Chapter 2 #4
The unexpected and soothing attention by his new master proved a nice interlude to his otherwise frightening existence.
For a while, he felt bizarrely enveloped in a safe zone, as if nothing could touch him, kneeling there between the powerful legs of a being that should have scared him more than it did at the moment.
The buzz of the cantina and its strange inhabitants bled away until Frey’s universe collapsed to the gentle tugging of his hair, the occasional pauses while his master sipped at his drink and Preen’s soft chuffing, as if the creature chafed with boredom.
Frey didn’t care. He wasn’t in pain, and that was not insignificant.
Being afraid, hungry and cold was exhausting.
He welcomed the reprieve, even though he assumed it would be short-lived.
The peace of Frey’s unusual sanctuary shattered with the sudden approach of a being with heavy footsteps.
Startled, Frey instinctively sat up straighter and eyed the lizard-like creature clomping up to the bench opposite where the Travian sat.
Frey had seen this species before. Upright, four-limbed and tailless, the being nevertheless possessed scaly features that were visible everywhere the long robe it wore didn’t cover.
The thing could have easily come out of the makeup department for a low budget sci-fi vid.
Arpell had dealt with this species before, making obviously shady deals involving arms, as near as Frey could tell.
The only good thing was that none of the creatures had shown any interest in making use of Frey’s body.
The sight of the yellow eyes and rows of sharp teeth still made Frey’s blood run cold.
It often seemed as if humans were among the smallest, weakest species in the whole universe.
His master halted his plaiting, having finished one side of Frey’s head.
He placed a large, warm palm on Frey’s shoulder, as if in reassurance—except that couldn’t be right.
What would the Travian care if the approach of this interloper bothered a mere pet?
It was probably meant as a warning to behave.
No problem there. Frey had no intention of getting anywhere near those unshod clawed feet that stood a few meters from Frey’s knees.
With a swish of his robes, the creature sat down heavily on the bench against the wall. “I trust you don’t mind the company,” the creature said in a gravelly voice.
Frey’s master said nothing in response at first. He simply started in on braiding the other side of Frey’s head.
“I occupy only one seat, as you can see. I hold no claim on the one you’ve taken.
” Even with the tinny cadence created by the translator in Frey’s head, he could hear the Travian’s dismissive tone.
The lizard man inclined his head before ordering a drink from his processor. He slurped up some before speaking again. “As you say, but, in my dealings with Travians, I find your species can be quite proprietary in ways I don’t understand.”
Silenced reigned, Frey’s master making no attempt at small talk with the stranger. He just kept working the second piece of ribbon into Frey’s hair. If the Travian felt any awkwardness in the situation, he didn’t convey it in any way.
The other alien tried again in a more direct way this time. “Such an interesting pet you have there. Unusual coloring. You won it off Arpell, I believe.”
Sudden terror flushed through Frey at the creature’s attention.
Oh, God. Maybe the creature was interested in him after all.
Whatever such a being would do to him would surely kill him—and horribly at that.
The Travian stilled his weaving fingers and once more placed his heavy palm on Frey’s shoulders.
This time, Frey could feel the possessiveness in the gesture, and the sudden relief it gave him made his head spin.
He couldn’t stop himself from leaning on his master’s thigh again.
The Travian squeezed Frey’s shoulder then restarting the braiding. “Yes.” If the lizard man had hoped for more of a response, he was left disappointed.
He still didn’t give up. Whatever agenda he had in coming over, he was determined to see it through.
“I am called K-Zet.” A moment passed in which there was no response.
The creature sucked some more of his drink before trying yet again.
“May I ask the name of the clever Travian that outplayed Arpell?”
Frey’s master tied off the second ribbon and ran his hand down the back of Frey’s head then finally answered. “I am Rone.”
Even with his gaze turned downward, Frey could see the sudden flash of interest lighting up the alien’s face. “Indeed? Such an eminent member of Travian society. What brings you to our humble station?”
Frey didn’t understand what about his new master’s name was so impressive.
But, he had a name now. He rolled it around his mental tongue and found he liked the sound of it.
Simple, yet strong—much like the male himself, from what Frey had seen so far.
He could feel Rone shift, leaning back, bringing Frey with him so that Frey ended up nestling Rone’s crotch.
It was a disconcerting place to rest. The Travian’s heavy cock and large balls pushed against even the thick fabric of his tunic and pants.
They pressed the back of Frey’s neck in an alarming fashion.
Rone carded his fingers, though, through the loose strands of Frey’s hair between the new braids.
The touch soothed Frey’s jangling nerves.
He heard Rone take a long swallow of his drink.
The guy seemed entirely uncaring of the other creature’s presence or any need to respond to his questions.
After a long period of silence, Rone finally answered.
“I am no one of consequence by my people’s standards, regardless of the accident of my birth. I am, however, a male in search of opportunities.” Another moment of awkward silence ensued, punctuated by a gulp of liquid. “I’ve heard this station might offer some.”
The cryptic response seemed to please the lizard man.
He slurped down his own drink and left his mouth open wide in a freaky form of a grin.
“Ah, yes. There are so many different species in the known universe, yet we all seem to be driven to obtain things of value. I myself deal in, shall we say, exotic goods.”
Rone’s petting paused a moment. “I doubt you’ll find much of that here. My own interests are more basic, shall we say?” His snarky tone came easily through the translator. Frey couldn’t help but be impressed with his master’s laid-back attitude. Nothing fazed him.
“Indeed? I understand. There is always a market for everything, and I have many contacts here and on other stations.” When Rone said nothing in response, the alien continued. “I can be a useful ally for those that impress me, such as yourself.”
“For a small fee, of course.”
Rows of razor sharp teeth flashed again.
“Of course. However, you’ll find that I am a reasonable fellow.
I always deliver, and as a small proof of my usefulness, I would be delighted to exchange your unexpected winnings into something more lucrative for you.
Such an exotic creature would fetch a high price. ”
Rone’s fingers stilled once more. With an alarming swiftness, the Travian grabbed Frey by his shoulders and, pulling him up, turned him around.
In the blink of an eye, Frey found himself facing his master’s crotch.
Already the package he’d felt there had grown with a hardening cock.
Pressure on the back of his head moved him forward.
The unspoken command was clear. He’d been here many times before.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he reached up and opened his master’s fly.
He told himself that no matter how humiliating it was to service his master in public, it paled in comparison to being sold to the loathsome lizard man.
If Frey gave a good blow job, maybe Rone would keep him.
Rone increased the pressure, tightening his fingers against Frey’s skull. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my feelings on Arpell’s unusual wager. I find I like owning this particular pet. It has a certain skill that I appreciate.”
The hot and heavy dick sprang free the moment Frey pushed the fabric of the pants aside.
Pale as Travians were, this part of them darkened a bit, just like with humans.
A thick, bluish vein pulsed up the underside of the shaft, another testament to how much like humans the species was.
A pearly drop of cum pulsed up from the tip, even as Frey licked his lips to take the dick more smoothly into his mouth.
By the time he actually sucked down the large head, even more pre-cum had leaked out.
Travian balls produced a copious amount of fluid before, during and after coming.
And while Frey loathed the taste, he much preferred giving a blow job to being fucked, especially in public.
He relaxed his throat as he’d learned to do, otherwise he’d gag immediately when his master thrust deep inside, except that didn’t happen.
Despite keeping a death grip on Frey’s head, Rone didn’t choke him with the long and thick alien cock.
Instead, he let Frey control the descent.
Frey knew a moment of surprise but didn’t question his good fortune.
He clasped the base of the rod and sucked on it as best he could.
He’d learned from his time with Arpell to make liberal use of his tongue, laving while he vigorously sucked.
The better he made the blow job, the happier the male he serviced would be, and the faster it would be over.
Sure, sometimes the repellent aliens who’d made use of his body had liked to simply face-fuck him.
They’d enjoyed making him gag and struggle with tears streaming down his face.
Most of them, though, liked it better when he acted as if the cock in his mouth were his favorite treat.
Rone was different, unlike any of the other aliens.
He not only let Frey set the pace, he also didn’t react in any noticeable way.
Other than the dick expanding and pulsing within Frey’s mouth, Rone appeared blasé about the whole thing.
The Travian silently sat, sipping at his drink, through his pet’s sucking and laving.
If he enjoyed the experience, he seemed above showing it.
When Frey dared to peer up, at a point at which just the leaking head rested in his mouth, he met his master’s heavy-lidded stare.
Those freaky all-black eyes made it impossible to read the thoughts behind them.
Yet, Frey didn’t perceive any menace, and that was something.
He dropped his gaze, not wanting to be accused of insolence, and he redoubled his efforts.
His master might not be moved much by the attention from his pet, but Frey could feel the lizard man watching avidly.
It creeped Frey out too much to dawdle over his task.
Rone made the slightest of sounds as he came suddenly.
Frey almost missed the onslaught. Arpell had always grunted obscenely before flooding Frey’s throat.
The only warning he got from this new master was an extra swelling of the dick lodged in his mouth.
He managed to swallow every drop, though, just as he’d been trained to do.
Letting any of it dribble out of his mouth had always earned him a swift punch.
His stomach tried to rebel, as usual. He hated the bitter taste that splashed back on his tongue.
He pushed down the bile and kept working his throat to get it all down until Rone’s dick stopped pulsing.
When he tried to pull back and let go of the cock, his master allowed him, although he didn’t release his hold on Frey’s head.
Instead, Rone did something truly shocking.
He stuck his drink against Frey’s lips and wordlessly commanded his pet to open his mouth once more.
Frey did as he was told, like a good little slave, and realized he was grateful for it when a sweetish liquid replaced the cum.
By the time Rone pulled the vessel back, Frey had a nice taste lingering in his mouth.
Pathetically grateful for the consideration, he looked up at his master and, for the first time since his capture, he smiled.