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Valora Vixen Mini One: Serving Bosk the Beast
🕑 Added 2019-07-28 15:31:49 +0000 UTCYou voted so you get your wish! Valora is forced to pleasure her disgusting master on the bridge of his ship! Let me know what you think in the comments!
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The nanobath healed my bruises and scrapes, returning my skin to supple perfection. In fact, I think the nanobots went a step further, scrubbing away a few pimples, gobbling up my body hair, and even smoothing away a scar from having my arm caught in the Bailer-900 back at Johan’s Rest. My only remaining flaws were my farmer’s tan and the smattering of freckles on my face.
The cooing slave girls shampooed my hair like I was their pet grotter at a colony fair and more than a few of them put their hands, flippers, and tentacles in very inappropriate places. They dressed me in a costume that barely qualified as lingerie. It was made from this translucent gelatinous pink substance that stuck to my plush breasts, molded to my mound, and crept between my buttocks like I had sat down on a farglebutter and jelly sandwich. It squirmed against me when I moved around. I felt naked and violated at the same time.
I knew my situation was about to get a lot worse when one of the pig like green guards grabbed me, fondling just about every part of my body in the process, and shoved me into the pleasure dome of Nimerius Bosk. I only knew the alien’s name because I’d heard it repeated several times when I’d been auctioned off by the krengg raiders that had attacked Johan’s Rest and captured me along with a few other farm girls.
I staggered into huge, smoky room, my slender neck banded with the weight of my submission collar. There were all sorts of dangerous-looking aliens and humans laughing and drinking. Gabbard music blared from a xylosynth and two blue-skinned dancing girls writhed in metal cages overhead.
Bosk sat atop a raised platform with several shapely slave girls luxuriating at his feet. He was a mottled green basilix of the wart-skinned, toadlike variety, with a wide head, huge mouth, baleful golden eyes, and an enormous white belly that burst from his overtaxed leather vest. He wore combat trousers that had ripped along the sides and clung to his flabby legs in red ribbons. His fingers were long and fat. One hand idly stroked the head of a dull-eyed slave girl. The other toyed with a small black box with buttons that glowed red and green.
“Closer,” he croaked, lifting his hand from the slave girl and beckoning me towards his throne. “Let me see what I’ve bought.”
I guess I took too long, because Bosk jabbed a button on the box in his hand and it felt like someone lashed me between my shoulders with a burning whip. I cried out, stumbling forward in a way that made my nearly naked body jiggle and bounce. I could hear the aliens around me laughing and jabbering. I couldn’t understand their languages, but I knew they were talking about my body.
I collapsed to my knees in front of Bosk’s throne. He jabbed a button again and I was struck by another searing lash from the submission collar. It was as bad as hit iron scorching my flesh and I howled and arched against the agony of the nerve induction.
“Stand properly,” commanded Bosk. “Show me your body, human.”
I staggered to my feet, my body still jerking with aftershocks of the imaginary whip still crackling in my nerve endings. I forced myself to look up into Bosk’s hateful golden eyes. His huge mouth curled and he ran the fat, pink wedge of his tongue over his lipless smile.
“Turn around,” he commanded and stroked the buttons of the box with menace.
I turned for him, showing him my shapely hips and plush rear, my crack stuffed with the pink jelly that squirmed against my pussy and anus like it was alive. Maybe it was.
“Yes, yes,” laughed Bosk. “Such fat tits! Such wide hips! Come closer to me!”
Reluctantly, I stepped onto the raised platform and approached the foul-smelling basilisk on his throne. He leaned forward, his bulk shifting as he reached out to fondle my breasts. He squeezed my mounds roughly, pinching my nipples through the translucent jelly. I cried out.
“Yes! A milker! I could sell you to the dairies of the Spulwek after I’ve had my fun! Your hefty tits could make me a fortune!” He croaked with pleasure, sliding his long fingers up to my face and forcing my mouth open. He pushed a finger between my lips, over my tongue, and straight down my throat. I gagged and nearly vomited. “Well, we can work on that. You humans do not come trained, do you?”
“Go to hell, you bloated bog lizard,” I said, wiping drool from my chin.
My insolence shocked the room full of jabbering aliens to silence. Bosk grimaced, his reptilian brow furrowing with anger. He jabbed the control panel several times and my body exploded with pain. Lashes of agony crackled down my back, jolted my legs, hot needles stabbed between my toes, and ice-cold vices tightened on my nipples. I pitched forward, howling in agony as the aliens laughed. I crashed to my knees and slumped against Bosk’s throne.
The pain ebbed as I slumped against the fetid bulk of Bosk’s lap. Tremor quivered down my back and thighs. I lifted my head, my face prickling with sweat, and looked up at the grotesque crime boss.
“You can’t survive much more,” he said. “But you can make it up to me.”
He shoved a hand under my body and reached for the bulge of trousers. He pulled aside a flap and exposed a glistening pink mass thrusting through a slit in his warty underbelly. A wave of foul stench hit my nostrils and I almost gagged. I looked up at the brute, my eyes watering, and he turned a knob on the device in his hand.
“Please your master, slave,” he croaked.
A dull buzz vibrated through my body and into my brain. It was like I was suddenly half asleep, my body becoming warm like I’d stolen some more of my father’s wheat beer. I shuddered at thought of my father, only his boots and a pool of blood visible on the porch as the krengg stormed into our house. My mother had shoved me into a closet to hide me, but that had only delayed the inevitable.
Johan’s Rest was so far away. I was on my knees on the bridge of Nimerius Bosk’s starship. One wrong move and he would execute me with the push of a button. I knew what I had to do, but it didn’t mean I gave in to him.
As I reached for his slimy cock, I was already plotting the revenge I would take against the disgusting crime boss.
“Yesssss,” hissed Bosk as my fingers wrapped around his pink cock. “If you are a good slave girl, perhaps I will breed you tonight.”
“Oh, master, I want to pleasure you,” I cooed, letting my words come from the buzzing lust I felt throughout my body.
“Then prove yourself, slave,” he croaked, shifting his bloated body in his throne and leaning back to watch me.
His cock stiffens from his lap, pale pink and as long as my forearm. The head is flattened, with a bumpy rim along the ridge of his glans. The slit at the tip is quite large. It looks as if I could fit my pinkie finger inside. His cock has a strange spongy texture and seems to be oozing slime from all over it, allowing my hands to glide up and down his shaft. At first, Bosk does not seem to have bollocks, but then I notice a bulge just inside his abdomen that is probably where he is storing his filthy seed. The scent of his cock is unwholesome and strangely vegetal, like leaves left to rot in a pond.
“Mmmmm,” grumbles Bosk. “Hands are good. Mouth is better.”
He flops a big hand on the back of my head and pushes me down towards his cock. Heat blooms between my thighs, an ache that I can only describe as desire, but I resent myself for feeling it. I party my lips and run my tongue around the spongy head of Bosk’s fucktool. I taste his foul, salty slime as I lick the bumpy ridge of his cockhead and slide my tongue over his oozing slit. Without being prompted, I part my lips wide and force his cock into my mouth. I moan around him, as much in despair as desire, as I begin to suck.
“Ohhhh, she is good,” he croaks to the aliens gathered in the room. “This one loves to suck.”
His hand guides me as I begin to slurp and bob on Bosk’s cock. Kneeling between his warty legs, sucking on his foul maleness, I feel almost complete despair. Is this my future? Is this all I will ever know until Bosk tires of me and sells me to the Spulwek? No, I tell myself even as I suckle the foul cock, I will find a way to escape. And I will make Bosk pay for degrading me.
“Yes,” he hisses, tangling his fat fingers in my hair.
I took solace in my deeper resolve as I let my body succumb to the buzzing I felt throughout my flesh. The gelatinous goo on my breasts and covering my mound seemed to warm up and react to my arousal. It liquified and slid down from my breasts and dripped between my legs. The aliens laughed at this and pointed as my naked flesh was revealed. The goo pooled between my legs, perhaps waiting to be reapplied.
“Suck,” groaned Bosk, his head rolling from side to side and his fat tongue drooping from his mouth. “Yes. Suck my cock. Make my seed boil.”
“Mmmmmmm!” I moaned around him, my spit dripping down his shaft as I took him to the back of my throat with each bob of my head. I had never pleasured a boy like this before. I was mad with lust, slurping and bobbing and stroking him all at once. I could feel him shuddering beneath me, his bollocks finally becoming visible as four egg-sized fleshy lumps sliding out at the root of his cock.
With a croak loud enough to hurt my ears, Bosk thrust forward, shoving my head down and gagging me on his huge cock. He did not care that he was choking me. His cock jerked and throbbed and his cum exploded into my throat. It overflowed into my mouth no matter how quickly I swallowed, salty and foul, white cum spilling down his shaft and dribbling from my nose as it pulsed out again and again. I sucked him despite my gagging, coaxing out every spurt. His cock remained hard even as he lifted me up with his fingers tangled in my hair. I gazed at him with my bleary, lust-drunk eyes, cum and spit spilling down my chin and dripping onto my bare breasts.
“Good at sucking,” he declared. “Now I will mate you. Fill you with my clutch.”
The threat of being impregnated by this disgusting brute woke me from my trance.
“Oh, master,” I moaned, rubbing his cock against my lips. “Let me pleasure you more.”
“It is time to mate,” he croaked.
“But, master,” I said, rising to let my soft breasts drag against his cock. “You have not felt the pleasure of my breasts yet.”
I squeezed him in my plush mounds, cradling his slimy cock in the valley between my breasts. I held my tits in my hands and squeezed them together, sliding up his slippery cock until his tip disappeared in my cleavage. His eyes widened and he croaked as I rode back down his shaft until my tits mashed against his warty lower abdomen. I repeated this again, only the second time I let my tongue drag down his shaft too, tasting his foul cum, but moaning like I loved the flavor.
“Yes, this is the pleasure pillows technique,” he croaked with enjoyment as I continued to wank him with my plump breasts. “Spulwek slavers teach their slave girls this technique. They give human slaves the soft flesh. But you were born with these pillows.”
“Oh, yes, they’re all mine,” I cooed, riding faster as my tits made lewd sounds as I stroked them up and down his filthy cock. “Don’t they feel nice and warm? Mmmmm? Doesn’t my tongue feel nice licking you as I stroke you with my, um, pillows?”
“Yes, yes,” croaked Bosk. “Faster. Ohhhhh. This is good.”
He squirmed on his throne as I rode my body against his cock. His huge maleness seemed to swell even more and his bollocks once more bulged from his root. I licked at his salty cock and slid my mashed breasts around him. He was so slimy that I moved easily against his cock. He vibrated and croaked loudly, thrusting his fat hips and pumping his cock between my mounds. For a seeming eternity, the only sounds in the room were his croaking, my panting, and the slimy slurping of my tits wanking his frothy cock. Even the music had stopped. The dancing girls were staring.
“YESSSSS!” Bosk croaked with sudden pleasure, his body heaving atop his throne as he fucked between my breasts. A massive geyser of his cum spurted into the air, white and thick, arcing up and falling back down to shower my head, my face, and splatter my breasts. His huge gouts of cum splashed all over my body until I was dripping with his spunk. He collapsed, wheezing, into his throne. Thankfully, his cock began to wilt and shrink back towards the slit in his lower abdomen. Bosk looked at me lazily and pressed a button the controller.
Pleasure shot through me. It was like an orgasm, but it jolted violently into my body and my brain. I toppled over onto the floor, cooing and writhing, my eyes rolling back in my head and my tongue hanging out of my open mouth as I was forced to cum by the submission collar. I was still jerking with aftershocks of pleasure as Bosk’s porcine guards dragged me from the bridge of his ship. As I passed out or range of his controller, the pleasure faded away.
My muscles ached, my body was exhausted, but my mind had a renewed clarity of purpose: I had to escape.
Comments
Fantasy Fan
I like the way you did the slave collar and how it clouds her thoughts
