II.

Lying by the Slave King's side felt like a mockery of all other consensual romantic relationships that exist -- past, present and otherwise -- in the universe. But I didn't move. I let him, I hesitate to use the word, I let this grotesque monstrosity cuddle me. Because I had no strength left. Because I had no way to fight back. Because I could think of little else to do.

The Maraxxian guards knew better than to leave me alone with their king. I would be disappointed if they did anything else. The leash clipped to the collar around my neck would work fantastically as a garrote. Soddorom was drunk and exhausted enough that I could suffocate him with a pillow. And if all else fails, my hands could collapse his trachea with little effort -- one of the vulnerabilities of his particular species. But with eight guards standing no more than five yards away, I would have little to no opportunity to complete my mission.

So I will wait. I will live this new life as a slave. As the whore of the Slave King.

This would be his grave error. In his desire to humiliate and debase me, he kept me alive. And so long as I'm alive, I would have a chance to kill him. If I play my cards right, if I let him think he's breaking me, he'll slip up and let his guard down. Perhaps literally.

My tongue ran along my top row of teeth, and to my surprise, I found the metal edges of two small razor blades tucked between my cheek and gums on either side. It's an old trick girls in the ghettos of Earth used long ago, and I found it particularly useful at times. (For instance, the time I was beaten near to death after botching a stakeout, had a cement block tied around my ankles, and was thrown into a lake. I cut the inside of my cheek something awful, but I was able to also cut myself free.) I had assumed that the Maraxxians would have searched me completely for weapons while I was unconscious. And it was a miracle that the blades didn't fall out or cut Soddoram's cock while he fucked my throat and filled me with cum.

Ugh. I could still feel his semen filling my stomach. There was enough in there that I certainly wouldn't be hungry for a while.

I laid my head down on his shoulder and closed my eyes. Give me time, my lord. I'll slit your throat soon enough.

---

The image repulses you. Your smooth slender frame, shining with sweat, your bulbous ass bare, the meat of your left cheek folded pleasantly over your left leg while your right was raised and arched, your arm erotically outstretched over your tits showing only the squeezed cleavage from underneath. A portrait of lovers encircled, except for your trembling, you constantly shutting your eyes and looking away at the obese swamp creature, body diseased with with warts and tumors, each snore a desperate fight against its own congestion. That was your 'lover'.

His tongue slowly started wagging from his mouth in his sleep, pleasurable moans and chuckles rumbling from his cavernous mouth between each snore. You felt his penis hardening against your leg, embracing the convenience of your warm flesh. His tentacled hand rubbing it as he dreamed.
A pool of hot saliva had built in his mouth as he rumbled with pleasure, it threatened to spill from the corner of his lip and creep down his chin, between his chest and arm where he clutched you. As he chuckled in his sleep. You want to slip away from it but you fear that if he woke, he would be tempted to make his dreams a reality. You remain. His spit poured into the valley between your flesh. Hot fluid, like the seed he filled you with in nearly every orifice. You can still feel fluid work he had done to you, filling space you never knew existed. Rotting away inside of you.

Soon, you think, as the infantile King slobbered on your smooth flesh.

It felt like days had passed, but morning finally came. The Slave Girls paraded in, moving fluidly in thin transparent silks and less. The majority dressed their lord showering him with worship, running their soft hands down his body, while Garina and Kira took you to be groomed.

Garina dressed you in your slave girl wardrobe. She almost looks --aroused as she does, licking her lips as she fastens your leash, looking down on your clothing that accentuated your smooth youthful curves. While she did, Kira hummed a tune as she brushed your hair. The song of her people, you realize. Is she...?

"You may be beautiful, but you must be more," Garina says as she clasps your silver and jeweled bra, "Tonight you must learn to please Master," Garina says, "Kira and I are his finest dancers, and we perform before his majesty today."

Kira giggles in delight.

"You will know what dance moves please him the most, you will feel his excitement build beneath you until it cannot be contained."

"You are lucky," Kira adds "We live for the pleasure of Master, but you will get to reap the benefits of our lust."

Kira begins to sob, and she leaves the room.

"He was her favorite before you came," Garina explains, "He is her universe, she will do anything to be his. If only you were so appreciative of his gift."

Garina cups your breasts, and presses her soft blue lips into yours, her tongue curling around yours.

"Once you love Master, none will ever compare again," she loving runs her hand over your face, "He will grow bored of you, and you will spend your nights laying with a dozen beasts a day. Bask in him while you still can, his passion compares to none."

Garina releases you, resting her finger to our lips.

"Time to serve."

Garina pulls your leash, and the Maraxxians grant you entrance to the pleasure district. There you will sit as the property of the Slave King, as the freedom fighter and the Princess titillate and arouse him into fucking you even more.

---

I want to scream at these foolish women, take them by the shoulders and shake life and sense back into them If you want him so badly for yourself, help me escape!

But I keep my lips sealed, only looking straight forward as I'm bathed, perfumed, decorated (I wouldn't call what they pit on me to wear clothing) and dolled up. At least they are aware of how filthy his drool is. His body must contain some sort of acid that burns and numbs human skin in varying degrees depending on the bodily fluid.

Even as Garina cups my breasts, pressing soft fingers into my flesh, and takes hold of my tongue with hers, I do not react. I've never once felt a woman's touch in this way, and somehow it's almost as disgusting as Soddoram himself. There must have been something left of Garina on the other hand, if she still lusted for women even after Soddoram mind-raped her.

I couldn't help but ponder on the song Kira hummed. Either she knew it so innately that even with her mind gone, she still knew the tune, or she was biding her time as well. In any case, did she hate me now? For giving her hope that I could free her and then dashing it to pieces before her eyes? Or maybe she hated me for trying to blow off his cock.

"Time to serve."

I follow Garina obediently, making my way through the throng of other slaves and members of the pleasure district until I found myself at the base of Soddoram's dais. It only took one sharp tug from Garina for me to begin my tortuous path up the stairs.

---

You couldn't tell where your back ended and his stomach began, it was like a bed filled with mud, and coated in slime that clung to your flesh. He let his hand lay over your chest, where his tentacled fingers sucked at your breasts. A relief compared to most times, when his fingers would play with your lips, the ones between your legs, and your ass. There was no part of you he hadn't already
violated.

In the first hour he is visited by tributes from a dozen systems, offering him extravagant gifts that hadn't been rejected at the door. Artifacts from mythic conquerors pleased him the most, more so than some women that were offered before him. Sisters and daughters of Lords brought in chains and tears. He would barely look at them, instructing his guards to take them to some unnamed whorehouse in his lower districts, or sell them.

Your eyes wander as tributes peddle more women and trinkets, you recognize the red-haired young singer Sorania -- whom young girls of her generation adored, as she resists being pulled by a pack of Golbians. She must be new. A Maraxxian guard casually stuns her, leaving her limp for the Golbians to cart her off the inspirational singer, heaving her to a private room like a captive animal.
You imagine them gang-banging her without resistance. The little beasts sucking her tits, tugging her fiery red hair, sticking their tiny hairy cocks into every orifice. They certainly could fit anywhere...

The stage went dark. They return as blue and yellow spotlights, and what you see churns your stomach.

Garina stood in a slutty parody of the tattered clothes of the Narnites. Kira's outfit was a parody of her seventeenth birthday dress. Her skirt several feet shorter, revealing her petite bare bottom as she bent over daintily. The music began low, as the lights danced and the pulsing increased, the girls began to find themselves undressing.

You hate when the pulsing tempo of the music elevates, it would mean the dancers would step up their seduction, and the Slave King would take out his lusty excitement on you, his soft and fleshy toy. The fact that you knew that was his habit after only being on his lap for a few hours disturbed you. You were always observant about enemy tactics, the behaviors of your bounties. Would your intuition be converted to sense your master's desires and act on them to elicit maximum pleasure from the Slave King?

The curvature and fluid movements of Garina caught the gaze of Sodoram, as she whipped her dark blue hair around her. Feeling of her own blue body through the holes of her tattered and torn peasant clothing have driven the Slave King mad with lust. His fingers travel down the small of your back and begin squeezing and sucking on your plump and supple cheeks below. Still sore from when he had conquered it.

Kira and Garina were free of their insulting stripper clothing, and were embracing each other on stage. Twisting over each other, their lips intertwined, their hands running over their bodies. Blue and pink. Their dancing mimicking intercourse, as Garina thrusted in the air behind Kira as she moans theatrically.

Soddoram tugs your leash.

"Touch me," he bellows.

He tugs again. You crawl to his pants, and dig beneath his robes to find his member drooling in excitement. His lips squelch in anticipation as your hand runs down his shaft, workman-like, simply running your hand up and down, hoping his lust will do the rest and get it over with.

Two minutes go by like this, and the Slave King grows impatient. You feel his tentacled hand grab you by the hair, and he forces your lips over his cock. His hand forcing your head up and down his shaft as his belly rocked bringing his penis higher each moment it pounded your throat. Nearby guests point to your misfortune and laugh as he brought your face all the way to his balls as he came. You try to pull away but he forces you there.

"You move when I tell you to, slut."

He just watches you with satisfaction, his arms relaxed behind his head as he lies back. His cock still buried in your mouth, watching you choke and gag until you turn blue and his semen overflows from your mouth, dribbling onto your chest as the world starts to blur.

The lights dim. The dance is about to begin. Soddoram unsheathes from your mouth. You fall on your hands coughing, gasping for air as he laughs. As you lie face down in a puddle of his cum, hyperventilating.

You haven't moved from the spot in hours, enduring every perversion, every comment by Soddoram and his guests. But the guest that joins you for the dance activates the Assassin in you, prompting you to rise institutionally.

Jizma Opricus, dressed in his grey and red armor. The same red skinned yellow eyed Rodite bounty hunter that stole Kira Nya, your childhood friend. The last innocent thing-- 

Soddoram tugs you hard by the leash. Making you splash into his stomach. Your throat on fire as you cough.

"Behave, my little whore."

"Oh my Gods" Jizma Opricus says through his helmet mic, "Is that the Oracle Assassin herself? Without her clothes?"

Soddoram nods with a rumble.

"The Oracle Assassin? With your cum hanging off her chin?"

Another minute goes by like this, with Jizma in disbelief and Soddoram reassuring him of all the deeds he committed last night. Pointing to every spot he got to visit like you weren't there, listening to them casually discussing your rape.

"Hey, you don't mind if I ... borrow her for a minute don't you?"

"I thought you liked them unspoiled. Like Kira when you first brought her here."

"Well, yeah, you're right. But it's just, she's been real mean to me before and I just wanted to take out some of that angst between us."

Soddoram grumbles. He takes the end of your leash and hands it to Jizma.

"Do not damage her badly, she's mine."

---

This is beyond torture, beyond the worst thing I could imagine. Soddoram, then Jizma. How long before I'm given to each one of my enemies I've made?

Not like this. As Jizma guides past the velvet curtains, into a room with a circular bed pit, I prepare to reach for my mouth and take out the razor. The leather around his neck is too thick to cut. Guess I'll have to settle with cutting off his manhood.

He quickly reaches for his wrist, and taps a command into his wrist device. A positive beep later, and his visor fades away.

But instead of yellow Rodite eyes, I see a blue eyes on a Human face, with the subtle green flicker of a heads up display in his left eye; standard issue among Federation agents.

"Listen," his voice modulator disabled, revealing a light southern Earth accent, "I'm not Jizma. The Federation sent me to get you out of here."

I could've cried. Could've. But I remember my last thought as a free woman.

"Thank you Soldier. But... I have a mission to complete. I'm closer than I ever was to this monster."

"That may be true, but Persilius has given me orders to get you out of here alive ma'am. If you kill Soddoram there'll be hell to pay, literally. Torture beyond anything anyone has ever felt, for as long as you live and then some. Nut there's another way. I need you to wait a couple of days, at some point he's going to send you to reconditioning to heal you from all the..." he stops, "... 'Damage' you'll receive."

I already knew Soddoram is capable of restoring his favorite slaves. Through cloning, his regeneration pods, and top notch medical professionals (most of which he kidnapped). I assumed this would be only for the ones that resisted. It would be a difficult next few days. I can kill Soddoram before then, but rescue after that would be impossible.

"We have about thirty more seconds," the Soldier's visor fades back in, "I could only knock out the surveillance for a minute. He's going to be suspicious if ... if I don't."

He begins to undo his zipper.

"I admire you so much Oracle Assassin, I'm so 'sorry' for this."

I take this all in. The Federation helping me escape, the chance to get back at Soddoram for everything, a few more days of this torture and only when I'm damaged enough will I have my chance to escape.

All of this and I have to bend over for my rescuer as he fucks me from behind to avoid detection. His wrist-device beeps.

Lights, camera, action.