Sahara had known that venturing into the Soldan sector was dangerous. Still, it was the best damned place to find free-floating diamonds, and her tracer had found a motherload just hanging here and awaiting harvest.
She’d make her yearly quota in half the time with this one haul. The diamonds were in high demand now, with the emergent technology of diamond-drive. The faceted crystals would “fold” time, creating “jumps” that cut traditional travel into ribbons. A trek from Earth to Mars would take three hours instead of three months.
And these were great specimens, exactly the size she needed.
She’d scooped 25 of the rough rocks when her first alarm sounded.
“FUCK!” she muttered as her scanner identified an Uralian trawler. They were lumbering vehicles, yet they were hard to evade…their tractor beams had some of the longest grab zones in the galaxy.
She withdrew her scooping nets, and shut down sensors. No point in alerting them. If she went out on orbital drive there was a good chance they’d mistake her small sloop for a bit of space debris and leave her alone. She decided to tumble into a free-fall mode and slip free of the diamond field; when she reached the end of the drek zone, she’d slip into hyperdrive and warp the fuck outta there!
She woke, groggy and disoriented.
What the fuck?
The last thing she remembered was tumbling freefall through the scree field…had she hit something? She reached to feel her throbbing head, yet her hand didn’t move. She tugged harder.
She definitely couldn’t move. She tried her other hand, shuffled her feet. Nothing.
What the fuck?
She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until she heard the raspy voice. What the fuck was wrong with her? She could see nothing. No lights from her sensor board; logical since she had turned all to deep sleep mode to avoid the Uralian ship.
So why the fuck couldn’t she move? Had she shut the view screen? It was too fucking dark.
She swore again.
A breeze moved from somewhere across her skin and she shivered.
Okay, now she knew something was up. She had NOT been naked when she was trawling. Gods knew she loved being skin-free, but not while sitting on her bridge. Well, mostly not.
She heard a sound. A hiss. Lights came up around her and arrayed before her was a small pod of Uralians.
:Female humanoid is alert:
She wasn’t sure where the words came from. She didn’t hear anything with her ears. It sort of whispered in her head. With the lights now on, she could see that she was spread-eagled, hands stuck through some kind of clear, plastic material, sunk in up to her wrists, and molded tight around her hands.
The same material held her feet, suspending her a meter off the floor. Like her wrists, her feet were stuck in the material. She looked, she imagined, like a human X.
“Whadda you want, you fuckin’ perverts?” She hadn’t known she was going to say that. Her raspy voice surprised her as well as them, and they drew back from her, visibly flinching.
“Yeah, that’s right, you fuckin’ pussy-assed fucktards…let me fucking GO!” Her voice was a deep pitched growl, and she twisted and writhed in her containment, to no avail.
She was held fast.
“I said, LET. ME. GO. NOW!!” She leaned forward, yelling at the smallest one as she made eye contact with the creature. Gods they were as hideous as reported. Tall, they were indeed. The tallest was close to three meters, the shortest being closer to her own height. Was he short or immature?
She kept her growling diatribe up, aiming it at the littlest one.
The slap came from behind her; she’d forgotten there was one back there. A line of heat slammed down across her back, down her ass, curled around her thigh.
She yelped at the unexpected blow, the touch burning. She saw the creatures tentacle withdraw. He’d fuckin’ hit her with his arm-thingy. She shivered with revulsion.
Again, that mysterious ‘head-voice’.
“Who the fuck are you?” she barked loudly, trying to twist to see behind her. Another slap, this one between her spread thighs. It hurt, the blow was fast and hard.
It also shamed her that it turned her the fuck on. It’d been a long, long time since she’d had bed-play with anyone, and she sure loved to be slapped around. She loved being her own boss during the workdays, but in bed? She wanted to be drug around by her hair, slapped, bitten, and fucked hard like a piece o’ meat.
Likely it’d been 6, maybe 7 months since her last session with Patrick and Valla.
And now here she was, being pussy slapped by a Uralain, and likin’ it. Who was the sick fuck now?
:we do not want to harm you unduly:
:your hole-noises are painful to us:
:you will be hurt when you offer us hurt:
She began to understand. They wouldn’t put up with any shit. She could keep yelling, but they’d keep on hitting her. Eventually they’d harm her. They might not “want to” harm her…but the possibility existed.
“What do you want?” she asked in a quieter voices. The small one winced again.
She braced for another slap. This time she got two, one on her pussy, and one from a fast-moving Uralain in front of her. She’d blinked and it was in front of her, and the tentacle moved like a whip and slapped her hard across her mouth.
She felt the bite of her own teeth cutting her lip, tasted the copper tang of blood. That fuckin’ hurt…but she stopped herself before the beast before her struck her again. Despite the tentacles, they appeared to be bipedal. And they were fast fuckers.
:fine: she thought the word, hard.
:there is no need to shout. we can hear you without ‘thrusting’ your words at us:
She shook her head, trying to absorb the new data.
:will you let me go: She tried letting the thoughts float away.
:FUCK: she mind shouted. Twisting and pulling futilely again, she let panic run amok.
And fainted with the blows that fell from many sides at once.
**to be continued**