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Of Slaves Lost and Won

She lost her favourite slave-girl Cora to a handsome rival in a game of cards, but she has a plan...

It began, as many of the best adventures do, with a card game in the back room of a seedy New Tortuga dive bar.

"No, you're bluffing."

Captain Lucretia Roath narrows her glittering green eyes at her opponent as she gazes over the battered baize. She draws on her vapouriser and then with pouted lips expels a fine plume of nicotine vapour. It mingles with the pall of shisha smoke clinging to the ceiling.

Captain Elias Watts, his fine white shirt rakishly unbuttoned to mid-chest, is leaning back on his chair in the low gravity. A smirk plays across his lips, his eyebrows raised in mock challenge. He slips the pipe of the shisha between his lips and takes a long slow draw.

"That fucking face," exclaims Roath, "you had that exact expression that night in the Babylon nightclub."

He smiles, showing even white teeth, "If I remember, you were the one who had the fucking-face."

Her turn to smirk, "of course you remember; you fucking loved it."

Their eyes meet across the table and there's a sudden tension in the air, like before a summer storm. Then Roath glances down and it's gone. She leans forward across the table, the dim LED lights setting her long auburn hair aglow and scoops her modest pile of chips into the center.

"I'm all in."

Watts leans forward, counting from his own much larger stack.

"What is that, forty-five-fifty?"

"And three."

That's a tidy sum. A stevedore at New Tortuga dockyards would be lucky to see that much gold if he saved every penny for ten years.

"You're pretty confident," Watts's smile widens, "you want to go higher?"

Now Roath leans back, arms folded.

"I'm not betting any of the Raiders' ships, Eli."

"I'd not bet any of my Corsairs, and nor would any free-company Captain, but you do have something else here to put on the table."

Oh no, I don't like where this is going. I look up from where I kneel at my mistress's feet to meet his steel grey eyes. I imagine the scarred metal of a dead starship, silently drifting through the darkness. Watts is one of the most dangerous men in the Solar System and his eyes glitter with lust and barely-repressed violence.

He senses her hesitation.

"Well if you'd rather, the offer I made you back on Babylon is still on the table..."

Captain Lucretia Roath -- my mentor, lover and legal owner -- slams both hands down on the table, her mouth a tight line.

"Fuck you Eli, I'm nobody's slave. She's on the table, now go all-in and let's show down."

Watts seems taken aback by her outburst, but he can't back down now. He calmly shuffles his pile to the center where it towers over my mistress's, making a small mountain of hard plastic discs on the pock-marked card table.

"Ladies first."

Roath throws her cards on the table: an ace of worlds, and a six of men.

"Full house Eli, aces full of sixes!"

Watts, a look of genuine regret on his face spreads his hand, a seven and five of ships. My stomach drops. No. This can't be happening. Reflexively I clench and unclench my fists.

"It's a straight flush Lucy."


The tower of plastic chips slumps to one side as Roath quickly stands.

"Fuck you, Eli. You're going down."

She turns, flying through the doorway, long auburn hair streaming behind. My first love and only friend in the whole Solar System storms out of the bar, not looking back.

The stars burn harsh and white and cold outside the porthole. One of those glittering sparks is the asteroid habitat Tortuga and another is the exhaust plume of Captain Roath's flagship, both growing more unreachable by the minute. My mind is drawn back to that terrible final moment in the bar, watching her back as she vanishes into the haze of smoke.

She gambled me, as if I were just another one of those chips: a few grams of gold. Was that all I was worth to her? And what now? What of this Captain Elias Watts, my new owner?

I know so little about him, only that he and Roath go back, way back, to when they were naval officer cadets at the academy together. Now she has Roath's Raiders, and he has Watts's Corsairs, rival Free Companies raiding out of New Tortuga.

You'd never prove this, but Watts also controls the "Solar Express" shipping and freight company. They have the stickiest jingle: "Safest Shipping in the System, SolEx gets it there." 

Yeah, and no one fucks with you when your largest shareholder is the most bloodthirsty pirate sunwards of the Kupier Belt.

I hear the door click open behind me. That will be him. My hands on the rim of the broad porthole, I gaze out at the stars and try to master the swirl of emotions roiling in my gut.

I don't turn around as I hear his boots pad up behind me as he steps in close, as if he were my lover -- or my master. I fight the instinct to step away, to cower away from him.

"They are beautiful aren't they?"

I just nod.

He steps in right behind me, his hand laid possessively on my hip. I can feel the roughness of his skin through my diaphamous dress. His breath is hot on my cheek as he speaks, one arm upraised:

"Someday we will be able to look up at the sky, and know that those glittering jewels are filled with life, colonised, conquered, tamed and ruled."

His firm hand is on my hip, spinning me around.

"Let's take a look at you."

I turn obediently, but look at my feet, unable to meet his eye. I feel his hungry gaze caressing my body. My dress hides nothing from him: a diaphamous fabric, loosely pleated and looped around my back, both ends hanging from a ring on my collar. It covers my ass, chest, belly and crotch, but only if I am careful not to open the split which runs from collar to ankle, and only under dim light as the fabric is light and sheer.

"What's your name, slave?"

"Cora, master."

"'Cora.' It means 'The Maiden,' are you one?"

I feel a hot flush of shame redden my cheeks.

"Yes master, I have only been with Captain Roath, never with a man."

"But you know how to please a woman?"

"Yes, master."

"Are you good at it?"

"I am, master."

"We shall see."

As if summoned by an inaudiable signal, the other slave steps forward, Dayna. She's blonde with skin pale as milk. She wears a similar shift to mine and I can see the graceful curves of her body barely concealed by the cascade of soft fabric.

She stalks towards me with feline grace. With a smile and an admiring glance, she unfastens the dress from the collar, folds it twice and places it on a nearby chair. The two of us stand before Captain Watts, and even though Dayna's slave dress conceals little of her magnificent figure, I feel conscious of my own nudity. Degraded. My nipples harden as they are caressed by the cool recirculated air.

"Come, sit with me," Elias beckons us to his bed.

In freefall there's no distinction between a wall and a floor but a corner of Elias's cabin is padded on all sides to make a comfortable sleeping-nook. Elias reclines on a velcro-backed cushion and bids us kneel in front of him.

Outwardly-obedient, I kneel. My heart and mind are still a whirl of thoughts and emotions: despite my mistress's abandonment, to serve this stranger with my body still feels like a betrayal of her. As my stomach churns I cling to the duties of my role: to obey my new master.

Captain Watts looks me slowly up and down.

"Your posture is good. Nice straight back." He turns to the other slave, "what do you think Dayna?"

Her turn to examine me. Her gaze is different from his: while he eyes me up like a predator deciding how to devour his prey; her gaze is appraising, like a collector of fine jewelery assessing the value of her latest acqusition.

I stand and turn for her, letting her see me from all sides. She smiles appreciatively.

"Young: barely nineteen. Nice clear skin. She's kept herself in shape: flat belly, nice pert breasts..."

As she says that she's moved to stand behind me, cupping one in her right hand, toying with my nipple with the finger-tips. A moan escapes my lips, sounding too loud in the quiet cabin.

I hear her giggle, her breath a cool whisper in my ear. She leans forward, her left hand on my belly, her right on my breast, takes my earlobe between her teeth and gently nibbles.

My moan is louder this time as I feel her pressing her bare body against mine. If I close my eyes, I can imagine I'm back with my mistress. Her left hand slowly slipping down my belly, towards that cleft between my legs...

"Dayna," Captain Watts quietly interjects, "why don't we start the first lesson?"

Her finger-tips are barely a centimeter from my clit when she obediently steps back. I squirm and let out an involuntary whine of frustration but I know better than to try to take matters into my own hands. Captain Roath may no longer be my mistress, but I learned the lessons she taught in my muscles and in my soul.

Dayna kneels in front of her master and unfastens his dark trousers, taking his weapon in both hands. My eyes widen at the sight of it. The last time I saw a warrior's weapon unholstered, it belonged to my first crush, a marine called Rodrik. Unfortunately when I laid eyes on it, it was wrapped in the lips of another man.

So it's been a while. At the sight of it, broad and hard and glistening with arousal, a shiver runs down my spine and between my legs. I kneel on the soft cushions next to them and just watch as Dayna wraps one hand around the barrel and slips the muzzle between parted lips.

Captain Watts is leaning back against the wall, his fingers laced through Dayna's long blonde hair. She bobs her head as she milks his shaft into her mouth.

I feel a pang of guilt about how much this is turning me on: I want to be this good at cock-sucking, to see Captain Watts look at me with the same possessive pride he looks at Dayna. Then I remember my old mistress's back as she walked out of the bar after giving me away over a hand of poker.

Subconsciously, I part my lips and lick them.

I realise Watts' eyes are on me. I blush, imagine him reading my entire train of thought as it plays across my features. His hand in Dayna's hair, he lifts her head. She looks at me, panting, lips parted, heavy-lidded eyes dark with arousal.

Two fingers upraised he beckons me over. Obediently I crawl on all fours towards him. He cups my chin in his hand, his fingertips rough on my chin.

"You want to learn?"

I nod eagerly.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

I obey and he places himself atop my tongue. He tastes a little salty, but mainly of Dayna's mouth.

"Now, draw me into your mouth, as deeply as you can. Wrap your lips around my shaft and draw in your cheeks."

Obediently I wrap my lips around him and inhale the heady, musky scent deep into my lungs. Slowly I start to bob my head, my hand wrapped around the base of the shaft, feeling him slipping back and forth over my tongue.

I quickly find my rhythm, moving hand and head in time as I milk his thick shaft into my mouth. I feel his fingers lace through my hair and I glance up at him, across his broad muscular chest: his head is leant back, eyes closed in bliss.

"Mmm," he moans, "are you sure you've not done this before?"

I can't answer him, my lips are wrapped around his thick shaft. I feel his fingers tighten in my hair as he takes control, gripping my hair tightly as he starts to thrust into my mouth. My eyes pressed tightly shut, I focus on him and his shaft, making my mouth the most pleasurable hole he's ever fucked.

His strong hand on my hair, pinning my head in place, he roughly pounds my mouth. Each thrust of his hips plunges his thick sword deep into my virgin flesh until I almost gag on it. I feel so used and degraded; I don't want this to stop.

"I'm going to cum in your mouth," he growls, "I want you to swallow it all."

"Mmmph!" I obediently reply.

As if on command I feel him discharge his weapon into my mouth, his hot salty load splattering the back of my throat. As the first load coats my tongue I feel a rush of arousal deep in my loins. My mouth fills with his emission and eagerly swallows it down. Still it comes, load after load squirting from his twitching shaft, as I use my hand to milk every last drop.

At last, sated, he slips from between my lips. I kneel before him, panting through parted lips, my mouth filled with the taste of his cock and his cum. I feel an aching emptiness between my legs as I realise how badly I wanted to feel him in me, to claim my maidenhead. He has won me as his prize and now I want him to claim it, to claim all of me, to exercise all his rights as my master.

Dayna has crawled over to him and with her long tongue is eagerly licking every last drop of cum that clings to his shaft. Watts beckons me forwards and Dayna rolls over, spreading her legs and dress, exposing herself for me.

Obediently, I kneel between her legs and start to lick her smooth bare pussy. Cupping her ass in my hands I eagerly delve deep between her lips with my tongue, tasting her hungrily before taking her into my mouth and sucking as I slip my fingers easily inside her dripping pussy.

I can tell she got really turned on watching me getting face-fucked by Watts, and now tasting my mouth on his shaft. This shouldn't take long.

With her lips still wrapped around Watts's shaft all I hear from her is the 'mmm' of approval as my fingertips find that spot just inside and rub, even as my tongue is eagerly caressing her knot of pleasure-flesh.

I feel her grinding into my mouth as I edge her ever closer. Her fingers laced through my long hair I feel the tremors in her hips as my touch draws her almost to the brink...


Watts's voice of command is like electricity in my blood. Immediately I snap upright, kneeling obediently. Dayna is writhing on the floor, unsated and in an agony of temptation to touch herself.

But then Watts is upon me, laying me down on the soft cushions as he kneels between my legs. My stomach churns. A part of my is terrified of the thought of having his member so rudely violate my virgin cleft, and yet another larger part of me just wants this strong and bloodthirsty warlord to ravish me, heedless of my pain and discomfort.

I feel his hand between my legs, deftly spreading my lips and then the muzzle of his reloaded weapon, nuzzling between them and slowly probing into me. I can feel how wet I am and ready for him, but I can still feel myself being stretched as he eases himself deeper into me. He starts to thrust, slowly, gently, each thrust easing himself ever deeper into me. One part of me admires his self-restraint, another rages in frustration, wanting him to slam himself all the way in and brutally pound me, using my body as his fucking-toy.

My eyes trace up his body, admiring his hard warrior's physique, tracing the pale lines of scars with my fingertips, imagining what story lies behind each brush with death. But only a brush.

His steel-grey eyes locked on mine, I feel a growing ache deep inside as my maidenhead is stretched thin by his thick lance, thrusting ever deeper into me and forcing me wide to accomodate him. Deeper and deeper he probes into me until finally I am taking his full length, the tip of his shaft nestled against my cervix, my lips wrapped around the base.

I imagine how long and wide he felt in my hands and my mouth. I think about that huge weapon now buried deep inside me. He wraps his hands around my slim wrists and pins them to the cushions above my head. His lips twitch into a smile as he looks down at me, completely immobilised and at his mercy. 

I feel him drawing back, his shaft slippling from me and suddenly I am filled with frustration: after violating me, taking my maidenhead, I am to be left unsated? A thought briefly flickers across my mind: me, lying bound and gagged and gaping on the floor as I watch Watts empty himself into Dayna's slick bare pussy. I imagine being right underneath her as she kneels on all fours, watching his thick shaft twitch as he pumps her full of his hot cum. Watching him slip out of her and feeling his hot load slop out of her, all over my face and chest.

Then suddenly he drives forwards with his hips, plunging his broad weapon deep into my young body. I can't help but cry out at the sudden violation, and the twinge of pain from between my legs. In reflex I try to close them, to bring them together, but he is strong and has me pinned. 

I am completely at his mercy.

He starts to pound me, drawing back his hips and then driving his shaft forward, slamming himself deep into me, the tip of his shaft slamming against my cervix and his pelvic bone against my clit. Again and again, the pounding is like a relentless jackhammer. The ache between my legs slowly fades as it is drowned out by another sensation that grows and rises and swells. Like a coiled spring slowly being compressed tighter and tighter and tighter.

Until I feel his release. 

His weapon twitches as I feel it discharge deep inside me. As that first load of cum splashes across my cervix suddenly I too am convulsing in sympathetic orgasm, my body writhing involuntarily against my master's strong restraint. 

The jackhammer pounding is unceasing, even as I writhe underneath him, his member feeling like a firehose jammed up inside me, pumping me full to the brim with his seed.

At last he rolls off me, emptied. I lie back, panting, heart pounding, the last vestiges of my orgasm slowly fading. Out of the corner of my eye I see Dayna dive hungrily onto Watt's glistening sword, eager tongue darting out as she licks it clean of his emission, and mine. 

"What do you think?" Watts asks me, "do you think we should let her cum?"

I meet the other slave's pleading eyes over Watt's cum-slick blade. I think about my master's cum, trickling slowly from my pussy and pooling under my ass.

"Yes. But first she should finish cleaning up the mess."

Watts grins wickedly.

"I like you Cora. Dayna honey, you need to finish cleaning up the mess."

Frustration and arousal war across Dayna's facial features, but she obediently dips her head and that eager tongue starts to lap at where seminal spillage glistens on the cushions, then I feel her hands under my ass as she brings me to her lips like a drinking cup, drawing a deep draught from me, swallowing as my master's seed slips down her pale throat.

I feel her tongue delve deep into me, questing eagerly for the last drops. Finally she sits back, licking her lips, chin glistening with my juices.

Watts smiles, "Good girl, now cum for us."

She nods and slips two fingers back inside me and then, slick with my sex, her saliva and the last drops of cum she rubs frantically at her clit. Her eyes pressed tightly shut, her breath ragged, the poor girl must have been so horny it only takes three strokes before she's cumming hard, bent double as the strong climax wracks her slender body.

On instinct I take her in my arms and kiss her fiercely on the lips, her body quivering against mine as the orgasm ripples through her. She melts into me and we collapse back onto the cushions.

We lie there for a moment before Watts crawls over to us, his steel-grey eyes glowing with pride and affection. He cups our chins in his hands. 

"You did well girls and I'm very proud of you. Especially you Cora, I can tell we're going to have a lot of fun together."

"Thank you master, I think so too."

He looks me slowly up and down again.

"Man, Lucy was crazy to gamble you, for any amount of gold."

A sad note is woven into the post-coital hurricane of emotions; I feel a hot pricking in my eyes. I flick my gaze down to my feet. Watts caresses my hair affectionately and kisses the top of my head.

"I'll see you girls later."

He stands and leaves. Dayna and I smile shyly to eachother.

"I've never done any of that before."

"Sweetie you did brilliantly. I'm actually a little bit jealous... he rarely cums that hard for me..."

I giggle, "Well I hope you put it down to beginners luck, because I sure as hell had no idea what I was doing. What do we do now?"

"When master has no need of you, you have the freedom of most of the ship and you can do almost as you please: exercise or watch a film or take up a hobby: I play the harpsichord!"

"Hmmm. Do you think you can teach me?"

"I can teach you a great many things," her green eyes suddenly narrow as her fingertips trace down my belly, "maybe we should stay here and get to know each other a bit better..."

I meet her gaze and her eyes simmer with lust and affection.

"I'd like that."

She kisses me tenderly on the lips. I slip my hand under her dress to caress her hip.

"Well the first thing you should know about me is that you and I have a mutual friend, a certain female free-company Captain."

Roath. The thought of her is like an ache in my heart. 

"She says she's sorry, and hopes that in time you can forgive her. She has a plan to get you back, but she needs your help."

"She's sorry is she?"

Dayna nods, straddling me, her dress falling like a curtain on either side of us. Her soft lips trace a line of kisses down my collar-bone and between my breasts. She looks up at me, a sly smile playing across her lips.

"She is, and she told me to show you just how sorry..."

As her lips brush my belly I lace my fingers through her hair. I have so many questions for her.

But they can wait.

"There she is Captain Roath, the MSV Mercator," my XO, David Marshall, lifts his careworn and grizzled face from the computer screen to meet my eye, "Earth registration held by SolEx Holdings, just like your girl said."

There's no beauty or architecture to the freighter. It looks like nothing more than a pile of shipping containers stacked like Jenga bricks around a slim spindle, with a cluster of rocket nozzles at one end and a jumble of crew quarters and bridge at the other.

"Where's that Orbital Guard cutter?"

"Just disappearing over the horizon now. Ganymede will block us from their view for about five minutes."

"That's not long. Strike our colours; raise the black flag."

My XO flips a switch. Our transponder had been telling everyone we were a harmless shuttle. Now it signals we're a boarding skiff of the Roath's Raiders privateer company.

I make a call to the MSV Mercator. Their Captain appears on the screen: an older man, with a craggy weathered face, eyes like two chips of ice, his scalp, cheeks and jaw all stubbled with fine blonde hair.

I see his eyes widen in shock as he sees me appear on his screen.

"MSV Mercator, this is Captain Lucretia Roath of Roath's Raiders. We claim you as prize. Please stand down and prepare for boarding."

His brow lowers and his eyes harden. The screen goes blank but the connection's still there; we're on mute.

Two minutes until the police ship comes back around.

"Fire across their bow."

My XO nods, and repeats the order:

"Weapons, tube one, across the bow. Fire when ready."

The "clunk" sound reverberates throughout the ship as the hypervelocity missile detaches from the launch, and outside the portholes a second sun dawns blue-white as the missile ignites its engines and streaks across the bow of the freighter.

"No way they'll miss that," my XO comments.

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than the Mercator's captain is back on the screen.

"This is Captain Soren Holm of the MSV Mercator. Ok Roath, you win. Standing down."

My XO looks up at me and grins; mechanically I smile back, but Cora dominates my mind. I wonder what she's up to right now. I wonder what he's making her do. I wonder if she's loving every minute.

Our ships dock nose to nose, I step over the threshold of the airlock, magnetic boots making a "clunk" "clunk" as they grip the metal floor of the spacecraft.

I'm in my jet black suit of power armour, servos whining with each step, mirror-faceted surface glittering with reflected light. It's a terrifying sight to a civilian, but the crew of the MSV Mercator remain professional. Looking around, they must be the most scarred and hard-bitten freighter crew I've ever seen, the saltiest of salty space dogs.

I turn to the Captain.

"Show me container ZXC186."

He smiles a half-smile.

"You know what we're carrying then?"

"I do."

My XO steps up next to me and lays a hand on my arm, his eyes locked on the Mercator's Captain.

"What is it?"

"Need a word with you in private, Captain."

"After I see the goods."

"Let me come with you."

"No. I need you to stay here and finish securing the ship, setting up the burn for Tortuga."

His mouth hardens; he's not happy but he'll obey. He's a good man and an excellent XO. Veteran of nearly every war for the last forty years, piracy is his relaxing retirement.

"Well Captain, shall we go?"

The Captain of the Mercator indicates the spinal airlock. I tuck my french plait of auburn hair back into my helmet, click the seal closed and follow him.

Once through the airlock we drift slowly along the spine of the ship, the incandescent pinpricks of the stars visible through an open web-work of girders on all sides.

"Captain, this is Marshall."

It's a private channel. Just the two of us.

"Roath. Come in Marshall."

Holm grabs onto a beam next to one of the containers about half-way along. I stand beside him, my boot-magnets gripping the girder. He breaks the customs seal and swings open the door of the container.

"The Captain of the Mercator, I recognise him. His name isn't Holm."

"Who is he?"

Our suit torches blaze against the sides of the container, and glitter back off the contents: piles of gold bars, stacked on pallets and tied tightly down with webbing nets. Gold enough to pay the salary of every employee of SolEx and the Ganymede Company for a year.

I step slowly into the container, admiring the impressive sight of so much wealth stacked in one place. More than enough to buy back Cora and rub Watts' nose in it too.

I imagine the look on his face as he realises I've bested him. How angry he'd be. Would he try to lay a hand on me? A thrill of fear runs down my spine like a bolt of lightning earthing itself deep between my thighs. Fear and something else... 

I think about Cora and the look on her face when she realises I've won her back. When Watts turned his cards and I realised I'd lost her, I couldn't look her in the eye. He humiliated me in front of her. I hope she can forgive me...

Marshall is back on the radio:

"I served with him. His name is Magnus Lund. He's a mercenary and a bounty hunter and the most sadistic man I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

I quickly spin, but it's too late: Lund has resin projector in his hand, filled with immobilising goop and it's trained on me.

"You shouldn't have taken Cora, her daddy was most upset."

"I know my rights on arrest, I want to speak to my law--"

He laughs, nastily.

"The bounty isn't for your arrest, pirate slut. Daddy doesn't want justice; he wants revenge."


I fought when they took me from my suit, but without my powered armour the burly crewmen easily overpowers me. With one on each arm in a satire of chivalry they drag me to a small storage locker, and soon my wrists and ankles are locked tight in hard plastic manacles, the kind they use to restrain the most dangerous of criminals.

I am suspended there in my black zip-up one-piece, each of my limbs chained to a different corner of the room, entirely immobile.

Captain Lund floats in the null-gravity, gripping the door-frame, admiring my predicament.

"Come to gloat, Lund?"

"Not just to gloat..."

"Fuck you Lund, I'm nobody's slave."

In answer he just laughs, slipping through the doorway, hooking his feet into hoops on the floor. I squirm but it's no use, I'm bound so tightly I can't even rattle my chains. One hand gripping my leg, he reaches forward with the other and slowly undoes the zipper, starting in the small of my back, slowly passing between my legs, and up to my belly button.

The circulating cool air caresses my bare lips. I've never felt so vulnerable, or so humiliated in my life.

What's that in his hand? It's like a small clear resin pear, the stem emerging from the bottom rather than the top. A butt-plug. I feel the slender tip slip into my tight asshole. Oh no! 

I thrash wildly in my restraints, using every ounce of my strength as I try to free myself but it is to no avail and the lubricated surface of the plug slips easily into my flesh.

As the butt-plug slips deeper into my ass I can feel it stretching me wide as it forces my asshole open to accommodate it. A shiver runs down my spine, anchoring itself in a tingle between my legs.

I'm always the one in charge, the one in control. I am at the helm, giving orders, taking command. Now I find myself at the mercy of another. Lust and fear war within me. In my mind I rage at this humiliating violation. But to my horror, in my heart I just want this mercenary Captain to take me.

I feel the plug being forced deeper into me, I know it's not big, but it feels huge as Lund forces the self-lubricating toy into my tight asshole. I give myself over to the sensation, letting him violate me in this way, enjoying the feeling.

At last he forces the widest part past my asshole and I feel my body drawing the plug into me, sinking it deep into my flesh until the flared base nestles between my ass cheeks. This is so degrading: being restrained, exposed and then made to take a butt-plug in my ass.

It turns me on so much.

He starts to caress my lips. In spite of the power dynamic I can tell I am dripping with arousal. Every brief touch and brush of his finger-tips is like electricity, crackling out through my body, setting my nerves ablaze.

"Where's Cora? Where have you stashed her away?"

I don't know how to answer. I just shake my head. In response the butt-plug seems to swell inside me, stretching my abused and violated asshole even further.

"The plug in your ass will grow and shrink on my command. Answer my questions or..."

The plug quickly swells inside me, painfully big. I cry out as I feel my ass getting stretched wide-- wide enough for two men to enter me at once. I pant from the pain and the arousal. He's asking me the question again but all I can think about is how badly I want a cock in me.

"Ugn," I grunt out, "Cora not here."

"I can see that. Where is she?"

I look down, across my heaving chest, between my spread thighs. He has taken himself out of his trousers. I can see his unsheathed weapon, arousal glistening under the artificial lights.

I shake my head in denial of my own undeniable desire, but suddenly I'm impaled upon him, his broad weapon sunk deep into my traitorous flesh. The sensation is exquisite-- the double penetration from the swollen plug filling my ass and his thick sidearm in my pussy. It must be good for him because he forgets the interrogation and grips my legs with both hands, thrusting into me. I close my eyes and lean back in the restraints, as each thrust of his hips drives his lance deep into me.

He fucks me harder, drawing back until he's almost slipping out and then slamming himself home, his pubic bone grinding into my clit even as his shaft punches against my cervix.

"I need your cum," the words are spoken even as the realisation dawns.

Lund leers down at me and suddenly he's slipped out, and so has the plug filling my ass, and then his broad weapon is inside me and he's slamming himself between my cheeks, my pussy gaping upon, unfilled, even as he brutally pounds my tight asshole.

He doesn't take long, gripping my hips tightly in both hands as I feel him emptying himself inside me, spraying his hot load deep inside my ass with a grunt. There's a lot of cum and I feel it filling me up inside. I lean back in my restraints, eyes pressed tightly shut as I feel his hot load filling my abused ass to the brim.

He slips out and before I know it another crewman has slid through the door and is impaling me upon his own weapon. The thought of another man forcing himself into my violated and cum-filled ass only serves to focus my mind on my gaping, unused pussy.

Lund has wedged himself in the doorway and watches as his crewman discharges his weapon deep inside my bound abused body. I can't help but feel a thrill of pleasure at how I am being degraded and used, turned into a fuck-toy for these scarred and dangerous men, how little choice I have in the matter.

How I am loving every moment of it.

With the cum of two different men filling my ass, I float in my restraints in the zero gravity. I glance down between my breasts, across my muscular belly to see another crewman swinging through the doorway. He's a giant, nearly seven feet tall, with dark hair in a crew-cut and eyes that are so blue they are almost white.

He glides towards me and grabs hold of my legs, hooking his feet into the floor. I can clearly see the glistening muzzle of his massive weapon, bobbing gently in the null-gravity. He grips my ass cheeks like a chalice, a chalice that's currently filled to the brim with cum, and slips the muzzle of his cannon between my lips.

Dread and lust war in my heart as I contemplate having my pussy impaled by such a massive weapon.

"All hands, prepare for main engine burn."

He plants his feet firmly, and flashes me a grin. His teeth are even and white. I briefly have the absurd thought that, had he not chosen a life of piracy in interplanetary space, he could have been a model.

Suspended as I am, I only hear the rumble as the engines start, and then the pull of the acceleration drags my body to the deck, straight onto the pirate's unsheathed blade. I feel the thick weapon sinking deep into me, stretching me as I have never been stretched before, the pull of the acceleration forcing it deeper and deeper into me.

I can't help but cry out as I feel the broad shaft sinking deep into my bound flesh. The sailor grips my hips in both hands and starts to thrust into me, his thick weapon driving deep into my slick and eager pussy.

I squirm against my bindings, but it is no use, I have no choice but to take this huge shaft in me, and accept whatever else these pirates decide to do to me...

Gripping my hips tight in my hands he starts to roughly pound me, his huge cannon slamming again and again into my abused and ravaged pussy.

I lean back as he drives ever deeper into me, the muzzle of his weapon slamming into my cervix again and again. I focus on holding the cum in my ass even as I feel him preparing to fill my other hole with his hot load. My eyes pressed tightly shut, I can feel his weapon deep inside me as he discharges it, the barrel sunk deep into my lithe bound body, unleashing a gushing torrent of hot cum and filling my abused pussy to the brim.

The giant steps back, his weapon slipping from me as a messenger taps the captain on the shoulder. His emission dribbles from me, trickling down between my ass cheeks and dripping to the floor.

"Captain, as soon as we started the burn for Tortuga, another ship adjusted course to intercept: the MSV Barbarossa. ETA two hours."

Watts' flagship. Cora.

Lund glances at me, "Friend of yours?"

I shake my head in a lie and Lund and his crew leave me stewing in my juices and theirs.

Two hours, that's not long. My hands are slick with sweat and I try to slip them through the tight cuffs. It's agony but I manage to get one thumb-knuckle through the cuff, then suddenly my hand is free, though crippled with agonised cramping. My focus has been on my wrist and now my thighs glisten slick with cum. With a free hand, my other wrist and ankles don't take as long.

It seems like hours later, but I'm free. Zipping myself back up I slowly glance around the door-frame. I can see my powered armour just across the corridor. Quick as a flash I dart across the corridor and somersault into the armour. Sensing my presence, it folds like a metal flower and I sink into it's familiar cosy embrace.

Now, how to get off this ship...

The shipping containers tumble silently against the distant stars, brightly coloured cuboids slowly rotating like some abstract work of installation art. 

"Captain, we've found the Mercator. It looks like she's dumped most of her cargo, all of the gold, and is burning hard for Tortuga."

Watts nods, his jaw a firm line.

"Collect the gold but let the ship go."

The young sailor standing in the hatch of Watt's stateroom looks suddenly nervous.

"There's something else."

He steps to one side and who should I see slip through the doorway but my former mistress, Captain Lucretia Roath. She looks a shadow of her former proud self, shoulders hunched, eyes haunted. Her black flight suit soaked through with sweat, and nicked in places, the dark fabric pulling back to reveal pale vulnerable flesh underneath.

"Roath," Watts spits the word through clenched teeth, "what the actual fuck?"

She says nothing, just glances at me, then at the decking where she's hooked her feet.

"If I'd known she meant so much to you I'd have never taken her. You know me Roath. Just as you know I can't let this betrayal go unpunished..."

A trilling over the loudspeaker.

"Captain, the Mercator is hailing us."

Watts glances over at Roath.

"You know what this is about, don't you?"

"They're mercenaries," she says, her voice a hoarse whisper, "they're after me, and her. They were hired by her father. They won't stop Eli. They'll never stop. Unless you stop them."

"And destroy one of my own merchant vessels?"

Watts shakes his head, a wry smile playing across his lips, and leans into his communicator.

"Helm. Set a course to rendezvous with the Mercator, Comms, put them through."

On the wall, the image of the Captain of the Mercator appears, a craggy and sunburned face, grizzled and scarred, with two ice-blue eyes.

"Captain Lund of the MSV Mercator."

"Captain Watts of the MSV Barbarossa."

With a rumble the engines ignite, and slowly I feel the grip of the apparent gravity pull me towards the deck. Now an old hand, I land delicately on my toes like a ballerina.

"I believe you've come into possession of something that belongs to me."

"I believe you are in breach of your shipping and courier contract."

He smiles, shaking his head.

"Regrettably, we were attacked by pirates. You have your gold back, but that pirate bitch that attacked us, she's mine."

"I am considerably out of pocket here: salvage, insurance, PR and all the rest. Meanwhile I understand you stand to make a small fortune from her succesful capture. Cut me in and she's yours."

"I can give you four kay."

"Make it forty five fifty and three, and you may just have yourself a deal."

"Forty five fifty and three. Done."

"Two minutes. I'll give you the details of my vault on Tortuga."

"See you shortly, Captain Watts."

As he vanishes from the screen I turn to see Roath, tears streaming down her face. This proud pirate who once took me from my father and carried me off to the stars now stands broken, humiliated.

Head bowed, she walks over to Watts and kneels at his feet, crossed wrists upraised. She looks down at her knees, and murmers, "I am yours, to do with as you please."

Watts suddenly smiles, not in gloating victory, but in genuine affection. He slips a slim gold collar around Roath's neck, the click of the latch reverberating in the sudden silence.

He cups her chin in his hand, lifting her gaze to meet his over her crossed supplicating wrists.

"You are mine and I possess you with my right hand: your body, your will, your life, to do with as I please."

The tension pours out of Roath like a river, her chin dropping to her chest as she embraces submission. It seems to pour into Watts and he stands tall and straight-backed.

"Weapons, target the MSV Mercator. Fire control to my console."

"Yes sir."

The trilling again.

"They're hailing us sir. They must have picked up the targeting radar."

"Put them through."

Again, the grizzled face of Captain Lund appears on the screen.

"Watts, I thought we had a deal."

"The situation changed."

Just then, Watts' console lights up with the targeting information. A strobing red button to let loose a wave of nuclear-tipped hypervelocity missiles. It itches to be pushed.

"Who is Lucretia Roath, Watts? Who is she to you?"

"Who is she?" He asks rhetorically, "She is Mine."

His finger lances down on the launch button, and the screen goes black.

The slaves have eyes only for their master and await his command.


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