“That will give you energy,” he told her. The water fountain erupted into life when he drifted his hands over it and he filled a glass for her. She drank, soothing her paper dry mouth.
“Rules?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jago cocked his head at Kriss. “Kriss will be the enforcer and I will teach you how to behave and look after you. We like to keep things straightforward. Your training is unceasing. We wish for you to learn our habits and how we like to fuck. Kriss prefers to enter you from behind and I will front mount you. As for touching yourself, that is forbidden. You need permission. Your arousal will be controlled by us.”
Kriss relieved her of the empty glass, which seemed to have stuck to the palm of her hand as if glued in place. “As for this place, you may wash and bathe, exercise, and walk the path along the edge of the lake to the next habitat, but no further.”
“No further,” she repeated.
“There is nothing in our home that you cannot touch except for the oracle,” Jago said.
“The oracle?” The thing Alfraya had mentioned just before she left.
“It connects to the repository of knowledge.” He pointed to a globe mounted on a small table. It was no bigger than the span of her hand and had a metallic sheen to the surface. “When you touch it with your hands, you can interrogate it with your mind and it answers you.”
A telepathic computer? Was this where she would find the answers to her questions?
“If you touch it,” said Kriss, edging closer to her, “you’ll be punished
by my hand. A hard spanking, one that will have you not forget.”
She swallowed a lump forming in her throat. It sounded exciting—her little mission—when in transit to Odesta, but now, faced with the reality, she wondered if she had the courage to find out what the Resistance needed to know. Kriss placed his hand on her hip. He had big hands. How hard would they sting if he spanked her? It would be brutal, surely, and humiliating. She didn’t know if she would obey them if they insisted on spanking her. Alfraya implied it was a rare event, something that had only happened to her once—she’d refused to speak about it.
Jago chuckled softly. “She’s still wet, Kriss.” He slid his hand between her thighs and up into her folds, stroking them with his fingertips. He held out his hand for Kriss to see. “See. Our cocks will lubricate her further.”
Shayla closed her eyes and swayed. How long must she wait? Would they do it now or hold off until she was so alight with neediness that she would beg them to take her? She wanted to know, feel it for herself, and experience the remarkable ability of the men of Hezara to stay rejuvenated through multiple orgasms. These men wouldn’t flag when they came, at least not until the day of the Hunger when they would spill their seed. For the time being, the only trickle that would come out of their cocks was the special pre-cum that would keep her lubricated.
“We should touch her,” Jago suggested to his nest brother. “Make her come a few times, then when she is relaxed and biddable, we will claim her.”
“Sounds good to me.” Kriss squeezed her waist. “Hey? Would you like that, little Shayla?”
She was small. So much smaller than them and weaker. There was nowhere to go even if she had changed her mind. If she fought them off, they would have the advantage. This really was it, no more delays, no more prevaricating. She had to open up and be that incredible woman, the one lauded by Earth’s media as a Love Angel, the nickname given to those chosen as Gifts. Except, this had nothing to do with love and she wasn’t an angel. In the back of her mind she was plotting less angelic things.
“Might I use the bathroom?” she asked, awash with adrenaline. She had to find a way to relax.
* * *
Those brief minutes on her own in the one isolated room of the house were a welcome respite. Shayla examined her flushed cheeks in the mirror, then the rest of her body. Everything looked perfect, just as Alfraya liked: smooth, shapely, and her sinews hidden but there, giving her core the strength and flexibility she needed. In another life, she might have been a gymnast or an athlete. The temptation to touch her clitoris was strong. If she gave it a little stroke with her finger, it might help her over this last hurdle. But, she held off—for now. The trouble with not being an angel was that at some point she would break and give in to her desires. What the hell, she smirked. It might be worth it. The imaginary act of defiance helped. What she feared was the nestors finding out about the other things she was supposed to do. Masturbating was the least of her worries.
She returned from the bathroom to find both men had removed their tunics and shirts, baring their chests. Their physique was classically masculine and a show of strength. The slightest movement caused a ripple of muscles and as they breathed, their chests expanded while their stomachs drew in to form eight, not six bands. Their nipples were minute, almost faded into their firm pectorals and naturally, they had no navels. Beyond those details, they were as human as any man she’d met. If only she could see their cocks. Instead, the enormous bulges were her only clue to their sizes.
The walk from the bathroom door to the center of the room took two, maybe three seconds. It felt like an hour. Was she looking sexy? Had she swung her hips sufficiently? They were certainly ogling her and licking their lips like they wanted to eat her, not fuck her. Sex vampires—an expression she had heard in the academy. Not from Alfraya, but somebody else, and Shayla had laughed off the description, but whoever had said it was right.
She bent over the strange armchair and her belly sank into the back cushion until it remodeled itself around her, completely encompassing her waist. It reminded her of the memory mattress back at home and the way it formed a cocoon around her. Her hands, which she pressed onto the armrests, also disappeared into the peculiar chair until only her wrists were visible. Her fingers couldn’t move and if she tried to retrieve them, the grip simply got tighter. She was bonded to the furniture and unable to rise.
Another burst of adrenaline. Another flurry of frantic butterflies in her belly. And still her pussy wanted them—the clenches were frequent, like the mini-spasms of an orgasm. She was practically there already. She never thought she could get off on this kind of vulnerability.
Shaking her hair out, she took a deep breath, as if to signal her readiness. Jago wanted her first and she guessed he was the dominant nestor. Submitting was her go-to place, the sanctuary in her mind, and if he played her right, he’d have the best of her. She nearly screamed, “Fuck me now,” like she was some star in one of those sex videos that she’d watched at the academy—training films they called them, but all the girls knew the films were supposed to normalize sex, especially the kinky stuff that Hezarans liked doing. Sometimes, she had enjoyed ‘learning,’ and other times, she found it tedious and frustrating—when would it be her turn? Well, now it was.
“She’s flooding, look,” Kriss exclaimed. “This is how they can take two cocks, isn’t it?”
Jago laughed as she tensed. “Possibly. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He stroked his hand down her spine and combed his fingers through her hair. “Relax, angel, you’re in good hands. We’re not the Beasts who come with the Violence. You wouldn’t want to meet one of them.”
“No,” she agreed. The Beasts were a mystery back on Earth. Nobody had seen one, but the legend of their savagery had been repeatedly told by Hezara to such an extent nobody doubted they existed.
Without hesitating, Jago entered her with one powerful thrust. He held her hips as he leaned forward, parting her labia with his girth. She gasped, deliberately loud so that he appreciated what it meant to have his cock seal her fate. This was a real cock, not a mechanical rod covered in artificial skin. All those hours spent in rooms with weird contraptions that supposedly replicated how the nestors had sex were fake. Pumped by pistons while pinioned into stocks or stirrups with her legs spread was more about endurance than pleasure. As for the orgasms, if she didn’t hit ten on the sensor readings, they weren’t considered good enough. She wasn’t allowed to fake them.
Jago was taking his time, which was a blessing.