When She Dances

She's a slave. It's my right.

But…I don't want to abuse her. I want her to want me to touch her, as keffing stupid as that sounds. I don't know what to do with her when she's uncertain and scared. When she looked at me with confidence, though, it was like she'd unlocked something inside me.

I think about how she knelt in front of me and put the plas-film on my cock with expert fingers. I think about her comment earlier about taking me in her mouth. I groan again, pumping myself wildly, because now my imagination is going wild.

Kef me, I'm going to be in this shower for days if I don't stop thinking about sex.

It's just that…I've wanted that female for so long. I felt like a fool buying her, worried I made a mistake. But then she danced and gave me that look and…for a moment, I forgot about all the metal covering me up one side and down the other.

This metal monster made a female come. My hand clenches on the tile and I spurt my release all over the wall, gritting my teeth at the strain of it. That didn't feel nearly as good as coming inside her. I'm probably keffing ruined for masturbating. Great. Another thing ruined, all because I needed a pretty little slave.

Keffing fool that I am.

I rinse my seed off of the tile and then step under the water again, trying to clear my mind. I promised her I'd take her to the Risda system when I got her out of mine. Something tells me that's not going to happen right away. I hope she's prepared to wait, because I thought my need would be slaked after taking her once or twice. Well, I've claimed her once, and now it just feels as if the fires have been stoked.

I'm definitely going to claim her again, I decide. My cock's already stirring once more, as if it's just as greedy as I am. I'll give her a few minutes to catch her breath, and then I'm going to mount her again. Even now, just thinking about her getting on all fours to take me again makes my sac tighten, seed filling it.

I'm a mess. The only thing I can do is work her—and this need—out of my system, though.

I dry off and wrap a towel around my hips. By the time I emerge from the lavatory, my pulse is pounding with the need to touch her again. I think about that button between her thighs. That's a human feature, I think. Mesakkah females don't have that. They—

I pause, because the bed is empty.

"Female?" I call out, heart tripping. Surely she did not run away?

"Mmm?" On the far side of the bed, I hear a mumble. I walk over there and sure enough, the female is curled up on the floor next to the bed. She looks sleepy, her eyes heavy, but as she sits up, her breasts sway and I want to touch her again.

"Why are you on the floor?" My voice sounds harsher, more dismissive than I want it to.

She shrugs, covering her breasts as if hiding herself. "I wasn't sure where you wanted me. Didn't seem right to presume I could sleep on the bed."

"You can sleep on the bed," I point out. I'm not a monster…at least not in that regard. I pause, then add, "I want to take you again."

The female gets to her feet, rubbing her eyes. "Well, I am your slave, remember?"

That is not the enthusiasm I had hoped for. Did I not just pleasure her? Isn't she thankful for that? I frown in her direction. "You have to want it, too."

Her mouth quirks. She pushes her hair back from her face, and it falls in a tangle around her shoulders. "Are you worried I'll tell you no? We agreed I'd be in your bed in exchange for passage to Risda."

I hesitate. I do not want to think about Risda right now. "I don't want to be…greedy. It felt better when you liked it," I admit. "And I liked the sounds you made."

"You know what's a real turn on?" she asks, sauntering toward me in a way that makes my cock stir eagerly.

"What?"

"Using my name. It makes me feel human."

Her words confuse me. "You are always human. Do you want to feel otherwise?"

The female—Esta? Nara?—pokes me in the stomach. "It's a figure of speech. It makes me feel like I'm a person, not just some vessel for you to fuck." She looks up at me. "I know you don't care about my name, but it's important to me. If you care about how I feel, you'll use it instead of just calling me 'female' like Abuar used to."

Comparing me to Abuar is a low blow, and I narrow my eyes at her. Clever female, she knows exactly what she's doing when she says that to me. "Balta," I guess. "That is your name?" It was something soft and pretty.