“And this one,” Serpint continues, “is much more than just a woman or a ship. She’s sentient and she’s my partner.” He sighs, looks away for a moment, then adds, “The only one I have left. So make up your fucking mind. I need to go.”
There is an abrupt change in his demeanor with the mention of this woman-ship. Something sad, or maybe even worse than sad. Something gravely serious is happening in the moment and I get caught up in it. Start to wonder about it.
He reads that hesitation as a no and caps the tube, shoves it in his pocket, and walks away.
“Hey!” I call. “Wait!”
“Too late,” he calls as he enters the elevator.
“But—”
“Bye, princess. Enjoy what’s coming. And just know… I’ll be watching you the whole time.”
“What’s that mean?”
But the elevator door begins to close.
“Hey! Stop! Wait! Can I come too?”
I could totally scrape some palladium off the hull of his ship!
But the last thing I hear from Serpint is the sound of a sad laugh echoing though the closing doors as he disappears.
A data screen flows out from my collar. Wavy lines and images materialize and resolve in front of my face.
“What in the name of two-cocked assholes is this?”
“Your tasks for today, princess,” the bot says.
“What? What tasks? I’m bound to a fucking—” And just as the last word leaves my mouth, I fall to the floor. Magnetic bindings released.
I lie there in a lump of exhaustion for a few seconds, then turn over and find the bot hovering above me on the other side of the new data screen.
“You better get started,” he says. “Serpint is known for his extensive task lists.”
“Like you’d know.” I snort. “Have you even worked for him before?”
“Princess, please. I’m deeply sorry for the misunderstanding—”
“Misunderstanding?” I snarl. “You pierced me! Three times!” But that’s when I notice what’s happening on the data screen. “Oh, hey. What’s that countdown for?”
There’s an icon of a bedroom. Which makes me roll my eyes. If that alpha-jerk thinks I’ll be waiting for him in his bedroom when he gets back, he’s sadly mistaken. But next to the bedroom icon is a little clock counting down from ten.
“Hurry up,” the bot says. “You’re running out of time!”
“Time for—”
And that’s when the vibrations start. Deep down in my belly, like before, but not only there. The bracelets and anklets are pulsating too. It’s not the same as the last time. It’s still painful, but that’s mostly because of the piercings, not the output settings.
In fact, if I wasn’t so sore it would be undeniably pleasurable.
Damn. I wish I had that analgesic cream. Then I might get some satisfaction out of this whole miserable experience.
I try to block out the pain as the vibrating builds, both in oscillations and intensity, thinking maybe… maybe I can handle this. Maybe I can still enjoy it a little. Because I can feel the glow building inside me. Eager to escape after all these months of being locked inside. Eager for a real release after so many dull disappointments.
There’s a noise now. Kinda low and thrummy. But it begins to build, the tone getting higher and higher with each passing second. It’s something familiar. Like a charge… like something charging…
Oh. Shit.
And then the counter ends at zero and the data display flashes a bright red right in my face.
I realize—too late—what he’s doing.
And in that same moment the charge finds its final level of intensity and releases.
The shock hits my entire body. The bracelets and anklets send signals up to the collar, which sends signals down to my nipples and pussy rings, which reverberate back up to the collar, and back out to my wrists and ankles.
My entire body bucks up in a spasm of erotic climax.
And this time when I glow… it is spectacular.
CHAPTER SEVEN – SERPINT
I close up the data display, Lyra’s list of tasks complete, just as the elevator doors open onto my docking bay level.
And what is the first thing I see?
Booty.
Still tethered in the vacuum of hard space outside the motherfucking airlock.
“What the hell is this?” I snarl at the closest attendant. “Why the hell isn’t she in a medical bay?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” the woman says. “We’re waiting on one to become available.”
“Available?” I ask with mocking disbelief. “There is no waiting for my ship. Get her hauled into medical or I’ll have your fucking job and you’ll spend the rest of your servitude here scrubbing the decaying interior of old bots!”
Her collar tells me who she is, who she works for—Crux—and how long she has left on her sentence. Which is a lot of spins. Either she’s a brainless fuck-up and has had spins added as punishment… or she’s new here.
I try to calm down. Give her the benefit of the doubt and be a little understanding of her new situation. But I’m not sure I accomplish that because the next thing out of my mouth is…