Kriss ignored her. “Why not? The readings can be uploaded into the oracle’s repository for analysis. I’d be interest in your opinion of her elasticity.”
“Analysis...” she stuttered. More questions buzzed in her busy mind. What kind of planet was Gott? Why did Hezara need it?
“For educational purposes.” The Gotti nodded in agreement. “We respect the privacy of our clients. You have to appreciate, you are a rarity on this planet. To have this information accredited to my clinic... the prestige.”
“Quite,” said Jago.
“I’m not a thing,” Shayla snapped.
Jago spun her around to face him. Without pausing, he leaned over her, pressed his mouth over hers, and kissed her so hard, her air was sucked out of her lungs. Her arms dropped to her sides and her heart skipped a beat or two. Against her hip rested the bulge in his pants. So hard. So demanding. She wanted it in her. All the talk of sex had infected her with lust; that was her real affliction, not some made-up illness.
He released her. There was a notable sparkle in his eyes. “Would you like me to masturbate you? For the records, of course,” he said, smiling. Jago was incorrigible. His suggestion should be offensive, but it wasn’t. She squished her thighs together.
How easily she was sold by an orgasm. How needy and demanding she was in her own way. Her sex ruled her too much. But, then, maybe if she came spectacularly, she could use
the outcome to her advantage
She looked over to the oracle. “Alright. On one other condition. Afterwards, I’ve some privacy to... compose myself. This is very emotional for me. I want to walk out of here looking respectable.”
Kriss shook his head. “These humans and their strange feelings. She fucks without shame, then wants dignity.”
“If that is what she wants.” Jago shrugged. “Then I’m happy to help her.”
The Gotti was enthusiastic. “I shall set up the monitors.” She turned her attention to an instrument panel, her fingers danced across the keys. Behind her, the tail swung like a pendulum. Shayla didn’t want to think about its purpose. She was starting to suspect it wasn’t a tail in the conventional sense; it seemed to have a mind of its own.
Jago cupped Shayla’s hot cheeks in his hands and lowered his lips. “I’m glad you’re not ill.”
“So am I,” she whispered.
Moving closer, Kriss skated his hand down her spine, across her ass and under, then he lifted his finger high inside her. She rose up onto tiptoes and her legs started to quiver. She closed her eyes, tipped her head back and decided to do nothing, let them taunt her, have their fun. The Gotti could look on with her scanners and devices. It was all a game, wasn’t it? A means to an end for all of them. Her nestors had their thrills, the Gotti acquired some precious data, and with luck, Shayla would have a moment alone with the oracle.
Somebody, probably the eager Kriss, bent her over the table and spread her legs. One pair of masculine hands held apart her ass cheeks, exposing all of her to the observing medic, while another purposeful hand dove between her thighs. The firm tip of a thumb circled her clit, while a long finger, although not as dexterous as the Gotti’s, slipped into her drenched pussy. The two men, one on either side of her, demonstrated their new acquired skills in finger fucking a willing human. Any humiliation was drowned out by their enthusiasm to see her orgasm, as if it was their lust that was on display and not hers.
She moaned and reached out to find the edge of the table. She gripped it, clinging on to the rigid frame. The hands got faster and now, her puckered entrance was targeted, too. Fingers thrust in and out, and they rubbed her sensitive spots and tender clitoris with unnecessary force. But, shockingly, the harshness seemed necessary. She liked the rough use and the shame of succumbing to it. Flattened underneath her, her breasts started to spasm—a familiar accompaniment to her clenching pussy. She curled her toes, sensing the orgasm was impending, and nothing now would prevent it.
She writhed, and ignoring the lack of comfort in her surroundings, she imagined her dream again, the one she thought she’d forgotten. It came racing back to life in her mind. Men, countless men, and just her, the one human to satisfy their urges. She was their prize. Yes, she had power to satisfy all those men. She must never doubt otherwise.
“That’s it,” Kriss urged her, his thumb inside her bottom.
“She’s flooding.” Jago plunged three, maybe four fingers deep inside her pussy. “She’s coiling, tightening.”
Shayla screamed. The climax was agony and the pleasure it brought was amazing. She wasn’t expecting it to be so successful. She humped the edge of the table, knocking her hips against it and kicking her legs. The scream died and left her breathless. Their hands continued to torment her, keeping her open when she wanted to close up and relax. The probing continued, and so did the orgasm. Tears dripped down her face. The emotional release was tremendous; it destroyed the humiliation that she’d brought into the room. She loved fucking and even more shocking, she loved being the center of attention. Back on her Earth, her tutors, Alfraya, they all told her she was a natural flirt under her submissive surface.
She collapsed onto the table, spread-eagled and spent.
Voices muttered. The nestors had stepped to one side, giving her space.
Jago took charge. “She asked for privacy. Perhaps a bowl of water to refresh—”
Shayla crawled onto the exam table and flopped onto her back. The lights above dazzled.
“Yes, naturally.” The Gotti followed the nestors toward the door. “She can manage on her own now.” The Gotti hesitated by the door. “I’ll be back in a while, take your time. There’s water in the corner and napkins. And, thank you, Shayla, for showing me what a truly amazing species you are. Earth must be very proud of you.”
Shayla was at a loss as to what to say. She hadn’t expected gushing gratitude. Her thoughts were already moving to the oracle, and what she had to do. Alone, she grabbed a few napkins and conducted a speedy cleansing before throwing on her clothes. She hurried to the oracle and flexed her fingers.
The question had to be simple. She pressed her palms to the globe and thought the question. Immediately, she was bombarded with images, words, a multitude of things, bundled up and presented in a confusing mass. She focused harder. The oracle was used to the experienced Gotti, not a human. Gradually, she started to make sense of some of it. Eventually, her subconscious would think it through fully. For now, she had some answers, and they shocked her. Her hands slipped off the oracle and she slumped in a chair, lost in thought and worry.
Nestors weren’t even half-brothers. The queens weren’t simply mothers, they only provided the core of the genetic makeup. The rest came not from natural sources, but laboratories. The nestors were genetically engineered to be exactly what Hezara needed. And that was men. They only wanted men; females were discarded. They could make women, but that wasn’t what they wanted. The warriors were key to the survival of their species, but why? Why weren’t women important? And why had the Junta convinced the nestors that women were obsolete when there was no reason why women couldn’t be selected?