Chapter 9 Dom #2
I don't care, I'm deliriously grateful to slide back into my skin with Law-rah. The human is somewhere behind me judging from the soft puff of her breath, and then the click of her weaponized shoes tells me she's walking back in front to inspect me there.
I take deeper breaths, the strain beginning to bed into my chest muscles, adding a deeper layer to the sensations rolling over me.
“May I touch your stomach?” she asks.
“Yes,” I breathe, and her firm, possessive touch alights on my right hip, then moves across my abdominals. They’re stretched out, taut, my scales shimmering in all directions as she brushes me, no doubt rippling in different colors to match the emotions chasing one another through my body.
The pad of her fingers slips down and onto the lip of my canvas pants, and I jerk in surprise.
“I’m curious what you have down here,” she says, her voice throbbing.
My arm muscles tremble not from the work–I could hang here for hours–but from the mere idea of her exploring me.
“Do you want me to see?” she asks.
I do, but from the imaginings Nevare uncovered, I know what I have won't be what she's expecting. “I might not please you.”
“I'll be the judge of that.”
I drop my head. My chest feels tight, but in a good way. “Then yes. Yes, please.”
“Good, I love how honest you’re being,” she says, and no praise from my commander has ever felt so fulfilling.
She tugs at my belt and quickly unlatches the mechanism while my mind buzzes. Her deft fingers find the ties and then my coverings lighten, loosen, slide down my hips a little as they gape open.
I tip my head back at the delicious agony of exposure, hating and loving it, the squirmy feeling in my stomach in counterpoint to the heat dancing over my scales. What will she think of me? Will she be afraid, or eager?
As if she’s read my mental waves, she says, “You can open your eyes if you want.”
I crack my eyes open to watch her, drinking in the flush on her face, her red lips parted and her tiny pink tongue playing over her blunt teeth.
Her fingers slide into the opening of my pants, and the heat turns fiery.
I let out a low moan as her nails scrape my carapace before I snap my jaw shut tight.
“What's this?”
Fully opening my eyes, I look down. My sleek carapace hangs at her eye level, the darker purple shade nearly black in the half-light of the shed.
My throat has dried to baked plascrete. “It's a protective casing. Parthiastocks might be attacked by lawbreakers, and this keeps my one weakness safe.”
“You sound like Superman. That’s a story we have about a man with superhuman powers who only had a single vulnerability, too. He was an alien as well, come to think of it.” Her words wash over me as her nails click against the hard shell covering my most intimate organs.
I press my hips toward her, acting on some buried instinct that has nothing to do with Parthiastock training.
I want her to hold me. I want her to touch me.
Where’s this desire coming from?
She breathes, “So. What do you look like?”
“Do you want me to show you?” My breathing goes ragged.
“Please.” I can hear the undercurrent of her voice: a slight warble, a wobble. She's excited, too.
I forcibly make my carapace relax, the hard casing easing open with a hiss.
Law-rah gasps. “What is that?”
My crinis emerges, tendrils sliding over one another. White fluid leaks from their tips, pulsing in time with my rapid heartbeats and filling the air with a fruity smell. The engorged tentacles keep coming, bringing my thick cock along with them to spring free.
“My sex organs,” I explain, watching her face.
Her eyes are wide, red lips still. Is she afraid?
“I won't hurt you,” I begin.
“I… I know you won't.” Then she flashes me a smile. “Not unless I ask nicely.”
I shake my head. “Not even then. I will never hurt you.”
Her eyes go liquid, but then she flaps her hand. “In the context of play, I like a slap to my ass every now and again, but if it's a limit for you I'll respect it,” she says, candid, still staring at my writhing crinis.
It's so different to her imaginings that a need to reassure her wells up inside me. “The crinis protects my sex organ, my cock.” My cock is thick, bulbous in the middle with small plates on the head and rim. These flare out now, something I haven't seen before.
“And lubricates it, by the looks of it.” She takes a step back, studying me as if I’m a new species, captured and spread out for an examination.
Why is that thought making my cock swell harder, the plates rising like that? Her gaze tracing my intimate organs make my crinis writhe.
She smirks up at me. “You like being exposed.”
As soon as she says it, it rings for truth. “I suppose I do.”
“What else do you like?”
“Truthfully, I don't know. I've never had female attention like this.” On me, my naked body bared for her viewing pleasure, my cock stiff and wanting, my crinis nearly tangling with longing.
The circumstance I find myself in only adds to the pleasure.
“I'm one of a thousand Parthiastock clones, no female has ever wanted me.”
Except you, I want to say. My thoughts spread out in a tight band as if I'm sending just to her, even though I know she's not a psychic. Use me for as long as you want. Play with me until I bore you, because I promise, I won't disappoint you.
“A true virgin, huh.” She looks at me thoughtfully, opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it again. “We will take it slow.”
I don't want slow. I want her hands on me, possessive and soft or hard and sharp, forcing me in my body and pushing me to the edge of what I can endure.
Her gaze slides back to my aching cock and the crown of writhing crinis surrounding it. “Being honest, I'll need to work myself up to tackling you,” she says, “but I've never backed away from a challenge.”
Based on her reaction, it seems she's confident with sex organs. Discomfort spikes through me at the idea of her handling other cocks, but I quickly brush it aside. “Does it measure up to your standards?”
“It’s out of this world, a real monster fucker’s dream.” Her pink tongue dashes out, wetting her lips. “You’ll make some adventurous mate very, very happy, and human guys extremely envious.”
The warm flash of pride is accompanied by an ache because, already, she’s thinking of where I go after her.
Even though I know that, it still pangs.
Deep within, my secret desire ignites. This is for me, not just so I can center myself to be the best Base I can be for Nevare.
I want to explore mate things in this play, with Law-rah…
because I’ll never have a mate of my own.
I can't keep Law-rah, so I have to enjoy this while I can.
Law-rah steps away and already I feel her loss, my crinis writhing after her and my cock swollen stiff.
“Come down now, and pull your pants up,” she says, and I drop down to the ground at her order.
My muscles burn as I lower them to my sides, and for the first time, I lean away instead of into the pain.
It used to center me, bringing me into focus, but this brief session with Laura has centered me unlike anything else.
“How was that for you?” she asks, her voice husky, her form shadowed, as if she's wrapped her curves in shade.
“Perfect,” I say. “I feel… mentally balanced. At equilibrium.”
“Well, great. I… enjoyed that too.”
A wave of heat burns up from my cock as my crinis wraps around it, surrounding my vulnerable organ. An entirely pleasant sensation. “Good. I am glad to serve you.”
Eyes bright in the dark, Law-rah says, “I’ve got an idea for our first, um, scene.”
Already my body is sore and wanting, for what I don’t know exactly, but I trust Law-rah to lead me. “I’ll be waiting,” I respond hoarsely.
“How do you like the idea of oral sex?” She flushes when she says it, as if her skin takes on the shadows wrapping around us. “If you're up for it, I'm happy to go down on you with a condom, and I think I'd quite like to sit on your face.”
“Sit on my…?”
“I mean, you can kiss me with your lips and tongue down here.” She pats the part where her legs connect with her torso, where my carapace is. Perhaps she has one too, protecting her own sex organs.
I can't wait to find out. The scenario floods into me: Law-rah, her body lowering onto mine, wrapping us in a private world and enveloping me in her scent.
My crinis writhes again, too excited to be subdued into my canvas covering. She glances at it, then grins at me. “Nice to see you enjoyed the taster.”
“I truly did.” My limbs shake, full of energy as if she's charged me.
And then Nevare screams in my head.