Chapter 30 #3
“I want to hear you,” Mila said. “Don’t you dare hold back. Let me hear what I do to you.”
Her finger began to move faster, thrusting deeper, and Carmen couldn’t have stayed quiet if she’d tried.
Moans and gasps and broken pleas spilled from her lips, echoing in the engineering bay.
The dual sensation of Mila’s hand in her hair, controlling her, and Mila’s finger inside her, fucking her, overwhelmed her.
“That’s it,” Mila praised, her voice rough with her own arousal. “Such pretty sounds. Such a good girl, taking what I give you.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching Carmen wider. She gasped, her body adjusting to the fuller sensation, the increased breadth making her thighs tremble.
“More,” Carmen begged, pushing back against Mila’s hand. “Please, Mila, more.”
Mila’s fingers drove deeper, faster, the angle perfect in this position. Carmen’s vision whited out at the edges.
“You’re going to cum for me,” Mila growled. “You’re going to cum hard, screaming my name, and everyone on this ship is going to know that you’re mine. That I own you.”
“Yes!” Carmen sobbed. “Yes, yours. I’m yours.”
The orgasm built like a wave gathering force, inevitable, unstoppable. Carmen could feel it cresting, right there, just one more thrust—
But Mila withdrew her fingers completely. Carmen wailed in frustration, her body clenching around nothing, the denial so acute it was almost painful.
“Not yet,” Mila said, her voice dark with satisfaction. “Get on your hands and knees. Now.”
Carmen’s legs were shaking so badly she nearly collapsed as she lowered herself to the deck plating.
The metal was cold and hard beneath her palms and knees, unforgiving.
Her pants were still tangled around her ankles, restricting her movement, keeping her legs from spreading as wide as she wanted. She felt debased, desperate.
Free.
Mila moved behind her, one hand returning to Carmen’s hair, fisting it, pulling her head back. The other hand slid between her legs again, two fingers plunging back inside without warning or mercy.
“This is what you need,” Mila growled, her breath hot against Carmen’s ear as she leaned over her. “To be taken. Used. Fucked like the desperate little thing you are. No control. No decisions. Just my hand on your pussy and my voice in your ear telling you when you’re allowed to cum.”
Carmen could only moan in response, her mind fracturing under the onslaught of sensation. Mila’s fingers pistoned faster, harder, the angle deeper in this position. The grip in her hair kept her head pulled back, her spine arched, completely at Mila’s mercy.
“Touch yourself,” Mila commanded. “Show me how desperate you are.”
Carmen’s hand flew between her legs, fingers finding her swollen clitoris, rubbing frantic circles.
The dual stimulation – her own fingers and Mila’s – pushed her closer to the edge with terrifying speed.
The coil in her belly wound tighter and tighter, her thighs trembling, her breath coming in sobbing gasps.
“Please,” Carmen begged, tears streaming down her face from the intensity. “Please, Mila, please let me cum. I can’t … I need….”
“That’s it,” Mila purred. “Right there. Feel it building. Feel how close you are.”
Carmen balanced on the knife’s edge, every muscle pulled taut, her core clenching rhythmically around Mila’s fingers. Just a little more, just a few more seconds …
Mila stopped. Her fingers stilled completely, buried deep but not moving.
“NO!” Carmen screamed, her whole body shaking with the denial. “Please, God, please.”
“Not yet,” Mila said, and there was steel beneath the silk of her voice. “You cum when I say. Not before. Do you understand?”
Carmen sobbed, her body quaking with desperate, unfulfilled need. She’d never felt anything like this – denied twice now, wound so tight she thought she might shatter.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good girl.” Mila’s fingers began to move again, slow and deliberate. “Now we’ll see how much you can take.”
She built Carmen up again, methodical and relentless. Her fingers drove deep, curling to hit that sweet spot with every thrust, her other hand keeping Carmen’s head pulled back, controlling her completely.
The orgasm built again, faster this time, more intense. Carmen’s whole body was a livewire, every nerve ending screaming. She was right at the edge, teetering, about to fall.
“Now I’m going to fill you properly,” Mila growled. “I’m going to stretch you wide and fuck you until you break.”
Carmen felt a third finger pressing against her entrance alongside the other two. Panic flared. No, that was too much, she was too restricted by the pants, she couldn’t open enough….
“Mila, I can’t. The pants, I can’t spread—”
“You’ll take it,” Mila said, her voice absolute. “Trust me.”
She pushed, and Carmen felt the stretch, the burn, but she couldn’t open wide enough. A whimper of fear escaped her throat.
Then Mila’s hand left Carmen’s hair. She pressed on the back of Carmen’s head, forcing it down, down, until Carmen’s cheek was pressed against the cold deck plating. The position lifted Carmen’s hips higher, changed the angle completely, and suddenly there was space.
The third finger pushed inside.
Carmen screamed. The stretch was intense, almost too much, walking the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain.
She felt utterly filled, utterly claimed, split open and vulnerable.
Her hands scrabbled against the deck, seeking purchase, finding none.
She was completely at Mila’s mercy, face pressed to the floor, ass in the air, unable to escape, unable to control anything.
And it was perfect.
“There you go,” Mila praised, her voice rough with arousal. “Taking all three. Such a good girl. Look how well you open for me when you stop fighting.”
All three fingers drove deep, stretching Carmen wider than she’d ever been.
The fullness was overwhelming, the angle devastating.
Carmen couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel –the burn of the stretch, the pressure against her inner walls, the devastating drag of Mila’s fingers against that spot inside her.
“Now,” Mila growled, her pace becoming punishing. “Now you’re going to come for me. You’re going to come so hard you forget your own name. Touch yourself. Make yourself come on my fingers while I fuck you.”
Carmen’s hand flew back to her clit, rubbing desperately. The combination of sensations – three fingers stretching her impossibly wide, the relentless thrust, her own frantic touch, her face pressed to the deck in complete submission – shattered her.
“Cum,” Mila commanded. “Now.”
The orgasm detonated through Carmen like a supernova, white-hot and obliterating.
She screamed – raw, ragged, wordless – the sound echoing through Engineering, through the corridors beyond.
Her body convulsed violently, every muscle seizing, her core clamping down on Mila’s fingers with brutal force.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, each one more intense than the last, obliterating thought, obliterating fear, obliterating everything but the sensation of Mila’s possession.
She saw stars, not on viewscreens, but behind her eyelids, entire galaxies exploding and reforming. Her body bucked and thrashed, mindless, and only Mila’s hand buried inside her and the deck beneath her face kept her grounded, kept her from flying apart completely.
The climax seemed endless, rolling on and on, each pulse sending fresh shockwaves through her over-sensitized body.
The fear she’d felt at being stretched so wide had transformed into something transcendent—the joy of complete surrender, of trusting someone else to take her beyond her limits, to show her what her body could feel when she finally, finally let go of control.
Carmen sobbed with the intensity of it, tears and sweat and arousal mixing, her whole being reduced to pure sensation. She’d never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, so completely possessed.
So incredibly free.
Finally, agonizingly slowly, the waves began to recede. Carmen collapsed completely, her cheek still pressed against the cold deck, her body limp and trembling. Every muscle felt like liquid. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her throat raw from screaming.
Mila’s fingers were still inside her, and Carmen could feel the aftershocks still pulsing through her core, her body clenching weakly around the intrusion.
“Look at you,” Mila murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Completely wrecked. Totally mine.”
She began to withdraw her fingers slowly, deliberately, making Carmen feel every inch of the movement. Carmen whimpered at the drag, at the emptiness that followed. Her body felt hollow, used, marked.
But Mila wasn’t done.
Those slick fingers dragged across Carmen’s inner thigh, leaving a wet trail.
Carmen shuddered at the touch, oversensitive, overwhelmed.
Mila’s hand moved higher, across the curve of Carmen’s ass, fingers trailing lazily, possessively.
Then between her ass cheeks, making Carmen jolt at the intimate touch, a fresh wave of heat and shame flooding through her.
“Feel that?” Mila asked, her voice low and commanding. Her fingers traced up Carmen’s spine, leaving a glistening path on her soft brown skin. “That’s all you, Carmen. That’s what I did to you. What you let me do to you.”
Carmen could only whimper in response, her face burning.
Mila’s hand came to rest at the small of Carmen’s back, fingers splayed wide.
“Tell me,” she commanded. “Tell me what happened here.”
“You ...” Carmen’s voice was hoarse, wrecked. “You fucked me.”
“More than that.” Mila’s fingers pressed down, almost painful against Carmen’s sensitive skin. “Tell me the truth. What did I do to you?”
Carmen’s breath hitched.
“You ... you took control. You made me ... surrender.”
“Good.” Mila’s hand slid back down, over Carmen’s ass, between her legs again. Carmen gasped as those fingers stroked through her oversensitive folds, gathering more wetness. “And whose pussy is this now?”
“Yours,” Carmen whispered.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yours! It’s yours, Mila.”
“That’s right.” Mila brought her hand up, those three fingers glistening in the harsh work lights. She pressed them to Carmen’s lips. “Open your mouth. Taste what I did to you.”
Carmen’s eyes widened, but she obeyed. Her lips parted, and Mila pushed her fingers inside. The taste was salt and musk and pure sex: Carmen’s own arousal, the evidence of her complete surrender.
“Suck,” Mila ordered.
Carmen obeyed, her tongue working around Mila’s fingers, tasting herself, feeling the intimacy of the act, cleaning Mila’s fingers with her mouth after they’d been buried so deep inside her.
“Good girl,” Mila praised, withdrawing her fingers slowly from Carmen’s mouth. She traced them across Carmen’s lips, her jaw, down her neck. “This is mine now. Your body. Your pleasure. Your surrender. All of it belongs to me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Carmen said, and felt the truth of it settle into her bones. She was marked. Claimed. Owned.
And God help her, she’d never felt freer.
“Good.” Mila’s other hand stroked soothingly down Carmen’s spine. “Now rest. I’ve got you.”
And for once, for possibly the first time in her life, Carmen believed it. Someone else had taken the burden. Someone else had made the decisions. And she had survived. More than survived.
She had been transformed.
Mila helped her roll onto her side, gathering her into strong arms. Carmen pressed her face against Mila’s furred chest, inhaling that sweet scent now mixed with the musk of sex and sweat.
She felt tears leaking from her eyes, not from sadness or pain, but from the overwhelming release of at last letting go.
“I’ve got you,” Mila whispered again, pressing soft kisses to Carmen’s sweat-dampened hair. “You did so well. So perfect for me.”
Carmen’s throat was too tight to speak. Mila held her through the trembling, through the aftershocks, her clawed fingers tracing gentle patterns on Carmen’s bare skin, soothing, grounding her as she slowly came back to herself.
“Mila …” Carmen finally managed, her voice hoarse and wrecked.
“Shh,” Mila soothed. “Rest now. We have work to do, but first, you rest.”
And Carmen did, letting the weight of command slip away, letting someone else hold her together while she fell apart.