Galactic Slut Ch. 06

Clearly she liked what I was doing, as she started humping my face like it was a cock. I tried to keep my tongue out, but it was forced either back into my mouth or against my cheek every time she came down. I was getting the impression, however, that something was missing. I could hear a frustrated edge to her cries of pleasure. After 20 minutes of her increasing arousal with no sign of climax, my face was covered in fluid and she was panting madly. I was frustrated too, being unable bring my hands into play. In desperation, the next time she dropped herself down, I bit into her now protruding pussy flesh.

That seemed to be what she needed. She started shuddering and her juices flowed like a faucet. She ground herself against me harder and I felt something start to poke its way out and against my teeth. There was a convulsion in her cunt and her lips were pulled from my teeth (accompanied by a very loud cry on her part). The thing in her cunt pushed into my mouth and onto my tongue. It had a hollow center and drew my tongue in, squeezing it with a rhythmic action. It felt like my tongue was being milked.

This went on for several minutes. I could barely breathe and could feel Crystal compensating for the minimal air I was getting. When my tongue was released, Hushre fell back with her head between my knees. She seemed to be gasping and I could feel still more fluid dripping onto my breasts. I know she said we were going to engage in energetic sex, but I wasn't feeling all that strained. She, however, seemed to be exhausted. It took over five minutes before she moved again to get off me. When she did, Hushre simply released me, letting me know we were finished.

This wasn't the first time I'd been left unsatisfied by one of these sexual encounters. When one uses sex as a commodity, many beings view your pleasure as secondary; if you cum, then you cum, but no big deal. Few, however, are as callous as the Captain was. She made no attempt to give me pleasure in any way. She'd fucked my face and now we were done. I walked out, not bothering to clean up, and returned to our small cabin. Brusjin looked up when I entered. There must have been a look on my face.

"Susan, do you need...?"

"God, Brusjin, make love to me."

He did just that, taking me into his arms and kissing me deeply; ignoring the presence of someone else's fluids on my face and breasts. His hands caressed my back and ass while I just tried to pull him closer to me. The emptiness of my encounter with Captain Hushre left me needy. Brusjin pulled me to our bed and continued to caress me with soft touches and kisses. Soon, my emotions had settled and my arousal was growing. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my belly. His balls rubbed against my pussy, soaking themselves in my now freely flowing lube.

With a swift movement, his cock thrust into my cunt, causing me to gasp in pleasure. His thrusts were slow and measured, oh so slowly building my pleasure. Brusjin's hands gripped me tightly so I couldn't thrust against him faster than he was fucking me. I sank into a pre-orgasmic ocean, soaking up every iota of sensation my husband and lover had for me. When my first orgasm hit me, his mouth captured my screams of pleasure and he kept thrusting into me.

I was just starting to feel that pain from an overly sensitive clit when it faded a little; becoming intense pleasure instead. My thoughts left me and I merely absorbed what Brusjin had for me. My orgasm kept on going, yet I wasn't passing out. I couldn't understand what was going on (I later learned that Crystal kept me cumming until Brusjin did). More and more waves of ecstasy rolled over me and I was whimpering with a need I couldn't comprehend.

When I felt Brusjin's cum pouring into my cunt, I could also feel my eyes roll and my consciousness slowly ebb. I came to only a few minutes later. I didn't try to put my feelings of love and closeness into words; I simply let my smile and eyes do the talking for me. Brusjin was giving me more soft kisses, expressing his own feelings without words too.

We didn't see the Captain for the rest of the journey. The cargo officer let us know when the shuttle was ready to descend to the planet's surface. We gathered our meager belongings and strapped into three jump seats in the cargo area. The shuttle pilot was skilled and we landed without a noticeable jolt.

Being a cargo ship, offloading the cargo was first priority. We waited for almost an hour before we could exit the shuttle ourselves. As we made our way to the building that served as the star port for the planet, we passed pallets that were waiting for on loading. They seemed to be refrigerated; possibly some kind of foodstuff.

Inside, we caught our first sight of a Xylonian. Vaguely humanoid, he had two legs and two arms. Like every other amphibious species, his toes and fingers were webbed for ease of swimming. His gills were in what we would call armpits. I could make out the nictating membranes in his eyes and on his nose. His skin was a greenish blue and moist; though I wasn't able to tell if it was from recent immersion or secretions.

"Good day, kind sir. What can I help you with?"

"My wife and I are doing some research on your planet's social customs. We're hoping our report will help your planet's application for Federation Protectorate status."

"I see. Our society is very open, so I don't think that'll be a problem. Our cities are all below the surface. Are you able to live in a water environment?"

"Yes, we've brought breathing devices with us. Your command of English is very good. May I ask where you learned it?"

"Knowledge of Federation standard has been required ever since we first were contacted by your races. The council employs several humans as language teachers."

"That's very wise of your council," I commended. I was, however, taken aback by the look of total shock on his face. It was as if he truly didn't expect me to speak at all. They must require their slaves (females) to be silent at all times. This planet so needed to be brought into the Federation.

"If you could show us how to get to the nearest city, that'd be a big help."

"Actually, there's a transport leaving with the recent cargo shortly. You're free to ride with the cargo if you wish."

"You're very kind. Where's the transport?"

"Follow the path to the right; you can't miss it. Would you like to mark your wife before you dive? It's strongly recommended."

"What do you mean, mark? She's my wife, not my slave."

The Xylonian's face showed a bit of puzzlement at Brusjin's comment. There was something going on here that we didn't understand. I kept quiet in case a female talking was disturbing his prejudices. The last thing we needed was a bad first impression. One of the secrets to the research we do is having the local's on our side and convincing them that we're on they're side.

"That's your choice of course. Some people find the marks unsightly. Just be sure to have your documents handy."

As we walked to the transport, we tried to sort out what had happened.

"Brusjin, did you notice his reaction when I spoke? He seemed shocked that I'd dare say even a single word."

"Yes I did. It seemed more than that, though. It looked like surprise that youcouldspeak. Don't they even teach their females to speak properly?"

"God, Brusjin! Are you telling me they may segregate females so early that they don't even develop proper speech? That's horrible!"

"I agree, but remember, we can't let our disgust at their social customs get in way of gaining them the membership that will result in their changes."

From the very first job we'd done together, when I was his slave, Brusjin had emphasized that there are no wrong cultures to us, simply different ones. Once I was free again, he explained that while he didn't necessarily agree with that idea (in fact, it was assininely stupid), we had to act as if it were true. Any society that devalued one person or class of persons was inherently inferior, but telling them that wasn't the way to bring them out of their inferiority.

While we watched the transport loaded, the three of us started attaching the mechanical gills to our faces. The gills were more than simply a device for extracting oxygen from the water. They also injected monitored doses of Gretilan. Gretilan allowed our bodies to compensate for the pressures we'd be feeling as we descended into the depths. I wasn't sure how it worked, but it has been used for deep sea exploration on many planets. According to reports, the drug, in concert with the gills, has allowed Earth to explore the Marianas Trench without the use of high pressure submersibles.

Soon both we and the transport were ready. The craft looked very much like a large boat. The windshield extended over much more of the front of the craft than I was used to seeing, but it was intended to travel under the surface as well. And that's precisely what we did. We weren't out more than fifty meters before the ship began to descend into the water. The windscreen extended even more, covering the entire top of the ship, but leaving the sides open. I'd never used the gills before and it was with some trepidation that I took my first breath underwater. Of course, it worked as advertised and I simply took in air. The bubbles I expected didn't appear; I assumed the device forced them back into the water.

What the gills couldn't do was give us the same vision as the Xylonians. Light doesn't penetrate very deep into water. Within half an hour, I couldn't see outside the craft. Inside, my vision was short and murky. The only light I could see was from the panels at the front of the ship. So it was quite a surprise when the vast field of light appeared below us. As we closed the distance, it became clear that we were looking at a Xylonian city. Structures rose out of the ocean floor, lit up like an immobile fireworks display.

We landed next to what could only be called a warehouse (have you noticed that every race builds warehouses the same). The crew of the ship started to unload cargo pallets. One, as much to get us out of the way as anything else, pointed us towards a nearby hotel. I knew that Crystal would start assimilating their written language right away, ending that limitation to our interactions. Our headset translators would handle the spoken language issues.

We found it easier to swim than to walk in this city. In fact, there wasn't anything remotely resembling pavement here. I suppose that makes sense for an aquatic species. We hadn't quite made it to the entrance of the hotel when three Xylonians swam up to us. There's something about ruffians that seems to cross species barriers.

"Stranger, I challenge your right to your unmarked slave," the first one said.

"Susan isn't my slave, she's my wife," Brusjin replied.

I saw Grankt reach back for his Scather. The three Xylonians had that confused look on their faces, just like then one on the surface. I lost track of his reply when Crystal contacted me.

[TRANSLATION ANOMALY. WIFE AND SLAVE TRANSLATED IDENTICAL.]

Shit! Xylon knew no difference between a wife and a slave. No wonder the man on the surface suggested I be marked. Brusjin certainly didn't have ownership papers for me. When I looked at the tableau before me, Grankt was standing in front of both of us with his Scather drawn and the three ruffians were spreading out with long, slim knives of some sort. Grankt, for all his strength, was struggling with the resistance of the water. We were in big trouble and the divide between our culture and theirs was the source.

Thank you Dani for another fine editing job. Please let me know what you think, good or bad.