Jul 132020
 

There was no where for me to sit so I stood behind Aki as she worked. The hacker typed at her keyboard as eight monitors bathed the room in blue light. Small action figures, all of them with bunny ears, crowded her desk. A window was open to let in small breeze but the air was still too warm.

“The crypto-locks are Russian made,” Aki said.

I didn’t answer. It was all gibberish to me. My job was to take the data that Aki stole and deliver it by hand to my client. Because of hackers like Aki, my client preferred to do as much offline as possible. That was fine with me.

Aki clicked her mouse. One of the monitors spewed green numbers. She leaned closer to the monitor, seeing something in the numbers that I never would.

With nothing else to look at, I looked at Aki. The round glasses were a little too big for her face. Straight brown hair, parted down the middle, was pulled back into a messy ponytail. She wore a torn t-shirt that exposed her right shoulder. A tattoo of a rabbit was crouched in the crook of her neck.

“There,” Aki said. “We have to wait for the program to break the cascade locks before we can continue.”

“How long will that take?” I ask.

Aki typed and one of the monitors changed to a countdown clock. It read five minutes and three seconds.

I sighed. Five minutes at staring at action figures and monitors.

“Take off your pants,” Aki said.

“Excuse me,” I said.

“Take off your pants and I’ll suck you off,” she said. The hacker was still looking at her monitors.

“Uh, no thank you,” I said. “Five minutes isn’t enough to get me off and I don’t want to do my job with a hard-on for the rest of the night.”

Aki turned her swivel chair to face me. I never noticed how full her lips were until now. Were those implants?

“If I don’t get you off before the locks are broken, you can come back later tonight and fuck my ass.”

I looked at Aki’s seat. She was a small woman. It would be a tight fit.

“Why?” I asked.

Aki shrugged. “We have time to kill.”

I studied the young woman’s face. It was hard to read her eyes because all I could see was the reflection of the monitors in her glasses. There was no hint of desire or seduction. She was bored and waiting for an answer

“Fuck it,” I said and I unzipped my pants.

Aki didn’t wait for me to finish undressing. She reached into my briefs and pulled out my cock. Opening her lips, she stuck out her tongue and took a slow lick of my head. My member throbbed and grew harder. She took another lick and then another.

Four minutes and thirty seconds.

My cock was fully erect. Aki closed her lips around the head of my cock. Her tongue swiped back and forth. She stroked my hard length with her tiny hand.

I growled. Her lips were damn soft. I didn’t know how implants would feel, but these lips felt real. They were blowjob lips.

Aki leaned forward. Half of my cock disappeared into her mouth. She looked up at me and turned her head slightly so that my cock would make her cheek bulge. Staying in that position, she stroked my cock. The countdown clock was reflected in her glasses.

It was damn sexy to watch. My hips bucked as I tried to fuck her mouth but her grip tightened. She kept me in place as she rolled her tongue over my dick.

Three minutes and fifty seconds.

Aki turned in her swivel chair. She faced her monitors with my cock in her mouth. The tip of my cock popped free but she kept her lips on it. Those full luscious blowjob lips slid over the head of my cock with slick ease. Her tongue stuck out and wrapped underneath it.

I shuddered. Aki turned slightly and took me back into her mouth. More of my cock slid into her, almost three quarters of my length. She lingered and circled my cock with her tongue.

Aki moved back and forth, her lips loose on my cock. Her tongue swiped back and forth with lazy care. With each cycle, she turned her head to the side so that her right cheek would bulge and then her left. All the while, her hand kept stroking the base of my cock.

Three minutes and one second.

I wondered what it would be like to fuck her ass. Would she take me into her bedroom or would be do it right here at her desk? Maybe she would kneel on her chair and spread her ass for me. I would push into her until her small frame was impaled on my thick cock.

Would she moan? Would she squeal? Would she be silent and slightly bored?

Aki pulled her head back. Her lips closed around the top half of the cock head. Spit glistened in the flickering monitor light. I felt the tip of her tongue gently lap at the slit of my dick.

I shuddered. I reached down and grabbed her bare shoulder. The tattoo bunny was inches away from my thumb.

Aki tilted her head up. The monitor-reflected glasses looked up at me. The head of my cock almost slipped out of her plump lips. Almost.

That was when I knew. I would not be fucking her ass. Not tonight.

Aki lowered her head and turned to the side again. The length of my cock vanished again. Her cheek bulged with the head of my cock. Tight fingers pumped the base of my cock. A wet tongue traced a vein.

I came. I swear her cheek bounced from the force of my ejaculation.

Aki leaned forward. This time all of my length disappeared between her lips. The tip of her nose touched my crotch. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed one load after another.

One minute and thirty seconds remained.

When there was no more left to swallow, Aki slowly pulled back. Her cheeks collapsed as she sucked. Her tongue was quicker now, scrubbing and polishing as my length slipped past her lips. When the tip finally emerged, it was completely clean of spit and seed.

Aki turned back to her computer. I tried to catch my breath as I zipped my pants back up.

“Fuck, that was good,” I said.

“Shh,” Aki said. “Busy now.” She typed at her keyboard as eight monitors flashed new information.

I kept quiet as she returned to her true passion.

Jul 082020
 

Maxwell Booker stared at the ceiling. A large screen displayed an alien skyscape. Pink and brown clouds floated in contrasting directions. It reminded him of lava lamp.

He was lying on a table, though the surface he was on was padded and not uncomfortable. Something metallic held onto his wrists, stretching his arms past his head. The same hard restraints locked his ankles in place. His arms, body and legs formed a straight line on the table.

Maxwell had woken up on this table. The last thing he remembered was defending the President in the White House Bunker and failing. That’s not true. The last thing he remembered was getting smothered in giant purple tits. Clearly, he had been taken prisoner.

Was this a cell or an interrogation room? Maxwell looked around the room, searching for a clue. The white walls were devoid of decoration or furniture. He wasn’t even sure where the light was coming from.

Maxwell just wished he knew why the Venusians had stripped him naked. It was probably to humiliate him. If he was embarrassed, then it would soften him up for their questions.

Fuck that. Maxwell wasn’t going to tell them anything. To be honest, he didn’t really know that much since his primary job was protecting an idiot President who was now dead, but the aliens didn’t know that. He would stall and make them waste their time interrogating him. All they would get from him is his name and rank.

There was a hissing sound. A crack formed in one of the white walls. Someone stepped through.

It was a Venusian. Eight feet tall, and mostly naked, the Venusian looked like a human woman with purple skin and black hair. Well, no human had tits that big or black nipples that large. Also, no human had muscles bulging up and down her arms and legs while still so strongly identifying as female.

Was it the same Venusian that had captured Maxwell? He couldn’t tell. She had the same black hair, yellow eyes and luscious lips as the other one, but he couldn’t be sure. No one had ever seen a Venusian outside their battle armor until Maxwell was captured.

The Venusian wasn’t alone. Another purple alien woman walked in, followed by another and then another and another. Maxwell counted a total of twelve giantesses before the crack in the wall disappeared.

A heavy scent hung in the air. It was sweet and reminded Maxwell of a flower shop. He found himself drooling.

The Venusians surrounded the table. They leaned in close to look at Maxwell. Some of them gazed at him like he was a snack.

Maxwell studied them as best he could from his position. Some of them had red streaks in their black hair. One had a red eye that looked artificial. Another had remarkably larger breasts for her already well-endowed kind.

Inevitably, his cock responded to the sight of so much bare flesh. It throbbed and hardened with each pulse.

A Venusian pointed and a whistle sound came from her lips. The other Venusians answered with whistles of their own. Those who didn’t whistle licked their lips.

Maxwell didn’t know what to do. He pulled on his restraints but they held on just as tightly as they had since he had woken up.

One of the Venusians reached for Maxwell’s cock. He tried to twist away from her but it was useless. The Venusian had a white streak in her long black hair. She gripped Maxwell’s cock with surprising gentleness.

Maxwell froze. They had his cock. He sure as fuck didn’t want to anger them.

The white-streaked Venusian whistled. The other Venusians whistled back. Her palm was as wide as Maxwell’s cock was long. She curled two of her smaller fingers around Maxwell’s member.

Maxwell groaned. His cock pulsed in the Venusian’s hand.

The Venusian stroked Maxwell’s cock. Up and down she went, all the time whistling those strange sounds.

The other Venusians leaned in closer. Massive purple breasts hung above Maxwell. Some Venusians stared at his member while a few stared at his face.

One Venusian with two red streaks in her hair and a silver ring through her nipple, whistled something. She stretched her hand out and touched his balls with the tips of her fingernails. As the white-streaked Venusian continued to stroke, the red-streaked Venusian rubbed his balls.

“Oh fuck,” Maxwell groaned. Did they not have cocks on Venus? Maybe they were just curious about his dick’s ability to grow hard.

The white-streaked Venusian stopped whistling and leaned over Maxwell’s phallus. Spit fell from her lips. The Venusian kept stroking, smearing her spit over his hard member.

“Fucking shit,” Maxwell said. They knew exactly what his cock was. The alien women were toying with him. Getting him off was probably a part of their plan to humiliate him. Well fuck that. They would get nothing out of him, not even his come!

The other Venusians reached out to touch him. some gripped his legs with their powerful hands. Other ran their fingernails along the side of his broad chest. One Venusian, the one with the largest breasts, reached down and tapped his nose.

Maxwell tried to ignore the many hands touching him. He tried to think about football, but he kept picturing giant naked alien women ramming straight through a defensive line. He switched to multiplication tables but every time he looked at a massive pair of breasts, he doubled the number he was working with. Finally, he tried closing his eyes but just made him even more aware of how many aliens were touching him.

The Venusian at his cock tightened her grip. She also stroked him faster. More spit fell onto his cock.

“Fucking fuck, shit, shit, shit,” Maxwell groaned.

The alien woman bopping Maxwell’s nose stopped. She bent down closer to look at him. Her giant purple breasts dangled inches from his face. He caught himself lifting his head to try to nuzzle them.

The alien stroking his balls moved her fingers to the tip of his cock instead. She rubbed the bit of pre-come that was forming. Maxwell watched her bring her fingers to her nose, sniff and then take a lick.

“Oh, FUCK!” Maxwell groaned. He had to keep from coming. It was only act of defiance left to him. He couldn’t let himself come. This was for America!

The Venusian who tasted his pre-come reached for his cock. The tip of her fingernail touched the head of his member. Slowly, she traced the circumference of Maxwell’s cockhead.

Maxwell gritted his teeth. He looked up at the Venusian above his head. She opened her mouth and a pink tongue licked her dark lips.

That was the final straw. Maxwell climaxed. A stream of seed shot into the air like a rocket. One of the Venusians snatched it from the air with lightning speed. She licked it from her hand.

The Venusian kept pumping his cock. More seed flew upwards. The Venusians tried to snatch it from the air with their incredible speed. As soon as one caught a load, they licked their fingers clean. Not a single drop landed in Maxwell or the table.

As Maxwell came, the Venusian above his head lowered her nipple to his mouth. He lunged upwards and wrapped his lips around it. His tongue flickered as fast as he could.

The nipple tasted like lavender.

When there was no more seed to pump, the white-streaked Venusian let go of his cock. She whistled and the others whistled back. some of the whistles reminded Maxwell of giggles.

The Venusian above Maxwell stood up. Her nipple popped from Maxwell’s mouth. A line of spit connected her black nipple to his lips but it was soon broken.

The Venusians headed back to the wall. The crack re-appeared. Maxwell watched a dozen perfect purple asses leave the room.

“Fuck,” he whispered. What was that all about? He had no idea.

Above him, pink and brown clouds collided together on the view screen.

Jul 062020
 

Maxwell Booker, Secret Service agent, stood ten feet away from the President of the United States. Another Secret Service agent, Simms, was ten feet away from the President on the other side. Both of them would have liked to have been closer to the man they were supposed to protect, but the President was giving an interview to a Wolf News reporter and the President hated sharing screen time with people who had never been on television.

They were fifty feet underground, inside a bunker designed to take an indirect nuclear stroke. Five Marines guarded the thick metal door that led to the surface. The bunker was supposed to house the President’s family and a few members of his security detail, but the First Lady went AWOL two weeks ago with a Russian Ambassador. The President decided to bring his staff with him so that the press wouldn’t accuse him of hiding in a bunker by himself. The reporter was invited because the President always wanted the spotlight, even in the middle of an invasion from Venus.

“What message do you have for the American people about the Venusian ships bombing their cities?” the reporter, Brett Canny asked. Maxwell was amazed by how upbeat Brett sounded during a bombing run.

“I tell people that the Venusian space ships and their armies will go away,” the President said. “One day, they will just disappear and it will be like a miracle.”

Maxwell bit back a snort. It was easy. He had plenty of practice not reacting to stupid things the President said.

There was a tingling on the top of Maxwell’s bald head. He looked up to see the ceiling was glowing pink. That was not good.

“Sir, we should move,” Simms said.

The President had already fled to the bathroom. Damn, the old fart could move when he wanted to. Self-preservation was his best talent.

The ceiling vanished. Maxwell looked up at the open sky. Where the fuck was the White House?

A floral scent wafted down to them. Oh shit.

Venusian soldiers lined the edges of the hole. Each were eight feet tall and covered in silver metal from head to toe. The metal appeared to be skintight, and revealed more than it concealed. It was impossible to miss the giant breasts, the wide hips, the bulging biceps, the thick thighs and incredible posteriors.

Maxwell heard Simms whistle in shocked appreciation. He shared the feeling. Video footage didn’t do the feminine curves justice. No one knew what a Venusian looked like under that armor, but they had the bodies of Amazons.

The Marines opened fire with their automatic weapons. Sparks flashed on the Venusian Solder’s armor. White House staffers screamed and scrambled to hide under desks and behind couches. Brett dropped to his knees and cried.

“Protect the President!” Simms yelled. Maxell drew his service pistol as Simms ran to the bathroom. Covering Simms, Maxwell walked backwards slowly to keep an eye on the invaders.

A few Venusians dropped down into the bunker. There was three of them. They raised their hands and pink beams of energy fired forth.

Three Marines turned to ash. One of the Marines rushed a Venusian and she backhanded him, breaking his neck. The fifth marine pulled out a grenade and tossed it. The Venusian grabbed the grenade and pressed it to her chest. There was a muffled “k-tump” as the grenade harmlessly went off. The Venusian blasted the last Marine with her free hand.

So much for the Marines. The Venusians turned their attention to the civilians. They fired rapid shots into the furniture. Screams and ash filled the bunker.

One of the Venusians turned to face Maxwell. He was the last one alive in the main bunker chamber. She pointed her hand at Maxwell.

He was going to die. Maxwell knew it but he didn’t falter. He pointed his gun, aimed for where he assumed an eye would be and squeezed the trigger.

The Venusian’s head snapped back. She lowered her hand. One of the other Venusians pointed their hand at Maxwell but then stopped.

Maxwell fired again. This time he aimed a little lower, hoping to hit a mouth. The Venusian head snapped back again.

The other two Venusians lowered their hands and flanked the one that Maxwell had been firing at. The stance reminded Maxwell of how he and Simms flanked the President. Was he shooting at some kind of leader?

The center Venusian walked towards Maxwell. He kept firing. Each shot hit the head of the Venusian and each hit made her head snap back.

KLICK KLICK. Maxwell was out of bullets.

The Venusians surged forward. The center one grabbed Maxwell’s wrist and squeezed. Pain shot up his arm and he dropped the gun. The Venusian delivered a swift kick to his stomach. Maxwell’s feet left the ground as the air rushed out of him. He collapsed to the floor and gasped for air.

The other two soldiers ran past Maxwell to the bathroom. Maxwell heard gunshots followed by a scream. There was the sizzle of a door being vaporized followed by pathetic whimpering. Another sizzle sound and the whimpering stopped.

Ice slid down Maxwell’s spine. He had failed. The President was dead. The guy was a useless asshole but it was Maxwell’s job to protect him. The only upside was that the Venusian would soon kill him and he wouldn’t have to live with his disgrace.

The Venusian stood in front of Maxwell. What was she waiting for?

Maxwell looked up at Venusian. “Kill me already.”

The silver armor on the Venusian’s arms shimmered and melted away to reveal light purple skin. The melting continued to expose thick shoulders and a stout neck. The armor faded from her chest to reveal massive purple breasts topped with black nipples. Next were wide hips and bulging thighs. Smooth sex lips glistened with perspiration or desire. The silver armor continued to fade until the Venusian was barefoot.

The floral scent intensified. Despite the pain in his stomach and wrist, Maxwell felt his cock pulsing within his boxers.

Only the helmet remained. The Venusian touched a spot on her chin. The front of the helmet vanished.

The Venusian was beautiful. Bright yellow eyes stared at him. A pointed nose flared. Thick dark purple lips were slightly open to give hints of the pink tongue inside.

There were slight discolorations around her eye and lips. It was a lighter shade of purple. Were those bruises?

Maxwell smiled. They were bruises from where he had shot her. “Bet you felt that,” he said. If he was going to die, at least he gave the enemy a black, err, purpler eye.

The Venusian opened her mouth. A strange whistling sound came out. Was that their language?

“Yeah, fuck you too,” Maxwell said.

The Venusian stopped down and grabbed the back of Maxwell’s neck. A tight vice cinched around him. She stood and lifted him from the ground. Her head tilted to the side and her lips pursed. Up and down her yellow eyes roamed as she studied him.

Maxwell didn’t like the look in her eyes. It reminded him of the President eyeing a well done steak.

The Venusian grabbed the back of Maxwell’s head and pulled him to between her breasts. Purple flesh engulfed Maxwell’s bald head. Powerful arms cinched around him, squeezing her giant tits tighter around him.

Maxwell fought back. He tried punching but his hands either grabbed soft tit or the hard bulge of muscles. Kicking was useless as the alien’s powerful body easily absorbed his feeble strikes. He resorted to wiggling and squirming but the grip of the Venusian was as tight as a cunt.

Desperate, Maxwell tried biting. A sweet taste tilled his mouth. The Venusian shuddered. Ha! He might get out of this after all!

The need to sleep washed over Maxwell. No! He knew this feeling from his training: his ceratoid artery was being pinched! The Venusian was putting him to sleep between her lush purple breasts!

But why? Why not kill him or reduce him to ash? What terrible reason did the Venusian soldier have for subduing him? Where would he wake up?

Maxwell passed into unconsciousness and dreamed of purple pillows.

Jun 262020
 

Available Job:

Temporary Placement to Counter Employee Shortage
Location: No Can See You.
Species Required: Non-furry Bipedals.
Other Requirements: Sex Labor Guild Certification. Level Two Objectification Rating.
Duration of Assignment: Two one hour shifts with a .1 hour stretch break.
Payment: Twenty credits per customer plus free Archive access. (Minus Sex Labor Guild Fees)

Click Here to Accept Assignment.

Dazanna laid flat on her stomach. She rested her head on ring that framed her face. Blue hair fell to either side of her. The soft gel beneath her was cool and soothing on her naked skin. It was a little too cold for her nipples, but the smart-gel adjusted and warmed itself to a comfortable level.

She spread her legs and slipped her feet into the stirrups. A wall came down and encased her hips, sealing the top half of her body away from view. Metal encased the back of her legs from the top of her thighs down to her feet. The only thing visible was Dazanna’s round ass.

Something wet squirted onto Dazanna’s buttocks. She clenched at the sudden shock. There was a tingle as a beam disinfected her ass.

A light flickered beneath Dazanna. It was a monitor, just within arm’s reach. A menu for music appeared as well as access to the Archives.

Dazanna almost pressed the button for Crin-Pop but stopped. This job required utter stillness and Crin-Pop was awfully easy to dance to. She scrolled through the choices and picked one of the ambient tracks.

The gentle sounds of a beach surrounded Dazanna. A bird squawked. Waves crashed into a shore. Sonar buoys warned of approaching predators.

“Client has arrived,” a stern male voice announced.

Dazanna fought the urge to clench her ass. She was supposed to act natural and relaxed. Besides, if she tensed, eventually she would untense and that would disrupt the experience.

A weight pressed down on Dazanna’s exposed ass. The client was sitting down and using Dazanna’s butt as a headrest. Soft hair brushed her skin. The client wiggled a little as they got comfortable.

Dazanna wondered what the client was here for. This locale offered privacy booths guarded against outside surveillance. Some people use it to open secure communication lines to other privacy booths. Other clients engaged in embarrassing solo activities that were taboo to their culture. At least, that was what Dazanna read in to the service contract she signed. The point of privacy booths is that no one could really know what they were doing.

As for the living headrests, they were just an added luxury. Even when engaging in secret behavior, some people would rather lay their head on a nice ass.

Dazanna tapped on the computer interface and logged into the Archives. The pay was nice for a job where one got to lay down, but the real compensation was the free access. Dazanna loved history and the Archives were the best source. She did a query about the Alliance of Free Systems’ war with the Voyuz and browsed the list of articles.

The head on Dazanna’s ass moved. It was a sudden jerk, followed by pressure pushing down. The client was leaning back especially strong.

Dazanna wondered what gender the client was. The jerk had felt sexual. Could they be engaging in masturbation? Renting a privacy booth just to pleasure yourself seemed awfully frivolous.

The jerk happened again. The client’s head rolled from side to side. Dazanna felt high cheekbones press into one buttock and then the other.

Desire dripped from Dazanna’s smooth vussy and onto the cool gel. She had just been thoroughly fucked by a cyborg an hour ago but it didn’t matter. Wet heat simmered within her.

Dazanna took a deep breath. She was a headrest and nothing more. This was about the client’s desires, not hers. She opened an article detailing the Voyuz Declaration of Conquest and Fatal Grievances.

The client suddenly rose from Dazanna’s ass, only to fall back into it a second later. The head pressed down, almost as if the client’s body was enduring an intense sensation. Something slammed into the plastic casing of Dazanna’s left leg and there was a light pressure of squeezing. It felt like the client had reached for something to hold onto.

Dazanna wondered if the client was alone. Were you allowed to bring someone into the privacy booth? Maybe someone was fucking the client right now.

The urge to touch herself grew stronger. Dazanna’s arms were free in order to manipulate the monitor. The gel she was lying on was very adaptable. If she was careful, and patient, she might be able to slip her hand under her body and stroke her vussy. The client might never know.

Except they may. And if they did, then they would file a complaint. The establishment would forward the complaint to the Sex Labor Guild. There would be a review and a possible re-classification of her Objectification Rating. She might not be able to do this job again, which means losing a free source of Archive access.

The client’s head moved up and down. Poz, they were definitely fucking. There was no mistaking that rhythm.

“Fuck,” Dazanna swore. She returned to reading the history of the Alliance/Voyuz conflict and tried to ignore the ever-growing dampness of her vussy

Jun 252020
 

Available Job:

Short Term Tension Release
Client: Brin Kits, Human.
Pleasure Station Security Rating – A Class
Location: B Deck, Tactical Legal Programs, Office 37K
Species Required: Human, Banime or Jeline
Other Requirements: Possession of Vussy or Vussy facsimile. Ceta class breasts or greater. Be dressed as a Tomey Maid.
Duration of Assignment: .5 Hours.
Assignment start Time: 1630 Hours
Payment: 45 Credits for Sex Labor Guild Certified. (Minus Sex Labor Guild Fees) 20 Credits for Non-Sex Labor Guild Certified.

Click Here to Accept Assignment.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

The table shook as they fucked. Dazanna laid on her back with the client between her thighs. Each thrust caused the desk to shake and her tits to jiggle. The white vest she wore was open in the middle but sealed to her nipples with fabric adhesive. That meant that half of her tits were hanging out, but at least the vest covered most of the bite marks. The white turban she wore hung off the side of the desk along with most of her long blue hair.

The client grunted as he fucked. Cybernetic enhancements covered forty percent of his body. Three datajacks crowned his bald head. He had her ankles over each shoulder so her could run his hands up and down the white trousers she was wearing. The crotch had been ripped out earlier by the client about ten seconds after she arrived. He pounded away at her shaved sex with his rotating cybernetic dock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dazanna babbled in a low pitch voice that was a bad attempt at a Tomey accent. It seemed to work because the client groaned and fucked faster.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

Dazanna stared at the ceiling. Computer servers hung from racks. Lights blinked on and off as legal processes were being run in virtual courts. She wondered what courtroom cases were being debated and settled right now by artificial lawyer intelligences.

“You like that, don’t you?” the client said.

“I do,” Dazanna moaned and it was true. The dock rotations were quite nice. The vibrations the synthetic phallus emitted were even better. She especially appreciated how the vibrations pulsed with varying intensities. It was a damn good dock. She was going to leave it a great review when she rated the client later.

The client moaned louder. He was going to come. His hands gripped her trousers and tears appeared. This is why she bought all her work clothes from Wear-It-Once Machines.

“Fill me up, my Lord,” Dazanna said. The Tomey had Lords, right?

“Poz!” the client yelled. He froze as his cyber organ increased vibrations. A thick load of seed entered Dazanna’s vussy.

Dazanna was on the edge. She took the liberty of reaching between her legs and stroking her sex as the client pumped another load into her. A quick rub of her fingers and she passed over her own event horizon and into orgasm.

“Ohhh, thank you, Lord!” Dazanna moaned.

The client said nothing. He breathed heavily as his dock vibrated inside her.

Dazanna waited. This is the second time he had climaxed with her. Was he done now?

The client looked at her. There was a greedy smile on her face. No, he wasn’t done.

He pulled out of her. “Stand up, Maid.”

“Yes, my Lord!” Dazanna said with a low voice. Her round ass was happy to get off the hard desk. She sat up and hopped off the table. Seed spilled from her well-fucked vussy.

The client reached for her thigh. Dazanna squealed in a very non-Tomey way as he pulled her leg up and grabbed her ankle. She tipped to the side and caught herself on the desk top. The client returned her ankle to his shoulder. Her legs were in a perfect split with one foot pointed towards the ceiling and other foot firmly on the ground.

“A little warning next time, my Lord!” Dazanna said. Her turban fell off her head and rolled off the desk.

“Sorry, I was supervising an appeal,” the client said. “The plaintiff uploaded a denial-of-evidence program and I needed to make sure the subpoena firewalls held.”

Dazanna had no idea what any of that meant. The client placed his dock back into her vussy and the thick cybernetic phallus filled Dazanna’s slick sex. The vibrations resumed and she forgot what she was mad about.

The client resumed fucking her. In and out, in and out, he fucked like a machine. Her inner thighs took the brunt of the thrusts as his hard hips collided into them.

Dazanna came to the conclusion that he was going to fuck her for the full contract period. Cyborgs always got their money’s worth. Oh well, at least the client’s dock vibrated and twisted in wonderful combinations. The aching sensation of her stretched legs were eased by bliss inside her vussy. It would just be a matter of time before she climaxed again.

Dazanna’s held onto the desk and moaned with her best Tomey accent.

Jun 242020
 

Available Job:

Temporary Placement to Counter Employee Shortage
Location: Shame of Ghorath.
Species Required: Human or Human Passable.
Other Requirements: Sex Labor Guild Certification. Manual Endurance of at least Class Three. Non-allergic to Synth-Leather. Does not sweat fear.
Duration of Assignment: Four Hours.
Payment: Twenty-eight credits per customer plus tips. (Minus Sex Labor Guild Fees)

Click Here to Accept Assignment.

The yellow Client light glowed. Dazanna took another bite of her protein stick and stuffed the remainder in the throne pocket. She sat up straight and felt her red corset slip down. Her hefty breasts almost spilled out. Almost. She crossed her legs and positioned them to emphasize her thigh-high leather boots dangle in the air. Was that everything?

Oops, almost forgot her replica Alliance of Free Systems combat helmet. She picked it up off the floor and put it on. Her long blue hair spilled out from under the helmet in a very non-army regulation manner but that was fine. They didn’t pay for accuracy around here.

Dazanna pressed the button on her throne. The Client light switched from yellow to green. The heavy looking, but actually quite thin security door slid up.

In walked a large reptilian humanoid. White scales sparkled in the dim light. One eye was in a state of regeneration while the other eye was blue and very active. Muscles rippled with every step. Large hands curled into massive fists the size of Dazanna’s head. It was naked, with a smooth bulge marking the gonad sack between its legs.

It was a Vozuy, and the white scales marked it as one of the Warrior Clans. They were natural predators and their training and warrior culture made them unnaturally good killers. The galaxy regarded an army of them to be a catastrophic event.

“Pathetic,” Dazanna said. She let the words hang in the air.

The Vozuy stared at her with its one good eye. The lips pulled back to reveal a row of black teeth. The nostrils flared.

“Don’t you dare look directly at me!” Dazanna screamed.

The Vozuy averted his gaze. The gonad sack pulsed.

Dazanna stood up. The tiny red panties with the Alliance of Free Systems flag rode up her ass. She ignored it and keptwalking. The boots clicked on the floor as she approached the large alien. She pulled the red leather gloves tighter onto her hands.

Holographic insults, provided by the employer, floated behind the Voyuz. Good, Dazanna wasn’t that familiar with Vozuy culture. Dazanna read one out loud.

“You look weaker than an egg grub,” Dazanna said with disgust.

The Voyuz hissed. A seam appeared in his gonad sack. The tip of his member, crowned with spikes, emerged.

“No wonder the Alliance of Free Systems defeated you,” Dazanna said. “Your entire species reeks of cowardice and you are a prime example. You are about to, uh, molt your tail, at any moment.”

The Voyuz unclenched his fists. Long talons emerged from his hands. He slowly turned his head to directly stare at Dazanna. Tiny quills quivered on the top of his head.

Dazanna returned his stare. Thankfully, the helmet had an opaque visor that obscured her eyes. She really hoped she did not smell of fear like the job listing said. Still, he wouldn’t be the first client that tried to intimidate her.

“Oh, you going to do something, Snake Shit?” Dazanna challenged. Snake Shit wasn’t one of the suggested holographic terms, but Dazanna preferred a personal insult when a client tried to mess with her.

Slits along the Voyuz’s neck opened and flared. The alien looked down at the ground. He lowered his head in submission.

The spiked member fully emerged from his gonad sack. Dazanna swallowed at the sight of it. The thing was half a meter long. Spikes ringed the head of it.

“You filthy carrion eater,” Dazanna said, using another phrase from the floating holograms. “You want me to touch your disgusting sex organ, don’t you?”

The Voyuz nodded.

Dazanna reached down and grabbed the member, just under the spiked head. She squeezed much harder than she would with any other species. The dock pulsed. Her gloved hand stroked up and down. The tiny ridges on the member were abrasive but the glove protected her.

“Weak little cowards,” Dazanna said. “So weak that you have to humiliate yourselves in front of a human to climax. Unable to claim mates of your own, you resort to the degrading touch of a soldier from an enemy army.”

A low growl rose from the Voyuz’s throat. The hard member pulsed in Dazanna’s hand. He clenched his hands tightly, pressing his talons into his own scales.

“You probably want me to lick it,” Dazanna said.

The alien’s good eye flickered towards her. His lips wrinkled in a strange way. Was that intrigue or disgust on his face? It might have been confusion. Licking wasn’t listed as one of the services.

“Fine, just one lick you sad coward,” Dazanna said. “But only because I have no fear of you and your weak species!”

Dazanna bent over lowered her face to the Voyuz’s dock. It trembled in her hand. The head changed from white to blue. Dazanna stuck out her tongue and took one long lick around the head of his member.

It tasted sour. Dazanna didn’t bother to hide her disgust.

The Voyuz hissed. Dazanna quickly pulled her head back up. Using both hands, she squeezed as hard as she could and stroked.

“Are you going to climax, Snake Shit?”

The Voyuz looked at her and nodded. His tongue emerged from his lips and shook. He threw his head back.

The thick member erupted. Dazanna held on but leaned back as much as possible. Black seed shot high into the air. A miniature tractor beam in the ceiling activated and gathered the flying fluid and collected it for future disposal.

After a long minute of stroking, the last of the Voyuz’s seed dribbled out. Dazanna let go and the member retracted into his gonad sack. She resisted the urge to shake her aching hands.

“I’ve seen bigger loads,” Dazanna sneered.

The alien’s giant hand grabbed her by the helmet. The giant hand easily encompassed her skull. With one good squeeze, he could crack the helmet easily.

Dazanna froze as the Voyuz stared at her. The one good eye stared at her with savage intensity. The alien’s lips pulled back into a mockery of a smile.

“Good human,” the Voyuz said. His voice sounded like knives slapping together. “I will tip you when I get my clothes back. Snake Shit, ha!”

The Voyuz let go of Dazanna’s helmet and turned around. She watched the muscles ripple on his back as he left. The door closed the client light blinked off.

As Dazanna returned to her chair, her wrist computer beeped. Fifty extra credits had been transferred to her account. The Voyuz might be scary, but they tip well.

She waited for the next costumer.

Jun 232020
 

Dazanna awoke slowly. She opened her eyes to a dark room. Dreams of tentacles and laser dildoes struggled to stay with her but slipped away. Her cheek was sticking to the pillow. There was a pressure in her bladder that needed to be taken care.

It was another day on Pleasure Station Sigma.

Sensing she was awake, the video screen set in her bunk flickered to life.

“It is currently Airday, 10.21 hours. You have sixteen days of leasing left in your rental of this habitation cube. You have one message. It is from the Sex Labor Guild concerning upcoming certification training. Transferring to news feed in five, four, three-“

“Shut down feed,” Dazanna said. She rolled over onto her back. Long blue hair got in her way. The movement agitated her bladder. She really should go to the waste station.

Dazanna grimaced and touched the screen instead. Quickly, she logged into Waste-Watchers. A questionnaire appeared and Dazanna tapped away at the answers. Oh yes, she would be producing liquid waste. Fuck yeah, it would be soon.

On a hunch, she had the screen take a picture of her in bed. An image of Dazanna appeared. Her makeup was smeared. The tangled blue hair needed a brushing. Bite marks covered her left breast. She looked like she had been whoring all night and had yet to roll out of bed with her bladder bloated with bodily fluids.

It was a perfect image. Dazanna hit send.

Now came the hard part. Dazanna sat up and swung her legs over the bunk. The full bladder pulsed urgently. She stood up and hurried to the opposite side of her habitation cube where the waste station lied.

The waste station was a transparent chair of clear plastic. The inner bowl was lined with small cameras. A faint glow emitted from the seat, partially to provide a warm surface for Dazanna to sit and partially to illuminate the waste process for viewers.

Dazanna stood next to the bowl. She knew from experience that if she sat down, that she wouldn’t be able to hold. It was better to wait, even if it was uncomfortable.

A notification pinged from her wrist computer. Waste-Watchers had processed her availability and was awaiting clients.

Dazanna sighed and tried to think of anything else. What kind of gigs was she going to accept today? The bite marks would limit her breast-appeal but her ass was fine. Should she submit for spanking work? It paid well, but it would limit her availability to other jobs. How much did she want to do today?

Fuck, she really had to piss.

The wrist computer beeped. She had a client! He was willing to pay ten credits.

(4 of the credits would go to Waste-Watchers as a service fee. One credit will go to the renter of the habitation cube for equipment and bandwidth. Half a credit will go to the Sex Labor Guild as a union due. Four credits will go to Dazanna’s bank account.)

“Praise the Lords of Space,” Dazanna said. She sat down on the waste station.

A hologram materialized in front of her. The client wanted her to know he was watching. An image of a muscular man wearing the top half of a Station Security uniform. He furiously jacked his cock.

Dazanna smiled. Half of her Waste-Watchers clients worked in security. She made a mental note to access the Archives later and find out why.

The client watched. His eyes stared straight ahead. He was probably looking at a camera shot of her hairless vussy from one of the waste station cameras, but at the moment, it felt like he was staring right at Dazanna’s face.

Dazanna stared back. This wasn’t her first performance. Even though he was likely staring at her sex, she bit her lip and half-closed her eyes.

A moment later, she released the liquid she had been holding.

Halfway through the stream, the security guard released his essence as well.

It was a good start to Dazanna’s work day.

Feb 192020
 

Nemi was not a mermaid, though to be fair, I wasn’t sure what she was. She might have been Indian or Hawaiian, philosopher or ditz, grifter or independently wealthy or some combination I never guessed. But I knew for sure that she wasn’t a mermaid.

No mermaid would be able to grip so tightly with their legs. A mermaid’s sex should be smooth and hairless, not the bristly black briar patch Nemi had. No, a mermaid should smell of the ocean or maybe the beach while Nemi smelled of sex and apricot body wash.

Nemi never said she was a mermaid, but then Nemi never said much about herself. She asked of others. Everything was a mystery to her and she wanted to know it all. Some of it was straight forward, like where did viruses come from? Other questions were whimsical like why does gravity love us so much? A few questions were disturbing, like when she asked me what was the monetary value of a human life.

It would be easy to believe Nemi was a mermaid asking questions about the surface world. If she was a mermaid, it might explain why she would giggle incessantly as she straddled my hips and rode my cock. She had the hair of a mermaid, long and black with streaks of brown and gold. A mermaid might never say goodbye and instead just leave in the night.

But Nemi never said she was a mermaid. The only time she used the word was when it was my time to come. No matter the position and no matter the passion, Nemi would insist that I ejaculate onto her chest. She would laugh as the white pearls splattered against her large brown breasts.

“Mermaid style” she called it.

 Fiction Bite  Comments Off on Fiction Bite: Mermaid Style
Jan 292020
 

Thu-THUMP!

Chloe was on her cheek and knees. Stone clamps held her wrists somewhere between her shins. A rock stockade restrained her ankles. The position kept Chloe’s buttocks high in the air but she didn’t want to think about that.

Thu-THUMP!

She wanted to turn her head but it was impossible. The grubby little men used a weird paste to glue her long blonde hair to the hard stone floor. They made the paste themselves, out of their ejaculate and a certain blue mushroom. Chloe knew from experience that she would pull her hair out of her scalp before it ever let go of the floor.

There was a solvent that the small men used to dissolve the paste. The sharp smell suggested what it was made from, but Chloe didn’t want to think about that either.

Thu-THUMP!

Chloe winced and tried to focus on something else. Shapes lurked in the room but it was hard to make them out. The single lantern in the room pulsed a sickly orange light. Could that be a bound person over in the corner? Was there a cage to the left of her? She tried to remember what the room looked like when she was brought here, but all she remembered was that terrible machine that was now behind her.

Thu-THUMP!

Not for the first time and not for the last, Chloe cursed her boyfriend, Kyle. It was his idea to go camping. He was the one that insisted they get away from the main sites and set up someone out of the way. When she heard digging sounds beneath their tent, Kyle was the one who told her not to worry as he went back to fucking her. He is the reason she was on this floor right now.

Thu-THUMP!

Chloe wondered Kyle was now. When the ground gave out beneath them, they fell together in the darkness. She cried out to him as small hands grabbed her. He might have screamed too, but she wasn’t sure. Chloe was too busy fighting in vain as she was bound and taken away through tunnels small and large.

Thu-THUMP!

Chloe shuddered. She hoped Kyle got away. He would have told the park rangers what happened. They might not believe him, but they would go looking for her.

But would they know to check deep beneath the earth?

Thu-THUMP!

Chloe growled and hoped that Kyle didn’t get away. She had never seen her small captors with a male prisoner, but that didn’t mean they might not have any. Kyle deserved to be naked and trapped somewhere. He should be the one getting tormented, not her!

Click-Click-Click

Chloe sobbed with relief. The thick stone phallus in her ass slowly retracted. It pulled nearly all the way out of her puckered asshole. After being fucked for hours, the sudden absence of the massive dildo felt like heaven.

SPLOOSH! The phallus sprayed Chloe’s asshole full of a slippery liquid. Her ass struggled to hold it all until it could hold no more. Lube leaked from her ass and dribbled down her thighs.

Thu-THUMP! The machine went back to work. The stone phallus plunged deep inside of Chloe’s stretched asshole. It filled her and then stayed inside of her. The gears turned silently inside the machine, waiting until the next thrust cycle.

Chloe moaned. Her sex ached to be touched. Her ass ached to be empty again. Bound and plastered to the floor, neither was likely to happen until one of those strange small men returned. Even then, there was no telling what bizarre machine or cruel lust they would inflict on her next. She was at their mercy and from what she had seen, they had no mercy.

Thu-THUMP!

Jan 222020
 

I stopped in mid-thrust. Fucktoy whimpered beneath me. The hood prevented her from seeing my face. She almost spoke but she knew better.

My cock throbbed inside Fucktoy. Her pussy clenched in response.

I grabbed her throat. A smile spread across her lipstick-smeared lips. I squeezed and she gasped.

Fucktoy locked her legs around me. Her hips moved. Side to side, up and down, round and round with my cock trapped inside her sex.

I didn’t move. My body was a statute. Fucktoy humped me like a wild animal. It was a wonder my dick didn’t break off inside of her.

All the while, my fingers closed tighter around Fucktoy’s throat.

A gasp came from her lips. Fucktoy pulled hard on the chains securing her wrists to the headboard. Her mouth widened as she tried to suck in air.

But her hips kept fucking me so I kept squeezing.

The sound of our fucking filled the room. Fucktoy’s breasts shook and jiggled. My own hips began to bruise from the violent impacts.

And I kept squeezing.

Finally, Fucktoy’s hips stopped. I released her throat. As she sucked in huge gulps of air, I pounded her pussy with hard swift thrusts.