster, then closed her eyes. Kaster assumed she was reciting a mantra, but couldn’t tell with the gag covering her face. Although it was admittedly difficult to focus with the expert lips of the serving slave sucking hard at him.
Kaster watched as the glowing brand disappeared behind Indy-Ra. There was a hiss, and she pulled furiously at the bracelets. The binds refused to budge, stuck fast to the table, and were unyielding. Indy-Ra pulled at them until the skin on her wrists went white from exertion, but she did not scream. The holo-displays showed everything, the sun and snake seared into her ass with absolute clarity. The guests were disappointed, begging the Hol to have her branded again.
“And now she is a proper fuck slave of this household,” Vydon announced to a smattering of applause. He turned to the branded man, “Go ahead…”
The branded man cut the flames on the grill, then turned the tray around. On its other side were a collection of laser pens. He ran his fingers along them, looked at Indy-Ra’s unbranded cheek as if gauging his canvas, then selected a pen. With a button press, a small focused beam flicked from the end of the pen. He then bent down to work his artistry.
When Indy-Ra struggled, the two guards pressed in on either side and shoved their elbows to her back. One held her by the back of the neck. Together, they locked her down so her struggles would not mar the work about to be done.
The branded man leaned down and pressed the pen to her cheek. Whisps of smoke curled up away from flesh, all captured in close detail on the holo-displays. As the guests molested their slaves, drank their wine, and laughed at the fate of the Fury, Indy-Ra’s ass had words etched upon it.
When it was done, the holo-displays showed her ass with “Fuck Slave” burned into the flesh. Indy-Ra lay across the table, breathing heavily and pulling at her binds to no avail. Kaster himself had to say one of his own mantras to delay climaxing in the slave’s mouth.
“Are there any other suggestions?” Vydon asked the crowd.
A series of lewd suggestions poured out. Kaster watched Indy-Ra, wondering if there was some reservoir in her waiting for an opportunity to free herself and slay everyone in the room.
The slave released his rock-hard cock and climbed up his lap. Kaster tried to stop her, but she slipped up on him being very practiced at the maneuver. She leaned into his ear and whispered, “Allow me, sir, or I will be beaten.” Her deft fingers reached under herself, finding his cock and pressing it to her moist cunt. She eased onto him, and he sighed.
Watching the Gythian, he was surprised to see a look of utter joy. Gythians were universally stoic and unemotional, a product of a strict religious culture valuing logical thought over emotion. This one was a deviant by her own people’s standards, enjoying sex for its pleasure and not just an activity of procreation. He groaned as she slid down him and paused to clutch him with herself.
Turning back to Indy-Ra, Kaster saw that the guards had flipped her over on her back. Her arms were still bound to the table, wrists crossed now over her head. While they held her down, the branded man was busy carving, “Worthless Cunt,” just above her pussy. Her limbs twitched.
At the guest end, a slave had been thrown across the table and was being railed mercilessly by a hard-looking human. The slave cried out in ecstasy as it was the most profound experience of her life, implants or show, no one cared. Others had finished inside their slaves, and were playing other games, making the slaves clean the guests with their tongues, or having the slaves insert food into each other. The sheer decadence made Kaster uneasy, doubly so with the skilled performance of the Gythian riding him.
When “Bitch,” had been etched over the breast of Indy-Ra, Vydon turned to Kaster and asked, “What would you like on her other tit?”
It was difficult to focus; the Gythian was very skilled and enjoying her work as she slid up and down him, slowly egging him on to a climax.
“Traitor,” Kaster replied.
“Now that’s not very humiliating.” Vydon said, “Shouldn’t it be something a little more…”
“No,” Kaster cut him off, “Every time she looks in a mirror, the word traitor will stand out. The others are names you’ve given her. But traitor? That was hers before she ever got here.”
The Hol nodded, “Traitor, it is then.”
Kaster looked up at the blue slave riding him. She begged, “Please, sir…”
He reached out with his Focus, feeling her. She was so close, wanted to climax so badly. And yet she was prevented. He could feel the dead spaces created by the implants. Vibrating furiously until she was right at that peak, then they would stop suddenly, keeping her on edge and randy.
Fighting back his own climax, he asked, “Please what?”
“May I cum? I can’t unless you give me permission. Please, sir, let me cum. I can feel you are so close. Please let us do it together; it will feel so good. Please, sir.”
Struggling to hold back any longer, Kaster whispered, “Cum for me.”
The Gythian slave lost control. She clutched at him and slammed her hips down into him, fucking him with all her might. As she howled in his ear, he could feel her snatch grabbing at him, milking him as she went. Kaster let his control slip and felt a tightening pressure in his core. Every muscle seemed to tighten. Every stroke of her spasming cunt edged him further on. And he broke. Release felt like a searing pain ripping through his cock, every spurt a hot, fiery, volcanic eruption. As she slammed against him, the noises of their union went from slapping sounds to soggy wet squishes.
He felt it all through his Focus. The implants buzzed crazily, making her flare in arousal, then lose all control. She was broadcasting her delight so loudly that even a neophyte Fury would be able to read her. All thought vanished from her as she lost herself to orgasmic pleasure. Something that was denied to her constantly, something she begged for every single day.
He groaned in her ear as she whispered, “Thank you, sir, thank you.”
She continued riding him until the sensitivity became unbearable. With a shove, he pushed her off, and she slid down him back to the floor. Her mouth sucked his cock in for a moment as she sucked all the fluids off him. His hands went to her hair to pull her off, but she’d already uncoupled and instead was busy using her tongue to lap at his balls, trying to clean up every drop of cum.
When Kaster looked up, the Guards had pulled Indy-Ra up to stand, showing off her new brands. On her face was “Wh,” on one side of her mouth, followed by “re,” on the other. Her forehead read, “Fury Slut.” Across her chest, above each tit were the words, “Traitor Bitch.” Her stomach had “Cumdump,” “Rapemeat,” and “Worthless Cunt.” On her back, a drawing of a penis with wings, someone said she wasn’t a Fury, or a Phoenix, but a Penix now. And on the ass, “Fuck Slave.”
The crowd laughed and cheered as each was revealed. The drone captured all of it, showing every detail in close-up to the crowd. When the inspection was complete, the guards threw Indy-Ra back down across the table, attaching her hands to the surface and her legs to the table supports.
“One last morsel for this dessert,” Vydon said, “She won’t be a true fuck slave until we have her worn in.”
The guests erupted in applause. And the applause continued as a naked Ransar strutted into the dining hall. Ransars were a stocky race coming from a high-gravity world. This one was about average human height, but twice as thick. His cock was pierced twice with slave implants, once through his thick, flattened head, and another on the fleshy underside of the shaft. The shaft itself was girthy, so wide in fact that Kaster doubted it could fit into Indy-Ra.
The Ransar stepped up behind Indy-Ra and grabbed her hips with thick leathery fingers. His squashed face and upturned nose reminded Kaster of a Sol Rhino, something he’d seen in a zoo as a child. With a yowling warcry, the Ransar drove himself into Indy-Ra’s slick hole.
Damn it, Kaster thought, the slave girl working his cock had distracted him from reaching out to Indy-Ra. He immediately turned his focus to the bound Fury. She was reaching out to him as well, begging for help, trying to appeal to something he’d lost long ago.
She could feel him behind her, the flat, thick head, wrong-shaped for humans pressing hard against her. It felt horribly wrong, and yet, she was so worked up, so horny, so ready to be penetrated that she wanted it to fill her. She pushed back, bouncing off the head, trying to make it work in. The fingers on her hips were crushing her, but that too felt so good, so right, so natural.
It jammed against her hard, and she could feel herself being pried apart. It hurt, but in such a delicious way. She was being torn open, ripped in two, and filled as she never had been before. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel herself being stuffed completely by alien cock.
And hot, eager lips wrapped around her cock. No, his cock. Kaster could feel the Gythian slave sucking his painful, hard tool again. He reached back out for Indy-Ra.
She grunted as the Ransar thumped into her cervix. The shock that came from the gag was burning hot, but failed to distract from her split apart cunt. He started shoving into her forcefully, pounding away like she was meat. It felt like a crowbar was prying her ass apart, literally splitting her. While she wanted to cry and scream out, doing so would only produce more pain from the gag. Instead, she tried to relax as the beast behind her fucked into her like a jackhammer.
Kaster could feel himself nearing climax again. As he felt everything that Indy-Ra went through, it both horrified him and excited him in ways he’d never felt before. He was so close, and she was so close, and all those watching were enraptured in the sheer brilliance of their passion.
“Cum for us!” yelled Kaster, “Cum for us, you fucking slut, Indy-Ra. Cum for everyone at this table. Show them all what a nasty slag you are.”
Indy-Ra screamed. The gag shocked her. Her back arched. The Ransar drilled into her grunting. Kaster erupted in the warm mouth on his cock. He howled. The suction nearly took his skin off. He thrust spurting into his receptacle. She howled while being shocked. The alien fucked her. She came. He came. The alien came. Waves of pleasure seeped into everyone present. A shockwave of orgasm.
Kaster tilted his head back, yowling in delight as the slave sucked him dry. When he returned breathless and panting, he glanced down the table. The guests and slaves were all equally dazed, frozen in place, many in various states of molestation. They all went back to their business, slowed and uncomprehending in the wake of what they’d experienced.
Vydon, too, was dazed. His bulk quivered. He gasped for air like a fish out of water. Blinking, he looked to Kaster uncomprehending.
The Ransar collapsed onto the floor, exhausted. Leaving Indy-Ra shaking and alone on the table. The drone recorded a thick ooze of greyish alien cum dripping down her thighs and out of her abused and gaping slit.
Kaster looked down to see the Gythian slave rubbing her face against his crotch, relishing the feel of his sticky cock across her skin. She’d felt it too, the explosion when the Fury had climaxed. She looked up at him with adoring eyes, probably thinking he’d caused it.
“I need to go.” Kaster told Vydon.
Vydon shook his head, “Of course. My servant will see you paid.”