123. Tonight
123
Tonight
W illow
I managed to finish my shower, then tucked a towel around myself for the walk to our tent. From what I’ll be showing the galaxy later tonight and what I just showed them in the shower, I don’t worry about my modesty. Living trumps propriety any day.
There’s one big bed in our tent. It’s a clear indication of what the network expects to happen. On Down to Two , the contestants were dosed with aphrodisiacs to perform for the viewers who purchased the pay-per-view Pleasure Packages.
I hope they save the aphrodisiacs until tomorrow. I want what happens with Valor and me to be the only game in town tonight. We’ll need all the credits we can earn.
I change into the clothes they provided. It’s a filmy, see-through tunic and tiny, matching panties leaving nothing to the imagination. They equipped me with a set of coveralls big enough for a Charthian bodybuilder, but knew my size well enough to provide me with these tiny scraps of clothing. They certainly know what brings in the money.
Valor is wearing the crimson loincloth they provided. It’s just a thin belt around his waist with a see-through flap of gauzy material that does nothing more than cover his cock. If anything, it calls attention to it. The clothes are the same color as our coveralls. All the better to objectify us—the viewers needn’t worry about our names.
Valor laid Braveheart on top of the coverlet. He’s unmoving. His matching outfit sits forlornly at the foot of the bed.
“Dinner in five minutes,” all three of our drones announce in AI voices.
Heedless of the extra time it will take, I sit on the bed, nestle my hip next to Braveheart, and smooth his hair. Leaning down, I whisper in his ear. “We’ll do what it takes, anything we can, to get you the help you need.” Then I reach to kiss his cheek.
Forcing back tears, I swallow the lump in my throat. I care for this male. I want him to live not just because if he dies, it means Valor and I also die. I want him to live because he’s a beautiful soul who deserves so much more than the life he’s been handed.
Staring at my drone, I motion it closer. Whoever is on the joystick for the thing takes a moment to get my drift, but finally, the thing moves to within a foot of me.
“Valor and I are going to give you a show tonight. We’ve been hot for each other since the moment we met in our cell days ago. We’ve tamped back our passion because we didn’t want the other animals in the cells next to us to make noise and do disgusting things while they watched us.”
I pull Valor closer by his bicep, then cup his cock and balls under the gauzy, crimson fabric.
“But you, gentle citizens, won’t do that, will you? You’ll watch respectfully as Valor and I finally give in to the passion that’s been raging between us since the moment we met.”
Touch between my legs, Valor, I hiss into his mind. Touch me as if you’ve been dying to do it since you met me.
Valor
Does she have any idea that’s exactly what I’ve wanted to do since the moment she was thrown into my cell? No. Before that. From the moment I saw them pulling her down the hallway. I took it as a sign from the universe when they tossed her into my cell. I was desperate for it even when I was chemically castrated.
I drag her into my arms and kiss her. This isn’t the soft, sweet, tender kiss I shared with her last night in our cell. A kiss to announce my affection and respect. This is the kiss I wanted to give her last night, but was afraid would scare her with its intensity.
Under the guise of enticing the galaxy to throw their credits our way, I yank her against me, tangle my fingers in her hair, and tip her head back so I have better access to her mouth.
I pay attention to every aspect of this moment. The little “oh” that’s torn from her lips, the drag of her pricked nipples against my bare chest, the way her hands, at first tentative, now bold, grip my shoulders.
I kiss her once, hotly, on her soft, pink lips, then my tongue invades her mouth as I grunt with the joy of possessing her. I memorize her sweet, spicy taste as I plunder deeper. Bending her farther backward, fully supporting her weight, I keep her off balance as I sweep my tongue inside her, claiming every inch of her as my own.
Then, as quickly as I struck, I pull back, make certain she can support her own weight, and retreat from her mouth.
Looking straight into the camera, I say, “I’m going to take her tonight. Again and again, just as I’ve dreamed of doing. But it won’t be for free. Look at our friend there.” I gesture to Braveheart, lying silently on the bed, unmoving. I wait for all three of our drones to focus on him before I say, “He needs our help. To help him, we’ll need your credits. Lots of them. To pay the medic.”
I see the screens with the scroll of team colors and their credits. Perhaps someone in the technical booth took pity on us because our team is at the top of the list. The credits aren’t accumulating, though. We’ll need to start gathering credits fast if we want to save Braveheart’s life.
I twist the fabric at my waist so the flimsy cloth that was meant to cover my cock now drapes over my hip, leaving my manhood exposed. I palm myself slowly as I wait for the drones’ cameras to dip down, to show the galaxy what I’m doing.
I draw it out, knowing we’re expected at dinner and having no doubt Zedd will punish us if we’re one second late. But Braveheart needs the credits to start pouring in.
Ah, now the numbers are changing. The camera person must have panned in, giving the viewers a close-up of my cock. I know it’s big, not simply because I just heard Willow say, Oh my God in my head when I exposed it, but because every female scientist and medic who worked with me at the genefarm used those same words when they took the liberty to inspect me.
“Keep the donations coming in, kind people of the galaxy,” I say through gritted teeth as I try to keep myself from spilling. “Willow and I will stop at nothing to entertain you tonight, but if you want to see the three of us together tomorrow, you must help us save Braveheart tonight.”