Chapter One: Frustration, All Around
This hotel room is cheap, so god damn cheap. We literally just got paid, credits should be in the process of transferring into our accounts as we speak, and yet she still drags me to this shithole and does so every time. There has to be something about these places that turn her on or at least play into her fantasy because we always have the dirtiest, kinkiest sex at these places. When our bodies are in stasis and our minds connect via neural net connections our lovemaking is sweet, sensuous and almost always high class. Today is a dirty day and I know this the second the door slides shut behind us. The bed floats in the center of the room, a long and oval shaped pod that fits all species that may check into this fucking dive. Jenna heads to the controls at the foot of the bed and punches in some codes which causes four posts to rise up where the corners would be if this was a rectangular bed. I guess it's gonna be one of those kind of days, I can feel my arousal levels rising already.
"Get undressed, now." She commands. "When done climb into bed onto your back."
"Yes, mistress," I reply, engines running at full speed.
Quickly I unzip the front of my one piece and pull off my boots, setting the boots by the dresser and when I get my uniform off I fold it neatly and stack it on top of my boots. My mistress gets quite displeased if I do not follow her rules and her first rule is cleanliness and order in her space. The second is to follow instructions, to the letter. My white sports bra and panties come off next and get folded up, set on top of the uniform. Turning around I see my mistress, my lover, Jenna. Her short, very dark, hair is pulled into a little ponytail with not a single hair out of place. I have no idea how she manages to keep it like that. She's pulled out four straps from her work bag and is working on affixing them to the bed. Her body is thin and lithe, standing no more than five foot four. Jenna has slight curves, just enough to drive me wild, the curviest part being her backside.
"What are you waiting for?" Her tone is curt, to the point. She has spun on her heel and is giving her most serious look.
I scramble up into the floating pod and my mistress grabs my right arm. Tenderly, almost ritualistically, she sets about taking away my power and ability to move. Once I'm strapped in I get that usual rush of feelings: first a wave of fear over not being able to move that is immediately replaced with a feeling of relief. Because I trust her I willingly release my power to her. My mistress has earned the right of my submission. As the feeling of relief passes I feel myself sinking into my subspace. My mistress bends down, reaching into the bag, and soon returns with the gag. It is wild how the design of these things hasn't changed in over a thousand years. In the sex log section of the neural net you can find records of ball gags with their leather straps and red rubber going back to the twentieth century on the long dead planet that we descended from: Earth. That is a planet many, many systems over and has been dead since its sun imploded.
With the gag in place and my voice sufficiently restrained it is time for us to begin the game. My mistress removes first her boots and then her uniform, a white and grey one piece that like mine that hugs every curve. When those are removed and stacked neatly next to my own uniform I can see that body of hers. The slender hips, her very visible abs showing below the half tank top (black) and black panties. Our game always starts the same way: she will work on me till I give the signal that I fully submit, shown by me shaking my head up and down four times. She slowly walks up to the side of the bed, reaching her hand out and lightly touching my thigh. Her touch is divine, just enough to trace a line of heat wherever her fingers go. Starting on the outside she traces her finger up my thigh and then to my taut stomach. As it passes my bellybutton I experience an uncontrollable quiver, something she knew would happen, and her face lights up in a smile.
Still moving her fingertip she moves upwards, towards my breasts. It makes a light circle around the nipple, going hard in anticipation, but frustratingly not touching it directly. She stays just outside the areola before tracing its way up my throat. When she reaches my chin the finger extends, forcing my head upwards and I stare at the dingy wall of this dump. With her finger still forcing me into this slightly uncomfortable position she leans her body over the bed. The edge of her tank top brushes up against my hard nipple causing me to jump again, I can feel her thighs pressed against my sides and then her face fills up my vision. Her narrow, cat like eyes, stare directly into mine. I can't help but notice how beautiful she looks, even from the awkward position and angle. When she leans down and kisses my lips, as well as the gag, my eyes close in pleasure. I want her tongue in my mouth, I chafe against this restraint. My mistress senses this discomfort and grins, knows she has me.
I hear a loud buzzing from my own bag on the floor, next to my boots. Jenna looks at me and I vigorously shake my head, no. After a few moments the buzzing stops and then I hear another buzzing, this time from her bag. Jenna gets an annoyed and frustrated look on her face as she gets up from the bed and walks towards the bag. She pulls out the backup comms link, we have both shut off our direct neural net connections. Neither of us likes the idea of either Mother, the computer system of our ship, nor Nero, the ships android, having access to these memories. They belong to us and us alone.
"Captain Markos is calling," she says, eyebrow cocked, waiting for my answer.
Again I shake my head no. We just completed four back to back runs with the accompanying time in stasis and I want this, want it so bad that I can feel my core is already dripping wet. The smell of it is starting to filling the room. It is the fuel of my mistress, we both need this, and the Captain can fucking wait. He'll be pissed we disconnected, again, but I'll deal with the chewing out later. Jenna drops the back up comm, normally worn on the wrist, back into her bag and crawls up onto the foot of the bed, in between my waiting legs. Another tremble ripples through my body.
"Now, my pet, where were we?" She looks at me with that lust filled expression upon her face.
My mistress places a gentle, very light, kiss on the inside of my knee. I cannot help but make a purring sound behind my gag. Moving half an inch up she gives me another kiss, just as light. I let my head fall back onto the pillow and close my eyes, waiting for my mistress to really begin the game of getting me to submit. With the next kiss she leaves her mouth there, sucking in on the flesh slightly. Letting it out she immediately sticks the tip of her tongue out, starts to trace her way upwards. She makes her way up my thigh until she hits my spot, that strange cluster of nerves on the inside of the thigh which causes me to moan lightly. At that sound she pulls back and I let out a load breath, waiting for what she does next. Next thing I know she's taken that bit of skin into her teeth and pulled out, sending a jolt of passion throughout my body.
"Hrroww!" I shout through the gag, head shooting up from the bed and looking down at her.
She throws me her most sadistic grin and lets it go before turning to my other thigh. Taking that section into her mouth she repeats the action, causing another explosion to ripple through my body. My core aches, my lizard brain begging me to submit so that she can begin to truly punish me but I resolve myself to hang on a bit longer. If I let her win so early, the game is designed for me to "lose" but also win in the terms of orgasms, it will go straight to her head. A mistress needs a healthy but not too large ego so I fight against the urges, trying my best to hold on. With each bite, which she alternates with light kisses, I feel that resolve start to weaken. Looking down I see that there a red, circular marks up and down the insides of my thighs. Right as she has my clit between her lips, sucking in as hard as she can and pushing me right about over the edge, there's a very loud banging at the door. My whole body jumps, straining against the bonds. Jenna, meanwhile, doesn't flinch. Instead she shoots me another annoyed look and takes her time walking to the door. I let my body go limp, I was so close to giving her the sign.
"Is she presentable?" I hear a gruff voice from the other side of the cracked door.
"Five minuets, Captain." Jenna gives a curt response and shuts the door again.
