A daring outlaw on the lam takes a detour from her high-speed chase through the cosmos to try and ditch her pursuers on one particular blue marble. Unfortunately for her, hiding out on that planet comes at a high price.
“Come on, damn it! They’re going to catch us at this rate!” the rose-haired space pilot snarled at the dashboard of her craft before grasping at the controls and overriding her ornery automated copilot. Their lackadaisical approach to the dire situation that both of them were in – regardless of whether or not an unfeeling machine intelligence could process ‘imminent danger to existence,’ or if it even cared that both of them were about to perish in the vacuum of space – was about prove fatal.
“Ms. Esperanza, I assure you that I have set the ideal course for the nearest planet of refuge – per your instructions. We will arrive there in approximately fifteen minutes and– “
“If we’re not there in five, the only bits of us that will make it will be atmospheric dust!” Elia bit back at the voice emanating omnipresently into the cabin that was only otherwise occupied with flashing red lights and the mechanical complaints of a propulsion system failing rapidly. “.. and, in case we both die screaming in the next thirty seconds, I want you to know that I loathe that you’ve always called me ‘Ms. Esperanza’ – like, are we supposed to be comrades or– !”
The feisty space captain was rudely interrupted by another violent explosion that sent the entire craft onto its side. As the entire bridge of the ship quaked, Elia reached up and grasped onto the headrest of her cockpit seat to steady herself as the lightweight cruiser automatically returned to the preset orientation. She huffed with frustration and slid her skin-tight morphsuit-clad ass into the aging upholstery. With a flick and a couple of presses, she brought up the rear-facing camera and glared at the pursuit vehicles that were presently trying their damndest to make it so she wouldn’t be making it to her next birthday.
“I thought they wanted to capture me, not fucking murder me! I only wanted to borrow it for a while..” Elia bemoaned at the screen – and most definitely not to the A.I. who had been more of an irritant than a helping hand in this thirty light-year high-speed chase across the cosmos until pulling out of slipspace in some backwater galaxy in a last-ditch effort to lose those who would mean to kill her.
“Ms. Esperanza– “
“It’s ‘Elia’, you irritating little– ”
“.. I would recommend that you disengage from my autopilot mode and attempt to lose them by navigating across the nearby planet’s surface. There is a high likelihood of extricating yourself from the pursuers with this Class-B light craft, which should be able to maneuver within the planet’s atmosphere more efficiently than the Class-D ships you are intending to avoid.”
The cocky pilot pursed her lips, leaned back in the creaking command chair of the outdated spacecraft, and considered the course of action offered by the ship’s onboard A.I.
“Not bad, I suppose.. Y– yeah, let’s do that. You’re.. you’re good for something, after all..” Elia acknowledged as she brought a hand up to the top of the control stick and gave it a pat – though she wasn’t certain the ship was aware of this next-best-thing to a pat on the back. She had little time to consider the ramifications of a machine’s capacity for interpreting touch, however, because the planet’s iridescent blue surface was rapidly approaching.
Even with only one fully-functional engine, the welterweight craft sliced like butter through the atmospheres of pressure that anchored the planet into its rotation. She watched as the temperature gauge on the readout in front of her climb higher and higher before normalizing just as the puffy, vaporous collections of water molecules parted in front of her and gave way to a picturesque sight of a sprawling blue gem of an ocean.
“So, there’s life on this planet. That’s a start. Maybe I can just hide out here for a while..” Elia thought aloud as she yanked back the control sticks to cut the ship’s plummet toward the water’s surface. With a stomp on the afterburner, the space-travel equivalent of a sports sedan juddered for a moment before shooting off across the surface of the ocean beneath it. The outstretching landscape of endless blue horizons, if only for a moment, brought Elia to forget that she was being pursued by violent, vengeful, and plainly pissed off individuals who would soon be hot on her tail again. With a pivot of the rubber-texture control stick to the port side, the craft yawed over and the outstretched tip of the stabilization wing dipped into the surface of the water. Behind her, a jet wash wake of white-capped waves flared up off of the previously unbroken surface before relaxing down well after the jet-propelled spacecraft had roared past.
“You think I lost them yet?” Elia queried the ship’s computer.
“I am not detecting any nearby signs of life, but I would recommend a persistence in this course for at least several thousand miles,” the A.I. chimed back.
“Got’cha. You know, if we live through this, I think our partnership is going to be that much stronger.”
“I searched for your query term ‘partnership’ and found this definition– “
“Stop, stop,” Elia responded in riposte. The ship had, apparently, not been equipped to answer anything quite so distinctly human. Considering she was the one hinting at companionship with a bargain bin ship A.I., Elia wasn’t gutted over omitted feature.
Feeling the relief of an evasion well executed, Elia eased her white-knuckled grip from the controls and allowed her back to relax in the pilot’s seat. She cocked the craft back off of it’s maverick-esque wing-dipping yaw and steered the aircraft into a bank towards the growing landmass in the distance. Carving the ship over the water toward the beach, Elia watched the landscape below the Class-B space cruiser flip from a deep blue to a vibrant, lush green.
“Land-ho..” Elia condescended, wriggling her finger back and forth in the air in a celebration. Easing back on the controls, Elia careened the craft up into the cloud layer and began tapping away at gizmos and switches on the heads-up display. An untrained eye would’ve interpreted her prompt selections on the holographic interface as random, Elia knew. Thankfully, as a space ace, only some of her inputs were random. All the same, she managed to engage the terrain-scanning recon protocol in hopes of gathering crucial data on this foreign celestial body.
Skating at high-velocity through the thermosphere of the primitive planet yielded a wealth of reconnaissance data for the refugee star pilot. It was a tip of her trade to make sure you know as much as possible about any foreign planet before setting landing gear on it. Without a decently well-rounded picture of what kind of environment she would be immersing herself into, there would be higher chance for encountering compromising variables.
Unfortunately, the planet she was currently soaring across was riddled with those compromising variables.
“Simple combustion engines.. primitive infrastructure.. carbon-based emissions..” Elia listed off the potential complications that could complicate her temporary stopover as a space-faring refugee on this rock.
“It is likely that you will experience difficulties blending in effectively in this solar system. They have yet to advance beyond a Gungnir-class civilization,” bonged the informational dossier that the ship’s A.I. would regurgitate on cue when arriving at a foreign planet.
“Great. Take over the autopilot and touch me down somewhere with the highest probability for finding shelter,” instructed Elia, already lamenting the tribulations she would surely encounter down there on the surface. She reached down to the side of the seat and pushed back on the knurled knob that prompted the chair to recline automatically. Sufficiently comfortable, Elia kicked her feet up onto some inconsequential menagerie of bells and whistles – it’s not like she needed to know what all of them do, anyway – and reclined in the command deck seat that fit her shapely backside like a glove at this point, many years into their service together.
“Wake me when we get there,” Elia began before pausing to deliver a sardonic punch to her order, “buddy.” That out of the way, she reached back behind her voluminous head of pastel pink hair, linked her fingers, and closed her eyes while relaxing into them.
“Aye-aye, Ms. Espe– “ the ship A.I. stopped short. Elia opened one eye inquisitively for a moment to wait for the logical, calculating conclusion to her robotic companion’s response. None came. Most starship captains – especially ones flying solo, like Captain Elia Esperanza did – exchanged their A.I. infrastructure every seventy-thousand light years of travel. The only time you ever heard about ‘rogue A.I.’ committing some kind of atrocity aboard luxury cruise liners or orbiting research facilities were when the artificial sentience was given too much human sensory input. Naturally, all of the personality the construct would absorb over time engendered a sentience decidedly less than artificial.
Elia opted to not tread that possibility yet by shutting her eyes once again and drifting off to sleep.
“We have arrived, captain,” trilled the lifeless voice of the ship. Elia felt thankful for the helpful, considerate interstellar companion that she had with her. Not only did it give her a wake-up call, it did it microseconds before sending a spine-shattering quake up the bow of the craft as the autopilot dug landing gear into terrestrial soil.
“Fuck! Y– yeah, thanks..” Elia said as her rude awakening subsided, tapering off from the rumble into a humming vibration of crippled engine systems, “.. dick.”
“Upon thorough analysis of the infrastructure, terrain, layout, population density, and sampling from the local intranet spiderwebbed throughout this municipality, I have determined that this would statistically be the most likely place for you to find shelter,” droned the ship. Elia tuned out the computer-generated voice about halfway into its diatribe and was preparing to disembark the craft. With a gentle ‘woosh’ of air as the door slid out of the threshold, she strode into the cramped, closet-sized airlock that led out of the rear bay doors to the ship.
“Send me out – wait, you’d tell me if the planet didn’t have breathable air, right?” Elia hesitated before having the ship A.I. execute her command to depressurize the chamber and allow her off of the craft.
“That is in my programming, captain,” responded the disembodied voice with a tinny chirp.
Elia nodded, which seemed to trigger the all-seeing construct to carry out her instruction. With a room-filling cloud of gaseous mist, the shoulder-to-wall gym locker of a room backed off on the pressure valve, securing safe passage into the relatively unknown landscape. The bright daylight slipped through the widening crack of the exterior bisected hatch, temporarily blinding the unprepared extraterrestrial. With as much confidence as she could muster up, Elia catwalked out from the retractable gangplank that had extended out to ferry her down to the planet’s surface. This part always got her heart racing a bit. There was no telling what kind of wonderful, wacky, organic creations that the cosmos would generate on any given planet in any given galaxy. The beauty of the universe was boundless, and as Elia crunched down into the blades of grass just off of the walkway, she was eager to soak in the sights.
“Is that a fucking space alien!? Holy fuck, she’s fucking hot, too. Just like in the comics. Maybe she’s here to repopulate her species – I’m sure I could help the slut out with that shit..”
Unfortunately, her welcome to this planet wasn’t quite as spectacular. She would’ve opted for a more governmental greeting, complete with weapons aimed at her, over whatever that was. Just to the side, uncomfortably close to the ‘space alien,’ stood a lanky, scrawny looking beanpole of a boy who was unabashedly ogling her curvaceous chest. Something about his stare unsettled her, but her getup was form-fitting to say the least, so she did her best to shrug it off and begin her spiel.
“Greetings. I am not from your planet. I am here seeking refuge fr– “
Admittedly, Elia had gone through this rigmarole many times before. As a seasoned spacetraveler and starfighter, she often found herself crash-landed on strange worlds with strange occupants. The routine beseechment had grown dry. She delivered it with this glassy, unfixed stare with her feet together and her hands at her side. Unassuming, non-threatening, and as unintimidating as can be was the best approach she could take. That’s why she didn’t notice her one-man welcoming party reaching up to cop a feel of her immense rack. Her focus pared down from some spot on the horizon and zeroed-in on the fingers sinking into her jumpsuit to heft one of her monster mammaries
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Elia snapped, swatting away the hand groping her. Her assaulter, meanwhile, appeared to be utterly unphased.
“So, you’re not from this planet, huh?” choked the boy. Elia looked down at him flatly for a moment, and couldn’t help but notice how the pair of them were a picture of opposites. Her skin, fair and smooth, where his was pock-marked with blemishes and the scars those blemishes left behind. In contrast to the undyed pink of Elia’s mane, the native boy’s hair was a drab hue of brown that appeared to borrow it’s pigmentation from the soil the ship had landed on. Misplaced as it was, his stare, however – still latched on her buxom, well-endowed chest – was icy blue to match hers.
“N– no, I’m not. I was being pursued by a group of bounty hunters seeking to apprehend or eliminate me, and – “ this time, the whelp sunk his fingers right around the same squishy breast closest to him. While Elia recoiled in sheer horror at his moxie, the teen copped a five-finger feel of the taut chest ornament of the first ‘space alien’ he ever had the pleasure of encountering.
“Listen here, you little punk,” Elia growled, whipping a hand past her thigh and unholstering the blaster pistol secured there. She nestled to business end of the phaser in between the beady eyes of her accosting molester.
“W– wait, wait! Wait! You can stay here, you can stay here! My folks are out of town, and the house is all to me– I mean, the maids still visit daily and Arrondo is in his quarters, but – !” the snivelling brat fired off in rapid succession, bargaining with the suddenly intimidating interstellar visitor so she didn’t hollow out the gap between his eyebrows.
“Oh, well, alright then,” Elia responded. She stowed the laserarm back in her hip holster and crossed her arms under her bust. Her elbows cramming her tits closer together didn’t do anything but encourage more staring, but she looked past it – after all, this kid was going to give her a place to sleep. “Can you show me inside?”
The pimple-speckled dweeb turned tail without a word and began marching across the lawn. It was only after Elia began after him that she came to realize that she had touched down in what appeared to be the grounds behind what a Gungnir-class civilization would commonly referred to as a ‘McMansion,’ for reasons beyond her understanding of the context. She smirked at the coincidence – she had studied about this subset of human life-forms existing a dichotomous relationship between the fortunate and the less fortunate. Her understanding of the environment would dictate that the barely-legal boy she was following up into the estate house was subject to nearly all of the privileges afforded by society. Suffice it to say that he’s probably a real shit head.
After crossing up the back lawn and onto the lido area bordering a crystalline blue pool of water, Elia and the yet-unnamed boy arrived at the rear doors of the house. She followed him through them and crossed under the cavernous, vaulted ceilings of the house foyer.
“M– my bedroom is just up here and around the corner, if you’ll follow me..” piped up boy in front of her.
Elia nodded, knowing full well he couldn’t tell. Might as well keep the little jerk guessing, she mused. With a soft ‘swish’ as her thick, morphsuited thighs slid across one another as she strode, she shadowed the boy while he trudged up the winding staircase and onto the second floor landing. At the top of the stairs, he paused and shook his head as if remembering something he forgot. She watched as he looked back over his shoulder and extended an arm to point down the hall.
“It’s down there, last door on the left. I’ll be right behind you.”
Elia narrowed her gaze at the boy, unsure of why she was to walk ahead of him. Reassured by the fact that she could reduce any hostiles to molten dust with her sidearm, she nodded and walked past the boy to the door he indicated. After passing him by, she heard the footfalls of his own pace behind her. It was at that moment she realized that the only reason he would want to trail her and not the other way around was for the fact that her nanofiber bodysuit came in two pieces: one leotard-esque top that covered her chest, arms, and threaded between her thighs to cover her more sensitive regions, then another set of thigh-high leggings that only came up to half-way. With the upper suit wedged between her lush ass like a g-string, the reason he wanted to follow her was obvious. Her entire, voluptuous ass was on display.
This kid had an unending supply of cheekiness, and she was ashamed that she had fallen for it. She was supposed to be the daring space-faring adventurer, here, not being led around by the nose by some snot-nosed brat so he could get an eyeful of her ass.
Once again, she opted to ignore it and enter the kid’s bedroom, as instructed. Soon after her, the door shut as he entered his domain behind Elia. There, she plopped down into a musty beanbag chair and watched as the boy providing her a roof for the evening relaxed onto his bed.
“What’s your name?” she queried.
“Chad,” replied the boy who was idly picking at one of the white-heads on his face that had seen enough damage already. She pitied Chad from five years from now.
“Thank you for letting me sleep here, Chad. You’re.. kind,” she offered by way of thanking her gracious host, but struggled to get the ‘kind’ part out, remembering that his hands had already been on her.
“Yeah, well, nothing is for free here on Earth, b– bitch.”
Elia arched her eyebrows at Chad. His voice trembled when he squeaked out that threat. She knew he had to have been saving that one.
“‘Nothing is for free,’ Chad?” Elia repeated, crossing her arms indignantly
“Yeah. If you’re ‘gonna stay here, you have to give me something in return,” retorted the bold little twit. He returned her gesture with a cross-armed, fixed state of his own. He seemed to gain confidence in his ultimatum after mewling out more of it.
Elia knew Chad had no idea about the interstellar treatises in place to protect the indigenous people of civilizations below Mjolnir. Chad couldn’t have possibly known about the A.I. superintelligences that kept close watch over Gungnir-class civilizations like his, controlled by the ruling government body of a galactic unity of the major cosmic superpowers. He definitely didn’t know that if she had put a hole through his head, Elia would’ve been before an interplanetary tribunal before the tip of her blaster cooled off. He had no idea about the power he held over her, being a foreign invader. She sucked up her indignation and spoke with a steely expression on her face.
“What kind of ‘something,’ Chad?”
“I ‘wanna see your pussy– you have a pussy, right?”
“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” Elia clapped back, with an instinct to draw her blaster crossing her mind.
“Y– yeah, if you ‘wanna stay here, you have to show me your pussy,” Chad fired back.
Instead of drilling a hole into his primitive brain with a gun, she did it with her stare. She pierced his gaze with her own, an angry flare of her nostrils reflecting back at her in his pair of baby blues. The kid wasn’t kidding – and he had no idea that she had little wiggle room but to comply with his demands. She was the immigrant – the refugee – and she was fleeing from a hostile foreign body up beyond the stars. She didn’t have a leg to stand on. She watched Chad’s smug face light up with excitement as she slipped both hands between her bare thighs and spread her legs.
Elia hooked a finger under the corner of the material between her legs and pulled the suit to the side, exposing herself as Chad instructed. Much to the horny teen’s obvious glee, Elia’s post-humanoid race had long since evolved beyond the need of protective hair surrounding their sex organs. In Chad’s archaic terminology, this meant that Elia’s snatch was ‘shaven’ bald and bare. Elia sat there on the beanbag chair that was stained with sweat and who-knows-what other fluids, legs splayed and tender pussy exposed, and fantasized about getting back into her ship and having a word with her A.I. companion who assured her this was a ‘statistically most likely’ locality to provide her shelter. Half-rogue fucker that it was probably knew this little pervert would do this to her.
“Cool..” Chad whispered, eyes glued on what Elia assumed was the first ‘real life’ pussy that he had ever seen.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen one in real life..” breathed the boy, rummaging around at his waistline. Elia kept her suit pulled to the side as she eyed Chad quickly undoing his pants.
“What are you doing?” she asked warily, knowing that this development could not bode well for her.
“You showed me your pussy; you’re a slut – I’m ‘gonna fuck you.”
Elia was stunned. Who did this little jerk think he was? She was chased across the galaxy by an infamous band of interstellar mercenaries hired specifically for their reputation as able-bodied killers. Now she was a ‘slut,’ and he was going to ‘fuck her’? She was hardly a ‘slut,’ she was simply acquiescent to the regulations outlined by the galactic bylaws dictating that –
As it were, protests and bargaining that went on in Elia’s head didn’t do much to dissuade Chad from brandishing his cock from his pants and clambering off the bed and onto the beanbag chair with her.
“Chad, I thank you for inviting me into your home, and–”
“Shut up, bitch!” Chad snapped back, them delivered the palm of his hand to Elia’s face. While her face flicked to the side and a spray of spit escaped from her lips, she silently wondered if galactic prison for the rest of her natural life was preferential to this douchebag having his way with her. “You’re my guest, now you’re going.. going t– to take this dick, s– slut!” Without waiting for her response, Chad called up a fat glob of slime from his throat and spat down onto Elia’s exposed cunt with a ‘pthew!’ and rubbed the head of his pre-cum coated cock back and forth in the gooey lubricant.
Elia pursed her lips and gave Chad a stone-faced look – even though his attention was fixed on pushing himself into her. She breathed in deeply, leaned onto the cushioned side of the chair and propped her chin up under her hand. If the was going to be the way it was, at least he was getting it over with now.
Chad thrust forward into Elia’s snatch without any resistance from her. His spit-coating provided ample grease for him to stick his prick up into her. Elia winced a bit, cracking her ambivalent façade as her inexperienced ‘lover’ powerdrilled his dick into her hole presently being used as a form of her payment for the night’s stay. With her legs spread in more of an accepting than a submitting gesture of missionary lovemaking, Elia felt his nubile rod ram down into her with the graceless rush that she’d expect from an inexperienced sex partner with a penchant for treating women like he sees in Earth pornos. His initial thrust into her was admittedly bittersweet, considering the fact that the loathsome adolescent had a considerable package. Although overwhelmed with the mild uncomfort of obligation fucking, Elia was unable to keep a moan from escaping her lips Chad saw fit to stretch her pussy to accommodate his respectable tool. This chink in her armor apparently emboldened Chad to further probe how much he could get his extraterrestrial plaything to do.
“Take your tits out, you space-slut!” Chad grunted, not able to devote much attention to matters other than pistoning her pussy. Elia rolled her eyes and went along with it, reaching up with her free hand and tugging at the cleavage-revealing ‘neckline’ of her suit. It didn’t take much effort to allow her encumbered mammaries to spring free of their confines, and after a mild yank, they did. Her GG cup-size breasts burst out around the skin-tight material and gelatinously wiggled before hanging against her chest in a ‘titty drop’ to rival any of the terrestrial camwhores on this rock.
Chad studied his new toys with a fixed stare, all the while humping away and driving his dick in and out of the space alien fuckhole that he was busy claiming as property of Earth. Elia, meanwhile, returned to resting on her chin and blankly staring off into the void, waiting for this ordeal to be over so she could sleep to pass the time before she could take off of this forsaken, depraved planet and never return. Unable to drift into la-la land for long, she was forceably returned to the present moment when Chad saw fit to reach up, pinch her stiff nipple with two fingers, and twist. Twist hard.
“OUCH! You little fucker, how fucking dare yo– “ Elia’s words were cut short when four fingers were roughly jammed past her lips and down the back of her throat. Unprepared for this turn of events, her throat spasmed and a deep-seated threatening gurgle rumbled up from her belly.
“Shut up, hoe, you’re my bitch, got that?” Chad sneered back in response, wiggling his fingers around in her throat that was convulsing rapidly to try and expel the alien invasion worming their way down it. Chad stuttered out every heavy-handed insult, as if recalling the script from a porn video, but was getting better every go-round. For the time being, though, the twisted deviant sounded like the gangbanging, rough-fucking thug in every interracial skin flick from this mound of congealed space debris. Elia had disabled her disembodied robotic companion’s history function when she searched that particular aspect of the internet on this planet.
Much to Elia’s contempt, the bucktooth dweeb also managed to fuck like he was doing a bad impression of those thugs whose cocks she would prefer greatly over the prick haphazardly hammering at her hairless snatch. Every time the kid would manage to provide even a modicum of pleasurable pounding, he would ruin it all by thrusting his hips in on a time signature that made the complicitous ‘hoe’ shudder to think of what he looked like on the dance floor. Or, whatever these apes do in their courtship rituals. Any potential pleasure that was to be had from the kid’s engorged dick was snuffed out before it could begin – but still laying a sound smackdown on her crotch that she knew was going to leave her walking funny.
Upon delivering his hand from her throat in a gesture sure to usher in a new dawn of trans-species relations, Chad had another demand of her. Elia, at this point, was along for the ride. Participating in this hapless nerd’s sex fantasies was a way to pass the time when she would have otherwise been cowering from the encroaching band of mercenaries that were surely looking for her and monitoring chatter all across this globe for any sign of disturbance. To her chagrin, the tactical move was to keep this boy’s balls drained and as incapacitated as possible – and to never heed the advice of her ship A.I. on refugee housing ever again.
“I ‘wanna fuck those udders of yours, slut!” Chad announced not unlike a child demanding the latest toy off the shelf at a big-box store.
“They’re there, aren’t they?” Elia remarked. Her quickness to respond with a cloying, unctious tone drew the ire of the 18-year-old well on his way to a lifetime of chauvinism.
“I don’t want to hear that lip from you, bitch,” barked her barely legal lover. Her punishment came swinging down across her enormous bust, the size of which rivaled the circumference of her abuser’s head. Elia winced when she felt him smack a stinging red outline of his hand onto the milky flesh of her well-endowed chest, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of any more acknowledgement than that. Seemingly satisfied with his efforts to keep his bitch in line, she watched as Chad lifted himself over her – her still being in the lazy missionary on his grungy bean bag – and push his glistening cock up in between the valley between her tits. Chad immediately fell into a rhythm as he humped her chest pillows, and thankfully his abysmal sense of a well-paced humping session didn’t affect her nearly as bad while he fucked her funbags instead.
While the ravenous teen arhythmically bounced his hips back and forth, using Elia’s tits for his self-indulgent self-love, her nonchalant, wake-me-when-this-is-over type of expression seemed to perturb the prepubescent pervert. Mid-thrust, Chad halted his quickfire titfucking.
“You there, cunt? You should be, like, moanin’ or something, right? This shit is good for you, isn’t it?” Chad asked. Elia suspected that the question mark inflections on the ends of his sentences were less of a query and more of a prompt for Elia to moan over Chad raking his dick across her flesh. It was one thing to bring her breasts into this obligation-driven lovemaking. It was another thing entirely for her to expect her to blurt out fake moans to compliment it all. At least Chad obliterating the former tight, tautness of her gaped-out pussy meant that she had something in her and not squelching in her slobbery cleavage.
“Y– yeah, no. Not going to happen. Just be glad you can get your rocks off using me,” Elia countered with a tone she felt was conciliatory enough to disarm Chad’s expectations. Her own expectations, however, were tragically misplaced. She found this out when Chad responded via gripping a hand around her throat. The scrawny dweeb was stronger than he looked, and he demonstrated via threatening to crush her windpipe. Elia fought to draw in air, and with her head held in place the next smack spanked down onto her flesh left the ghostly imprint of four fingers burning on her face.
“You whore always like the rough stuff” Chad declared with a high-pitched peal of laughter erupting out of his mouth. “You’re just try’na make me do it! Have it your way..” The hand around Elia’s throat slipped away, which was a relief until she felt her woefully misguided, horribly misinterpreting ‘considerate’ sex partner begin to pull his knees forward, squirming over her tits. His knees sunk into the plush, malleable cushion of the seat on either side of her neck. Straddling her face, Chad positioned his cock – a pecker could rival any wine bottle in circumference – up against her mouth.
“Time for the throatfucking you hoes love so much. Open up, bitch, or.. or I’ll smack ‘ya again.” His voice faltered at the end. She heard it, and figured that he must’ve run out of lines ripped off the script of a piece of hardcore pornography.
Elia watched the gears turn behind his eyes as his own narrative of how much of a ‘whore’ she was and how ‘whores’ love to be roughed up sprouted hairline fractures. Reluctantly, she dropped her lower lip.
“Can’t get my dick in there, bitch. Wider!” Chad jeered down at her. This time, he didn’t trust her to do as she instructed. She felt him reach up, take a fistful of pink hair, twist, and punch back into the plush velour upholstering hard enough that Elia felt a couple dozen fibers of hair snap away from her scalp. At the same time, he pulled down on her chin with the other hand and barged his wine bottle girth in between the fuckhole he made for himself. Elia felt her lips stretch so wide that they clung to his shaft through sheer friction. Inch after inch of this kid’s cock piledrove down into her gurgling throat, all the while Elia stared up at him with a panic-stricken expression. If Chad was so apathetic about his regrettable dicking technique, this kid better realize that she needed to breath every now and then.
With both hands full of her locks – hair that might as well just as soon be handles for her head instead of the carefully maintained part of her style – Chad settled into a throat-reaming rhythm where each jut forward of his hips called up an unseemly croak up out of Elia’s throat.
“Your pussy got loose after a while, but this hole ain’t ‘gonna quit!” exclaimed the gleeful teen. Elia was happy for him and his discovery. She, meanwhile, was trying to draw in as much air as possible through her nose when Chad reared back for another gut-punching thrust (this time from the other side). Inside of the first dozen thrusts, Elia had blew a waterfall of frothy throatslop around Chad’s girth that spilled down over her chin and flowed like a river down between her enormous, mountainous tits
“Gl-urch, gl-urch, gl-urch..” gurgled the victim of Chad’s relentless skullfuck. Fistfuls of her hair were tightened and twisted. Chad’s nuts twatted the outside of her throat while his dick battered the inside of it. Reifying her worst fears, Chad didn’t seem to know or care if his brutal facefuck was starving Elia’s brain of oxygen. The warning that fell out of his mouth next introduced new complications, but alievated the fear that after evading bounty hunters, Elia would die getting facefucked by a teen boy on a primitive planet.
“I’m ‘gonna cum, I’m ‘gonna cum..” panted Chad after a remarkable one-and-a-half minutes rutting away at her face. The first rope of nutbutter sprayed down her esophagus and rolled effortlessly down into her belly. Another dense shot joined that one. They kept coming, and didn’t show any signs of slowing by the time she felt Chad gunking up the tube he was using to get himself off. Up on the surface, the boy using her throat to relieve himself of his seed gripped onto the base of dick and began to reel it back. Elia could feel her throat filling up like the neck of a water bottle at the fountain with each muscle tense of Chad’s nuts blasting another layer of ejaculate.
With a jerk of his hips, Chad yanked back the last couple inches of dick from her pipe and left Elia there with her mouth open in her best imitation of a cum-filled birdbath. Swallow after swallow, she chugged back the backed-up manbutter funnelling into her tummy. Chad, however, was not done. While she drank down the contents of his nuts, he was creating his masterpiece painted in cum all across Elia’s endowed chest. Continuing to spurt an unnatural amount of seed both inside and onto the outside of her body, her one-man cumbather caked her neck and cleavage in a fresh layer of buttery DNA.
Elia glanced up at the boy with a reproachful, almost pitying look on her face while one more swallow cleared the cache of cum clogging her throat.
“Get it all out.. “ she sighed after cleansing her palate, feeling more like a masturbatory aide than ever before. It was about that time that she got a noseful of the truly putrid stench of her beady-eyed abuser’s brand. Elia wrinkled her nose, screwed up her face, and raised her eyebrows. She felt like her nose hairs were burning from being within a dozen-acre radius of this boy’s cum.
“Oh my god, that is ..” Elia began before casting her gaze up at the crooked grin leering down at her. She closed her eyes and found herself once again regretting not just taking her chances up there in the exosphere. If she had gotten shot down, at least she could’ve faked her death and gotten picked up by a passing freighter. Notes for next time, she supposed.
“.. heavenly.” Finishing that sentence somehow felt like the dirtiest thing she had endured over the past agonizing half-hour. Chad, however, had something in mind that would be challenging the top spot on the long list of shameful acts.
“Lick it,” Chad said.
Elia said nothing, looking up at the object of everything that is wrong on this planet. She knew the boy was expecting the behavior of the pornstars he would most likely be satisfying his urges to the thought of instead of utilizing his alien RealGirl sex doll. The fire-eyed stare of pure malevolence flared up on her visage while she was instructed by her porn-obsessed overlord to lap up his cum just like he’d seen on his computer screen. When he had offloaded his batch of swimmers into her throat, he had managed to inject them deep enough into her throat that she hadn’t had the misfortune of tasting the stuff. Licking it meant she was about to get up-close-and-personal with the fetid glue.
She cupped her breasts with both hands as best she could, feeling her digits disappear into the fatty folds of her love handles, and slowly unstuck them from each other before Chad’s cum dried and glued them together. Strands of spiderwebbing yellow-tinted jizm laced back and forth in her cleavage like a lattice made exclusively out of foul-smelling semen. Elia dipped her head in slowly, knowing at least she could get a tongue coating in the stuff and be done with this whole ordeal. Fortunately for Chad, he was treated to an unblinking stare of slutty reverence for his spunk as Elia slid her tongue down the first inch or two of her cleavage and gathered up a healthy gulp of his love juice onto it. Elia, staring daggers into the eyes of this kid she’d just as soon kill as fuck again, swallowed as quickly as she could manage. Before the rancid batch of cum slid down the back of her throat, she could practically feel her tongue being stained perhaps permanently by Chad’s cummy musk. Elia shuddered, nearly retched, but managed to keep it all down.
“Shower is down the hall.”
As Elia suspected, no amount of showering could wash away the stank that had apparently permeated like a toxin down into her skin. Even as she cleared away the shower curtain and dried herself off with a towel, she could taste her own breath. Chad’s fetid load had stained her tongue with the reminder of what she had reduced herself to in the name of keeping the peace on this planet – and keeping her head in the process by not being discovered by those who would mean to execute her for her crimes.
She didn’t bother donning the jumpsuit that laid in a heap on the bathroom floor. What of Chad’s load that had dribbled onto the advanced nanomatrix of self-healing armor cells had stained the off-white color with the noxious yellow his cum bore. Chad needed to see a physician, Elia figured – after what war crimes he had committed on her body that day, maybe she needed to pay a visit herself. Perhaps this olive branch would keep Chad out of the house and leave Elia in peace. She resolved to bring it up after she slept off what would easily be going down as a day she didn’t want to remember.
A waddle in her step as she plodded out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her bust and draping below the bottom curve of her butt, Elia hobbled her way back down the hall towards Chad’s chambers. The combination of apathetic fucking technique and Chad’s girthy endowment had left Elia unable to walk in any semblance of a straight line. Hand holding the towel aloft, she lumbered her half-functional set of thunder thighs back into Chad’s bedroom and was immediately greeted by the barrel of a blaster nestling between her fine-plucked brows.
“Remain still, Elia Esperanza. You will be transferred into our custody and loaded into our transport for shipment. Please do not make this more difficult than it needs to be,” belched the grizzled, scarred face of the bounty hunter.
“You have got to be kidding,” Elia moaned, having to keep her desire to flail around and stamp her feet with frustration of how unfair this turn of events was so she didn’t get her brain aerated.
“I can assure you that I am not kidding, Ms. Esperanza,” responded her captor.
“It’s Elia..” whispered the subdued space captain as she flicked her eyes over to Chad, who appeared to be fiddling with something in his grubby mits with his back to her and noticeably not incapacitated as was typically standard procedure for this brand of hired gun.
“This thing is fucking cool..” giggled the boy as he idly paced around in a circle. In Chad’s hands was Elia’s communicator. Her eyes flashed between the device, Chad, and the barrel of the gun she could see directly down the bore of.
Elia closed her eyes and exhaled sharply.
“Pinged the comms?” Elia said to the bounty hunter with her eyes shut, having known the answer before she asked.
“You got it. This boy will be rewarded handsomely for his part in capturing the infamous Elia Esperanza. He also clued us in on some other traits of yours, too..” trailed his voice.
“Other traits?” Elia asked, opening her eyes.
“You know, we make a considerable amount more money selling sex slaves to rich barons in the Kalenarr sector.. according to your boyfriend over here, you make for quite the capable ‘cum slut’, as he described.”
The bounty hunter’s shit-eating grin only widened.
“Looks like you’re going to audition for me and my boys when I get you back to the ship. Can’t be selling units without the proper quality control, can we?”
Elia would’ve taken the hole in her head to lunge for Chad and strangle him right then and there, if not for the fact that soon she would be the plaything and expendable sex object of some interstellar strip mining tycoon. It was either that, or death. The choice wasn’t an easy one to make, and she had the option of taking the escape route aimed at her head or living out the rest of her natural-born life as a sex slave.
She drew in a sharp breath to steel herself, and then she decided.