Celeste was in her cage one day, thinking rebellious thoughts as usual, when, as always, in spite of her promises to herself to hate him, the sound of the door opening made her heart skip a beat. An unwelcome rush of excitement passed through her as Alistair entered the room. She restrained the urge to smile and instead shifted as far back in her cage as possible, her upper lip curled back over her teeth in a snarl as he drew closer. His eyes were always somewhat unsettling, the dark pupil and the light pupil focused on her in a singular gaze that made her stomach do flips.
He approached the cage and crooked one long finger at her.
“Come here, pet.”
“Go away, I’m not your pet.”
He gave her a steady look. “I have ways of proving otherwise to you.”
“Oh, I am certain you do,” she shot back at him. “Just as I have ways of proving you are nothing more than a perverted brute who will soon be a footnote in the history books.”
“You are in a fine temper, aren’t you,” he noted without any real concern. She found his gaze disconcerting, and not just because of the different colors of his eyes, but because he was looking at her in such a calculating, knowing fashion that she felt as though he could see every thought in her head.
“Leave me alone,” she repeated.
“I thought you might like to spend some time outside the cage,” he replied. “You seem to hate it so much. Would you like to come out, pet?”
She would have given almost anything to step outside the bars… except be grateful to him for his small concession, or admit that she was his to call pet. So she sat in the corner of the cage, knowing she could be there for many more hours if he decided her response was inadequate or displeasing, but risking that for the sake of her pride and the fear of once more falling for him if she got too close.
He snorted softly at her silence. “Quite a rebellion,” he said, flicking the latches open. “What am I going to do with such a rebellious little pet?”
The door swung open wide, but there was no freedom beyond it. Only Alistair, standing there with his large arms crossed over his even larger chest. She could have tried to make a dash for a semblance of freedom, but she knew she would be caught long before she got out of the building. So instead she sat there and scowled at the man who kept her captive.
“Come out here,” he urged her with relatively gentle words. “I don’t think you want me to take you out myself.”
“I’m not doing anything you say,” she replied, wishing her words sounded more brave and less petulant.
That didn’t seem to matter much to Alistair. He reached into the cage, grasped her by the loose links of her collar, and pulled her gently, but very firmly out into the open. Celeste took a gulp of air as the bars receded behind her and a sense of relief and release washed over her. Even though Alistair still had his hand in her collar, simply being out of the cage made her feel more free—though she still did her best to wriggle out of his hand.
“Are you hungry?”
She shot him a dark look. “Are you going to make me eat off the floor like an animal again?”
“You know, the tone you’re using isn’t exactly the one that will earn you any favors from me.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “You’ve taken everything from me; the last thing I have left is a bad attitude. I’ll use it if I want to.”
She saw his cheek dimple as he restrained a laugh. That made her angry. He was laughing at her. He thought her resistance was funny. She growled softly as she thought about the revenge she would take on him when her father came for her. He would regret all of this.
“You’re not hungry,” he said. “Time for a little more training, my pet.”
He led her to the bed, sat down and pulled her over his lap again.
“You are going to beat me again? There doesn’t need to be a reason?”
“You’ve given me plenty of reason to beat you if I wanted to,” Alistair informed her, his large hand settling on her bottom. “But I have something else planned for your bottom.”
She felt her cheeks spread as he parted them with his hands, using his grip as both a means to expose her bottom hole and keep her in place. Celeste whimpered in protest, but he wasn’t listening to that, of course. He was far too busy inspecting the tender little orifice he had explored in the bath.
She heard a drawer open and close, and then felt the tight little bud of her anus wink and wriggle as he smeared lubricating gel against it and began massaging it in. She let out a little whine, but his response was not sympathetic.
“Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this, pet, you’re already wet.”
The damnable man was right. Being taken from her cage, walked to the bed on her hands and knees, taken over his strong, uniformed thighs, having her bottom inspected and now played with, it was all intensely arousing for a reason she did not understand, but her body didn’t care if she understood or not. It behaved as it wanted to behave, and its response was to lubricate her pussy, even though he had not touched it at all. The only stimulation she had there was the stimulation she gave herself as she ground against his thigh with surreptitious little movements she hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Celeste did not know whether to moan or cry, or both as Alistair examined her. He seemed to know her body more intimately than she did and soon she was aroused almost beyond her capacity, her clit tingling so hard against his thigh, even the littlest motion making the walls of her pussy clench with yearning for his cock. But it wasn’t her pussy he was interested in. It was that tighter, smaller, hotter hole that he was now examining, his index finger pressing at the very center of it to make the muscle give way and allow his lubricated digit entrance to her squirming rear.
Grasping at the sheets, Celeste uttered sounds and words she had never thought would emerge from her lips. It wasn’t so much that he was hurting her, as he was stretching her in new and uncomfortable ways. He was inside her in a way she had never thought anyone would be, the ridges of his finger, knuckles slipping deeper and deeper, one after the other until his thick finger was as deep as it could be. He held it between her spread cheeks, then turned his hand slightly and began to pull it out just as slowly as it had entered.
“There’s not a part of you I don’t own, pet,” he told her. The words weren’t necessary; his actions told her everything she needed to know. The message had been received by her body loud and clear. The plundering of her bottom continued in long, slow strokes.
Was he trying to prove a point? Had he somehow sensed the rebellious thoughts she’d had in her cage?
Perhaps, but that was not his primary aim. That became apparent when he pulled something out of his drawer and showed it to her. It was a dark tapered rubber plug with a flared base… and from that base emerged a flowing length of hair that could only be described as a tail. It matched her teal locks perfectly, and she realized that he must have had it made for her.
“This is your tail, pet,” he said firmly, but gently. “This is what you will wear in your bottom.”
She wanted to say no, but what was the point? Verbal resistance would do nothing now. Her bottom hole was already greasy with the lubricant, relaxed by his teasing and fingering into an accepting state. If only her mind could be taken to the same place her body seemed to slip into whenever he touched her.
“Nothing to say?”
She clamped her lips tighter together. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of begging him for clemency.
He made a little tutting sound. A moment later she felt the thick rubber pressing into her tender little hole, settling deeper and wider than she had anticipated. It was a relief when the narrowed neck just before the flared base of the plug allowed her bottom hole to close a little more around the intrusion. The long, soft strands of the tail brushed against the inside of her thighs. It was in. With every motion she made she could feel both the plug being held inside her bottom and the length of the tail brushing against her thighs.
“You see?” He purred the question down at her as he manipulated the tail and plug gently to make the thick rubber swirl inside her anus. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“No!” She growled the lie through gritted teeth.
“Then why are your juices already slick on your tail, pet? Why are you so wet we could use you to irrigate the crops?”
Celeste blushed furiously. The more he took from her, the more her body seemed to respond.
“I don’t care what my body is doing,” she grumbled. “I hate you anyway.”
“Hate,” he repeated in teasing tones. “It doesn’t feel like you hate me.”
She shifted so that her elbow made sharp contact with his midsection. “How about now?” She growled the words at him, then yelped when he slapped her bottom hard enough to leave a red palm print for a few moments.
“Don’t be a brat,” he warned. “Being spanked with that tail in will be an interesting experience for you.”
She looked thoroughly adorable with her tail in her bottom and the nudge barely caused him discomfort, so although she deserved it, Alistair didn’t respond more punitively. It would be better to let her think that he was impervious to her jabs and jibes. She was looking for a sense of control, and that was the last thing he intended on giving her.
Alistair slapped her bottom lightly and eased her down to the floor.
“Stay on your hands and knees,” he said. “So I can see that tail in your bottom as you move.”
She was blushing so furiously he was almost worried for her, but the sight of her nubile body moving with a sinuous grace across the floor, her beautiful bottom displayed to adorable advantage by the tail arching high from her cheeks told him that she was awash with pleasure. Her hips swayed and the tail swayed with them, occasionally allowing a glimpse of her pussy lips and clit, which were still very much glistening with arousal.
He was beginning to think that there was little he could do to his pet that she wouldn’t enjoy. As he looked at her, her pretty face fighting a pout, her curvy body arched for him, presented in feminine perfection, and that tail swaying between her thighs, he felt a rush of pride and affection. His instinct was to praise her. If she had been any other pet, he would have done so profusely. But things were more complicated with this one. Perhaps he should admit some feeling, he mused. If he were to do that it would change things immeasurably. He would be handing her power he did not want her to know she had.
“Yes,” he said, sounding pleased in spite of himself. “I think you’re ready.”
“You’ll see.” He stood up and attached one last piece to her outfit… a silver chain that snapped onto her collar and allowed him to lead her. He gave a little tug, and the order he hoped she was starting to get used to.
Alistair took her out, not just out of the room, but out of the military installation entirely. They drove in a heavily armored vehicle that did not allow for much sightseeing, so when she alighted from it and found herself standing outside a great circular structure with walls several times taller than she, carved and decorated with ecstatic paintings, she had a moment of minor culture shock.
There were grand doors twice as tall as she, standing open with guards beside them. From inside the arena, she could hear voices and music and the unmistakable sounds of revelry. Looking down at her naked, barefoot form, she blushed furiously at the notion of making an appearance looking as she did in that moment.
“Come, pet,” he murmured, taking her by the hand. It was a sweet gesture, but she did not trust sweetness from this man. She pulled her hand out of his and shook her head.
Alistair simply took her leash in hand instead and began to walk toward the doors. It was a matter of following him or leaving her neck behind. Her feet moved in Alistair’s wake toward the doors from which the sounds of a celebration unlike any she had ever attended before were emanating.
She had been looking out over the landscape, but aside from the views of sweeping red plains, she had only seen the stark, military face of Vector Prime before. This tribal but ornate style of carving on the doors and walls made her wonder more about the true nature of the people who lived on the planet—and perhaps of the man who held the leash to her collar. He was dressed for the occasion in black leather pants and a black and silver vest that left his muscular arms free for the admiration of anyone who might care to look at them. Out of his advanced uniform, and wearing the garb of his people, Alistair truly did look like a warlord.
Together they passed through the doors and Celeste found herself looking at what could only be described as an amphitheater filled with people. In the very center of the pit, drummers and other musicians played. People danced around them, while further up the slope and steps, other people sat at long tables and ate.
As her eyes searched the crowds, she noticed that there were many other pets serving their various masters. Everywhere Celeste looked she saw bare rumps, some adorned with tails much like her own, others clad in skimpy shining skirts, most bare and some filled with the manhoods of those who owned them.
It was an orgy, but a rather restrained one. What sex was taking place seemed languid and almost casual. As she watched the proceedings, she saw a tall man slide his cock from one woman who had been perched atop him and into another who was waiting on hands and knees before him, her face cupped in her hands, a slow euphoria passing over her features as he took his pleasure in her.
Celeste slid back and would have run away if she had been given the choice, but of course she hadn’t. The light length of chain attached to her collar wasn’t taut at that precise moment, but it was a perfect symbol of the control she found herself under.
“Don’t be shy, pet,” Alistair said, ushering her further in with a hand on the small of her back.
“Our lord!” The cry went up and the drummers began to drum harder with a beat that made the earth shake. The greeting of the people was a rhythmic one she could feel in the pit of her stomach as every person in the place met Alistair with cheers and more fevered dancing.
Though only Alistair was officially hailed, Celeste was sure all eyes were on her. She felt a hot blush traveling the length of her body, from the tips of her toes to the top of her hairline as she walked through the crowd behind Alistair, more aware than ever of the way the plug moved in her tight bottom with each and every step.
Alistair waved to his people, greeted some of the higher ranked officers who had likewise shed their uniforms for a more primal style of dress, and led Celeste to the chair and table set aside for him upon a dais above the crowd. If it were her father, it would have been a throne; instead Alistair’s chair was large and comfortable. He did not need a piece of furniture to speak to his power. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. Instead of squirming and fighting the moment, Celeste curled up there, feeling sheltered from some of the curious eyes and the explicit activity below by his large bulk as he wrapped his strong arms around her.
Night was falling, and soon the amphitheater was lit by hundreds of flaming torches. The lovemaking, dancing, and feasting went on late into the night. Food was brought to them by serving girls, and Alistair fed it to her from his fingers. She started to appreciate the convenience of being fed in such a way. No need to hold a plate, no need to work with utensils. All she needed to do was wrap her lips around his fingers and take the food into her mouth.
As the night drew on, from time to time she let her eyes close and shut out some of the sights and sounds of the gathering. People came and talked to Alistair and drifted away again. For the most part nobody spoke to Celeste. She was just another pet, not precisely of no consequence, but owned by him and not expected to interact with anyone else. It was quite a relief for Celeste, who was used to having to make polite conversation on evening such as these, and found it quite tedious to do so.
“This is your pet?” A warm woman’s voice made Celeste curious enough to open her eyes. A woman in dark black silk robes was sitting next to Alistair. She was probably in her forties, very beautiful and mature. She smiled at Celeste, and Celeste smiled back.
“She’s not at all certain about the gathering.” Alistair’s chuckle rumbled through his chest.
“Well, I don’t blame her.” The woman smiled reassuringly at Celeste. “This must all seem very strange to you.”
Celeste suddenly realized that this woman was the first person to speak to her besides Alistair since she had become his pet. She found herself strangely shy and unable to find her voice. She managed a small sound that might have been a response in the affirmative.
“This is Penelope,” Alistair said. “She’s one of my chief strategists.”
“You’re a woman,” Celeste said blankly.
“I am,” Penelope agreed with a warm smile. She didn’t seem annoyed by Celeste’s rather dull-witted comment.
It had simply never occurred to Celeste that women could hold positions in Alistair’s regime. The fact that she’d been taken as a pet, and had only ever seen other women kept as pets, had made her think that all women were submissive in Vector Prime. Of course, she had known that was not the case. Pets were those who had been taken in battle. Probably there were more free women than pets. She just hadn’t met any because she had been kept in a cage.
A pang of jealousy struck Celeste suddenly. Or maybe it wasn’t jealousy. Maybe it was embarrassment. This woman was fully clothed and speaking to Alistair as an equal. Celeste had never been allowed such a luxury. She was sitting there with a thick rubber plug in her bottom, and everyone knew it, including Penelope.
She sat and she squirmed on Alistair’s lap as the conversation went on without her. More than ever, she felt her place as his pet and more than ever she felt herself blushing and wriggling, unable to settle into the role he had seen fit to give her.
Alistair did not seem to pick up on her discomfort, or perhaps he did. Either way, it made little difference to how she was held on his lap, displayed for the eyes of the world to see.
“I want you to service me, pet,” Alistair murmured when the woman was gone and they were alone, as it were, though in the middle of a crowd.
“In front of all these people?” Celeste shook her head and buried it in his shoulder. “No. Please. Don’t make me.”
She didn’t know if it was the sincerity in her voice, or if Alistair was softening toward her, but he did not immediately press the point as he usually would. It was the first time he had ever let her say no to him, and she was glad for it. The other pets seemed happy in their work, but she could never have done what he wanted her to do with the nerves and shame rolling in her stomach.
“Look at me, pet,” he said, gently tipping her head up toward him, one finger under her chin.
Celeste met his simultaneously bright and dark gaze.
“In time, you’ll learn that serving me, being seen to serve me is noble,” Alistair said, rubbing his hand over her back. “You’ll be proud to take me, even if you do it in front of the entire universe.”
Celeste could not imagine being proud to do what some of the others were doing. She’d had too much shame, too much pride, too much expectation injected into her over the years. If she were to be seen willingly submitting to the man her father had declared a warlord, the news would break across every planet in the system within days, if not hours. Millions of people would talk about her, laugh about her, mock her, of that she was certain. Her father was not well loved and she had been the topic of much malicious gossip over the years. People were almost certainly already talking… the thought made her want to hide away forever. She shook her head wordlessly, unable to put easy words to her thoughts and fears.
“Pet,” Alistair said, catching her dilemma without the need for her to voice it. “You are mine. You need only worry what I think of you.”
As he spoke, his hand crept down between her legs and cupped her pussy. She let out a little gasp and blushed bright red as he began to masturbate her with slow rubbing strokes that made it quite obvious that she was starting to get wet. After a few minutes of massaging her softly, he curled one finger up and pressed it inside her, keeping up the rubbing motion. She was ready for him, and they both knew it.
“I’m going to fuck you, pet,” he murmured.
She let out a little whimper. He was stoking an arousal in her that made her want him, but the shame of being so sexual in front of so many people, of having them see her be a wanton little slut desperate for her master’s cock… it all felt like too much.
Celeste squirmed around on his lap so that she was facing him. He let her move into the new position, which she was grateful for as it meant she didn’t have to see anyone looking at her. Beneath her, Alistair unleashed his cock from his pants and she felt the hard ridge of his bare flesh pressing against her pussy.
There was no fanfare about their public coupling. He slid his cock into her wet slit in one long smooth motion. She buried her head in his neck as he slowly fucked her, his hands on her bottom lifting her up and down along the hard length of his erection.
Moaning softly, Celeste kept her eyes closed, focusing on the feeling of having him inside her. Even with her eyes closed, she could still hear the gathering going on all around them. There were people just a few feet away talking, laughing, making love.
Though she was still feeling very shy, there could be no doubt that the presence of others heightened the intensity of the act and soon her body responded passionately, her hips starting to gyrate against him and rise and fall with a faster tempo. Alistair’s hands clamped her ass and pulled her down on his cock every time she lifted up. On every down stroke, her clit would graze against the fly of his pants, the slightly rough texture pleasuring the greedy little nub. Her breath came harder and faster, and for a brief, beautiful moment the rest of the world slid away entirely and it was only the two of them connected by flesh, juices mingling as she writhed on his thick pole, impaled on his flesh.
She was going to come. She was going to come in front of everybody. Her pussy was gripping Alistair’s cock for dear life as he ran his fingers through her hair, pulled her head back and looked deep into her eyes, his dark and blue gaze keeping her focused on him as he held her down against his cock and pounded up against her.
“Take my cum, pet,” he growled, kissing her deeply. She couldn’t move. She didn’t have a choice but to take his seed. He moaned into her mouth, his desire hot and tangible as his cock shot load after load of his cum inside her. She had not yet come, but that didn’t matter. She was his pet and he was using her wet pussy the way it was meant to be used.
He pulled out entirely before she could come too, turned her around on his lap and held her close, his palm gently rubbing his hot cum into her lower lips. She was so aroused she could not help the writhing motions she was making as he held her on display.
“Beautiful,” a passerby commented. “She’s lovely.”
Celeste blushed profusely as people began to pay more attention to her. It was as if her frustrated desire, perched on the verge of climax, was drawing people to them. Alistair slid his fingers to the very top of her pussy and pressed down just above her clit, drawing the skin up so that the little bud of her clit was exposed, and her creamy cum-filled slit was also very visible to anyone who passed by. She let out a little whine of complaint, but he kept her there, squirming on the edge of orgasm.
“What a pretty pussy,” a man of presumably high rank, judging by the way he was followed by two crawling pets, said. “You have chosen well, General.”
“Go jump in a lava lake,” Celeste snapped, embarrassed.
“That was rude, pet, apologize,” Alistair growled in her ear.
“No,” she scowled, both at Alistair and the man with the pets. “I don’t owe anyone an apology.”
“High spirited though,” the man chuckled.
“Oh, very,” Alistair agreed. His hand lifted from her mound and returned with a sharp slap right across her well fucked pussy lips.
Celeste let out a cry of complaint, but Alistair was not pleased with her, and her punishment was far from over. His palm slapped her pussy over and over again as she sat with her legs splayed on either side of his thighs, her wet, reddening sex visible to everyone as she wriggled and whimpered and gasped.
“Apologize,” Alistair commanded gruffly. “Now, or I promise you, what has happened to you thus far will be nothing compared to what does happen.”
His words were vague, but her sore pussy was testament to the fact that it was a credible threat. She could feel his hand hovering over her lower lips, ready to deliver another stinging slap to her creamy cunt.
“Sorry,” she whimpered, not feeling sorry at all, but eager to avoid further consequences.
The man, whoever he was, accepted her apology graciously and moved on after wishing Alistair a good night.
“Good girl,” Alistair said, patting her stinging lips lightly. “I think it’s time I took you home.”
Celeste could not have agreed more.
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