Chapter 9 #2
“Ow fucker!” I curse as the lash lands again. “Why do you even have that on you?”
“Language,” Arkon says firmly. “You need to learn to behave yourself again. All that zipping about the universe has given you delusions of authority and rebellion, neither of which will serve you.”
The third time the lash whips against my cheeks, crossing over the previous two and sending a bolt of flame through my body. I squeal again, and am rewarded with three more harsh lashes, each of which all burn even worse.
I know he’s being harsh with me because he was so afraid of losing me and facing that possibility has made him want to control everything, including me, so much more.
“I’m going to teach you how to behave,” he says. “I’m going to teach you what true obedience is. I am never going to let what has happened before happen again.”
Vague, but I get what he means. He thinks if he can just make me super obedient, nothing bad will happen again. He’s wrong, of course, but he can’t help the impulse to control. It’s built into him like each of his four arms.
He turns the handle of the whip around. It is a smooth material with a slightly ridged handle for better grip. It is thicker than a human cock, somewhere between the size of his two cocks in girth. I know this intimately, because he has begun to press it up inside me.
He fucks me slowly with the tip of the handle, pinning me in place with his many hands.
“Why,” I whimper as he commits this perversion against me. I’d understand it if he fucked me. That would make sense. But he’s not fucking me. He’s using a proxy to stretch my pussy.
“Because,” he says, understanding my question even though he is missing half of it. “This is not about sex for me. This is about establishing dominion over you before you have my child, before you become an interstellar menace, before I lose you again.”
He presses it more deeply inside me, those ridges working the slick walls of my interior with devastating efficacy.
It’s pleasure, but it’s a pointed, dominant kind of pleasure.
He’s making it very clear to me that he is going to turn both my pain and my erotic desires into places where he controls me.
Arkon has always been my boss. From very nearly the moment we met he had control of me and he ensured my submission through discipline, but not as much as I really needed. He left part of me feral, lawless, and wanting to explore all the worlds I could.
“You are mine,” he growls. “Mine.”
He keeps the handle moving inside me, all the way to the hilt of the handle, then out again in a slow stroke that makes my lips grip every ridge on the way out.
“I can keep you here, just like this, for as long as it takes to teach you what actual obedience looks like,” he threatens.
“This pussy has always been the best way to get your attention. So I am going to get your attention by making both your pussy and your ass nice and sore, until I think you’ve finally understood what I expect from you. ”
He fucks me with that handle for what feels like an eternity, slowly forcing it inside my soaking pussy and then pulling it free over and over for hundreds of impossibly stern strokes. I wriggle and writhe and I complain, too.
“This is too much…”
He gives me a light slap and keeps the handle moving inside my dripping pussy. “Oh, no. It’s not. It might be a fraction of what you need. Time will tell.”
“What will it tell?” It’s so hard to ask questions when I’m being manually fucked with an alien discipline dildo.
“How long you take to break for me, my love.”
“Never,” I say.
“Never say never,” he responds, sounding almost human as he slowly works that damn tool in and out of me, stimulating my pussy without giving me the clitoral satisfaction I crave.
I can’t come. I just have to lie here and feel myself being sternly fucked.
It’s not the worst thing that ever happened.
As much as he might be trying to teach me a lesson, I am easily aroused and this is doing it for me far more than being whipped was.
There is a rumble, and a faint sound of screaming. Something like distress, but more intense, as if thousands of junior engineers cried out at once.
A hand comes crashing through the exterior wall. I say a hand, but only two fingers can make it through. Those two fingers pluck me up as finely as if they were surgical tools, whipping me away from Arkon and to the relatively un-fucked safety of her palm.
She grips me in her massive hand and pulls me out of the building, carefully keeping me inside the atmosphere, which is nice because choking to death outside would be a bad time.
I find myself on her palm so far above the ground I would definitely die if I fell.
But I do not intend to fall. And I do not think she would let me even if I wanted to.
I can see Arkon staring through the fist-shaped hole in the wall. He looks something between confused and very angry.
* * *
Arkon
Just when I think the process of mad-sciencing a goddess into being has had enough unintended side effects, along comes another unexpected event.
I don’t know how the hell any of that happened, but I do know that the Fematrix is not responding to my cues, and that my human mate is in as precarious a position as she has ever been.
I was just trying to keep her safe, and now…
“Drak! What the hell!”
I have stormed off to find the only person capable of dealing with this. I am glad I did not kill him as I wanted to when I first discovered he’d sawed my lover’s brain out of her skull and installed it in the machine.
I didn’t kill him.
But I did make his life very unpleasant.
Drak is in the cage in my bedroom. Not a perfect place for him, rather small, but it is the most humiliating place I could think of to make him stay while I think of somewhere worse for him to be.
I find him sitting on the floor with his back against the bars, apparently unconcerned by his predicament when I burst in.
“Which hell are we referring to?” He asks the question far too calmly for my liking.
“The one where that fucking robot put its fist through the side of our facility and took Evie while I was trying to punish her.”
“Ah,” he says. “Interesting. I wondered if something like this might happen.”
It seems to me that the last few days have consisted of almost nothing but wanting to kill this man while simultaneously reminding myself I need him alive. We all do.
“Something like what?” I ask the question through gritted teeth.
“If it is as you say it is, it would seem that the machine has bonded with her. There are circuits upon circuits inside the goddess, so many that she is effectively a more conscious brain than some, or perhaps most humans.”
“And how do I get the machine to return her?”
“She’ll likely do that in her own time, when she is satisfied that Evie is not in any danger.”
“She was never in any danger from me,” I say. “I was trying to discipline her.”
“Fine line for a creature like the Fematrix to discern,” Drak says, inspecting his fingernails. “I could put in a word for you, I suppose. Perhaps re-engineer a few circuits to make things like this less likely?”
“If you can, then you must.”
“I must do nothing,” he says, glancing at me with a cutting look. “You are asking for a favor, and that favor is not owed to you in the slightest. If I do this, I will want my freedom.”
“You don’t deserve freedom,” I say.
“And arguably, you don’t deserve a human mate.
Or any mate. You don’t deserve anything more or less than me.
We’ve both been building a weapon capable of mass destruction and trying to, one way or another, stick a human to it.
You’re not better than me just because you discovered the fact you like sticking your cocks in her. ”
He makes this argument on his knees, his three hands wrapped around three different bars. He looks silly. And he’s partially right.
“You can let me out and give me my freedom, or she can take her chances with the Fematrix and whatever the machine has decided is best for her.”
“You’re telling me the machine wants her back?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I could possibly know, if I could look at the outputs and had access to my office. But I don’t know, because I’m in a fucking crate in your fetid excuse for a bedroom.”
I have no choice. I unlock the cage and let him out. “Don’t do anything to hurt her,” I say.
“Don’t worry,” he replies. “At this stage, I am much more invested in the prospect of hurting you. You, my friend, are becoming incredibly hurtable.”
“Go and help her, or I am going to stuff you inside an even smaller cage,” I growl.
In this manner, he and I go outside, where he sees that the Fematrix has indeed inserted herself partway into the livable atmosphere of the asteroid, and has Evie seated on her open, upturned palm.
“Amazing,” Drak says. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“Make it stop,” I reply.
“Fematrix, would you please give my friend his favorite human fuck toy back?” Drak asks the question in the most sarcastic of tones, then glances over his shoulder at me.
“I guess she can’t hear me from here. I suppose I would need to be inside the building and using the machines we use to communicate with the machine. ”
He could win awards for his current levels of passive-aggression. They are truly impressive to behold. I restrain myself as he walks inside the building in no particular hurry. He is spending far too much time gazing up at the Fematrix and her prisoner.
“Please go fix this,” I say, experiencing absolute god-tier levels of internal rage. “If the robot decides to make off with my mate, then I can promise you the resulting rampage will go down in history as some kind of incomparable crime.”
Drak smirks at me, then nods. He goes inside, while I remain outside, where I can see Evie. Rescuers have been mobilized to get her down with ladders and such. I can hear a buzz of conversation that also include the potential of sending up small shuttles.