Degenerate Star Ch 07 Plans

The three raiders dragged K'rra to the center table. Riley noted the blue-skinned alien was having a much more difficult time looking regal while being led by the neck and shoved with rough hands. They thrust K'rra against the table, and she bent down, placing her naked breasts to the cool top.

"Go on, get up there," Zed told Riley. She climbed onto the tabletop and knelt as four sets of eyes consumed her. Spread wide, one of her knees almost touched the top of K'rra's head.

The raiders had somehow decided who was going to be the first with K'rra. One of them dropped his pants and shuffled up behind her.

"Wait." Said Zed. "I wanna see if she's ready."

The man behind K'rra froze looking at his two mates. Zed stood up and the de-trousered man backed off quickly. Stars no, thought Riley, he can't ignore her again.

Zed slapped a hand up under K'rra, striking her pussy with a loud smack. K'rra grunted and jerked forward pressing her head to Riley's knee. Zed moved his hand, rubbing her dark blue pussy, crushing it under his palm. "Yeah, she's dripping wet. Why is that Bluesy?"

K'rra answered throatily, "The implants are having a physiological effect, sir. I've been kept in a constant state of arousal for more than two weeks now."

"Is your cunt any different from this human slut kneeling above you?" Zed asked while continuing to grind away at K'rra. His fingers were crushing her lips, rubbing and pinching them as she tried speaking.

"Individually, most certainly, the same way other Gythian reproductive organs would differ from my own. There are some minor differences in shape and size between Gythian and Human vaginas."

"Now that brings up an odd question," Zed growled. Against her blue lips he positioned several thick fingers, ready and threatening to fill her. "Why do most of the sentient species share similar body types?"

K'rra groaned as Zed forced two mammoth fingers into her. Thankfully she was dripping wet and able to accommodate him with some wriggling of her hips. "Oh fuck... I'm not a xenobiologist, although some would argue this is more a philosophical question... Ohhh... Than a, a, a purely biological one. While most species in the galaxy share many features, it is believed... oh singularity... There's some chaos theorems that suggest bipedal beings are like ferns, a template... that... that... fuck... is readily reproduced by chance. There is, however, growing belief... ohhh... that a progenitor species seeded life throughout this galaxy and left it to develop on its own accord... please... I can't ... more..."

"You want more?" Zed asked the blue slave struggling to remain coherent. He worked his arm hard, drilling into her, practically lifting her by her sopping hole, "I just find it fascinating, that fucking a Trillaxian feels almost the same as being balls deep in a Wotin. Or even a Human. What a strange universe, that I could travel to any fucking sentient planet and bury my face in a pair of titties. And be nearly guaranteed a suitable hole to stuff my cock in."

The raiders watched, dumbfounded, snickering at the exchange between the two. Riley could only look on in horror. Her Gythian science officer was a sworn stoic. Seeing her writhing and emotional like this was unheard of. It dawned on Riley that she had no actual idea what Gythain mating looked like. Did they sign contracts? Schedule sex to match perfect ovulation cycles? She couldn't imagine a species of stoics being this passionate. It must be killing K'rra to be at the mercy of the implants, and a cruel crew willing to exploit them.

"You want to cum for me, don't you, slave girl?" Zed hissed in her ear.

"Yes." She grunted back, "Yes, I want to cum."

"Do Gythian's beg?"

"It's not practiced on Gyth... oh... But exposure to humans has introduced me to the cultural... fuck fuck... significance of it. Gythains would attempt and appeal to logic."

"Appeal away."

"Yes... yes... oh fucking yes... I would point out that the release of the hormone Oxytocin produced by an orgasm will make me much more docile and reinforce my position as a slave. Ohhh... Even though sworn to stoicism, the flood of emotional responses would further break down my ability to resist the psychological programming that has been underway... oh fuck... The end result of these two effects would be a being more fitting into your cultural reference for slavery."

"I think you missed the point Bluesy. I'm asking you to beg if you want to cum."

K'rra grunted, her eyes winced shut. She wrapped her hands around Riley's thigh and knee, "Please let me cum. I beg you most humbly. I will beg more if demanded of me."

"Awkward, but she's trying," Zed said to the other raiders. Then back to K'rra, "Think about how your captain would beg. I want to hear you beg like that. Like a filthy little degenerate that's waited her whole life to get the endless fucking she deserves."

Shaking her head violently, K'rra pressed wet lips to Riley's knee, "I haven't the capacity for conjecture on how the captain would attempt such a thing. I can commit effort to ask in a bawdier fashion. Please, I beg you to let my overly lubricated vagina cum. Allow me to climax, opening passage to insemination for you. Treat me like a degreeless proletariat forced to sell herself in a brothel. Make me cry out in shame for you. I beg this of you. Please.

"Cum for me, you walking thesaurus."

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" K'rra screamed. The violence and passion of it shocked Riley. She'd never witnessed a Gythian break like K'rra was doing now. Her body bucked as if in the throes of strong seizures. "Oh fuck yes! Thank you! Fuck fuck yes."

Even Zed seemed a little taken aback by what he saw. The other raiders laughed. It was Tuesday for them.

As K'rra lay on the table shaking Riley decided she had to do something. She couldn't just sit there while her crew mates were abused so horribly.

The raider, with his pants down, scooted back towards K'rra, and Riley asked, "Have you had her before?"

"Well, yeah. Every time she comes into the galley."

"Would you like to try something new?" she asked while sliding a hand down her side.

The raider's eyes perked up, "Oh fuck yeah." He then glanced over at Zed who was glaring up at Riley.

"What are you doing?" Zed asked.

"As you keep reminding me, I'm nothing but a sex slave. K'rra has been abused enough, it's my turn."

K'rra looked up at Riley, her face a mask of agony.

The raiders laughed and made enthusiastic noises about their turn in luck.

Zed, cornered by Riley stared up at her. She knew he had two choices, keep her for himself and drop the pretense that she was nothing. Or prove her right, let them use her because she was nothing but a slave.

Feeling a bit full of herself and wanting to drive home the point that she was rescuing her crewmate Riley continued, "Would you deny them their share of booty?"

"I wouldn't think of it. As you said, you're just a slave." Zed said, then stood up and cracked his knuckles loudly, "I might, however, lose my temper if anyone tried to take advantage of my generosity and use anything more than her mouth. Understood?"

The raiders agreed, happy to finally have a shot at the unicorn their captain had been hiding away from everyone.

"Well? Don't be shy, go ahead and get up on the table with her. Show the whole ship you're fucking this exotic slave's pouty little mouth."

When the first one clambered up onto the table Riley still felt victorious. She'd save K'rra from having to endure another emotional outburst. And she'd forced Zed to protect her, in a way. As she wrapped her fist around his cock, felt it twitch and stiffen, she knew that she did have power. She could change things on the ship for the better. And when she sucked his shaft deep into her mouth, she was still rewarded with all those deliciously wicked feelings making her squirm and touch herself as she performed.

The raiders that used her did nothing that she could remember as remarkable. They were simply blips on her radar, she worked them fast, and they came fast, in her mouth, across her face, down her chest. When they came she made certain to rub their cocks in their own spunk, to spread it across herself, and stain them. It felt good having even a smidgeon of power.

As she performed, a few other raider crew members wandered in. They, too, stood in line, waiting for her to use them. When Zed finally pulled her down from the table and marched her through the corridors, she had the spunk of five men on her.

There was a time when even the thought of one man cumming on her, not in her, would have mortified her. Now she wore them like a badge of honor. How many fuckings had she just saved her crew? At least five she told herself.

Zed all but threw her into the bed face down. He drove into her, fucking her mercilessly while she cried out and begged for release. Fucking her with a fury she had yet felt he asked, "Whose pussy is that?"

"Yours, Sir!" She cried back, "Yours, Sir."

Between violent strokes into her, he told her, "That's right. It's my hole. Don't give it to anyone without my permission."

"Yes, Sir!" she gasped, "Please, please may I cum?"

"What are you?"

She gushed at the question, literally soaked the bed when he asked, "I'm your slave. I'm yours. My pussy is yours."

"Are you going to forget that?"

"No, Sir. I'll always be yours."

"Cum for me."

And after several days, of watching others fuck, and climax, and indulge in every base act, without climaxing herself, she came. It hit her hard, blinded her, took her breath away, made her incapable of speech. And when she returned, Zed continued stabbing deep into her, repeating, "That pussy is mine."

She could only mutter, "Yes, Sir." As she drifted in the wake of his desire.

Zed left her there in his cabin, battered, exhausted, and thoroughly sated. It was a struggle to pull herself out of the bed and shower. As water rippled down her skin, she couldn't help but think of how marvelous Zed had felt inside her. The more his monster came out, the more she loved it. No matter how bruised and sore she was. This was a man who showed her exactly how badly he wanted her.

How many times has this water been recycled, Riley wondered. Here's to hoping the filters are damned good. She didn't want to think of the bodily fluids of more than a dozen crew members plus her own five cascading across her skin. Then again, the thought did give her a warm little tickle.

After drying, she returned to the main cabin, where she immediately saw the inspection tool. She could only hope that Zed, in his sated state, didn't notice. Taking her position just inside the hatch with a foot to block it from closing Riley forced herself into work mode.

"Computer, library access."

"Thinking, guest access granted."

"Is the report I created complete yet?"

"Thinking, yes. The report on weaponized chemicals is completed."

"Summarize the report."

"Given the list of chemical supplies the following number of general weapons could be made:"

"Explosives, nine."

"Irritants, twenty-six."

"Correction, corrosives, one."

"Correction, inhaled anesthetics, none."

"Hallucinogenics, three."

Blast it, she thought, no anesthetics. Actually no, that wasn't correct, no inhaled anesthetics. It might be possible to get a hypo gun from the sick bay.

"How many injectable anesthetics could be made?"

"Thinking... general or local?"

"General."

"Thinking..."

Riley interrupted, "General with an immediate effect, say within seconds."

"Thinking... None."

Blast and double blast. She reviewed the list in her mind. Knocking the raiders out was not possible. Neither would injecting them be possible, even if she could somehow manage to get a hypo-gun from the sick bay. But... if she was going to nip a hypo-gun from the sick bay, why not anesthetics as well? A trip to sick bay was now at the top of her priorities list.

She considered the other weapons. Explosives were just a plain bad idea. It would be too easy to blast a hole in the ship and potentially kill everyone. Corrosives were in the same category. Irritants, however, might help. After listening to the computer explain, she discovered that some of the cleaning supplies could be used in this fashion without having to mix anything.

After cleaning the room quickly, she grabbed the inspection tool. Riley went back to the utility room just in time for the dismissal huddle. She asked about their progress, but since everything had been cataloged, most were turning their attention to the actual cleaning. Riley was afraid to share her plans. She knew Geller was sharing info with Zed, and she couldn't risk having anyone else do the same.

"I need a locker all to myself." She explained. K'rra reviewed several cabinets and selected one just for Riley.

She inspected the cabinet. It was maybe half as tall as her, but thin. There was plenty of room to stow things that might be useful for escape. She saw a keypad on the door, "Does this work?"

"Yes. The combination has been written on a piece of tape inside the door." K'rra replied, "There are also instructions from the manufacturer inside the door, including how to reset the code, use the lock, and where to hear support recordings should we have any maintenance needs."

Riley looked back inside. Sure enough, a piece of tape with 1111 scrawled on it had been stuck underneath a small metal plate explaining how to use the locker. She reviewed her list of inventories and found the three cleaners that were also irritants. It was not surprising that they were starship and heavy machinery degreasers. Most household cleaning products were made so safely that children could drink them without any consequence.

She stowed the inspection tool and a couple of spray bottles in the locker, carefully reading the instructions. Then, she changed the code and locked the cabinet. The first set of weapons her people could use were locked inside.

In a few days, they would rendezvous with the inspectors. If things got ugly, it would be the perfect opportunity to get her crew off ship. If the inspectors turned out to be on the level... well, she'd have to find a way to make it look like a trap. Angry raiders in the middle of a starship battle might just be the best chance of escape they had.

Would she go with them? Riley didn't like the thought of the inspection. Millions of credits were too much temptation. She'd like to think Zed would turn it all down for her, but would he? Could he even? Staying aboard wouldn't answer that question. If things went badly during the inspection, Zed might get paranoid and promise to stay with her, but once safely back in the Coalition, he'd get other offers. Maybe not as generous, but she had no idea what his ultimate sell price would be. Almost sadly, she would need to leave with her crew.

It pained her to shoo the crew out of the utility, having seen how K'rra was treated just hours ago. They needed to keep at the charade, for just a little longer.

Before returning to her cabin, she decided to detour into the sick bay. No better time than right now to see about getting any tools she could to help her crew's escape.

At the far end of the sick bay, a thin, lanky, grey-skinned alien worked at a console. Riley hoped she'd entered without notice, but Doc turned and looked at her.

"Yes?" he said. He then pointed to the examination table where her implants had been installed, "Go ahead and take a seat on the examination table."

"I'm just here to ask you something," Riley explained.

"That may very well be, but while you are here, I can calibrate your Training Implants. And you are overdue for a general inspection on the wear and tear of your... bits. Go on take a seat."

Tickles of lightning flickered at her nipples. She wasted no time walking over to the exam table and sitting on it.

"Excellent response. Was that of your own volition or did the implants give you a nudge?"

"I was nudged."

"And what exactly does that feel like?"

Riley thought for a moment, "Like someone has placed a discharging battery in a very sensitive spot."

"Good, good. That's perfect." The impossibly thin doctor said. "Of course, we'll have to verify that, but I'm glad to hear my work on strange physiologies is competent."

"Verify?" she asked.

"Of course. You are not what I would call a willing participant. All your responses could be tailored to be deceptive if you thought it was possible. Or if the devices were not working. Just as a matter of professionalism, I'll have to ensure the results are indeed positive."

Doc tilted his head and stared at her with ridiculously large black eyes. "Go ahead and lie back. Place your limbs in the servos and we can conclude this as quickly as possible."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"That's simple enough. It's my job to ensure the implants are working correctly. Can't deliver damaged goods to the sellers."

"No... Why would you join pirates?

He lifted her legs up onto the table while turning her so she could lie back, "Ah, that. Well, I placed last in my class on Avy. I could look forward to a career in the lowest kinds of menial tasks, or I could relocate to any number of stellar governments. All of which would be only too happy to have an Avyrian on their roster."

"But aren't Avyrian pacifists?" she asked as he lifted a leg up and placed the ankle into a robotic gripper on the table corner.

"Indeed, we are. I fire no weapons. I participate in no fights. The prisoners brought to me would be horribly mangled if any of these imbeciles tried to perform the operation. I simply provide a safer version of a service that would have occurred regardless." He dropped her other ankle into a gripper.

He continued, "And in case you are wondering, I do not partake in their barbaric activities. My species reproduces via iteroparous spawning. There is no sexual contact, fertilization occurs externally. A female releases her row, and the males, driven by chemical compulsion, release milt."

"But your actions enable them..."

Doc cut her off while pushing her back into a lying position. "What copulating species do is their own business. It's the natural order of things. Eating is also a natural order, and sadly one I must earn an income in order to indulge."

"Doc, please. We need your help."

"Nope, nope." Doc took her wrist and locked it into a gripper. "My species most closely resembles amphibians of the human worlds. We are not reared by parents and develop no emotional attachments. You would be better served saving your please for someone with a similar emotional upbringing. Besides, any helpful action on my behalf would negate the handsome bonus this ship has earned. It's rare to capture a Federated officer."

Blasted void. Getting a hypo and anesthetics was simply not going to be possible. Doc also seemed like the meticulous type. He'd lock everything, including the sick bay, when he wasn't in it.

Doc reached up and grabbed the periscope-like device in both hands. He pulled it over her and lowered the bottom, thinnest part, to her navel.

"What is this thing? I've never seen anything like it before." She asked.

"In Federation space, you wouldn't. It is called an Overseer. It monitors and maintains your Training Implants." He began adjusting dials on it while warmth seeped out of all her piercings.

Riley purred. Whatever it was doing felt so wonderfully relaxing that she wanted to lie there under it all day. She wanted to reach down and touch herself, but Doc had locked her hands in grippers at the corners of the exam table. She tugged on her legs, they were locked down as well. Any panic she might have felt was lost in the massaging fingers of warmth caressing her from inside.

"I'm going to be testing a series of different applications included with the implants. Please do not panic."