Sh’Lyra
(Revision: 2)
by Sharon Best
A dark-windowed cruise bus turned off the little used paved highway onto a rutted dirt side road, the recent cloudburst wetting the dirt just enough to keep the dust down as it sped along. The ride suddenly grew rougher than it had been on the pavement, the bus bouncing heavily every few seconds over one of an endless series of bumps in the road.
From the outside, the vehicle looked like any other cruise bus, but inside it was something else entirely. In a crowded seat near the back, a young blonde girl, perhaps 19 years old, awoke, the bouncing movement of the bus overcoming the drugged stupor that she had been sleeping off. Struggling to move, she found she could not, her body naked, gagged, and bound to her seat. Around her were many others in the same plight. The ones she could actually see were young women, mostly blonde, all athletic, most of them very pretty like herself. Leaning forward, she felt a sudden movement between her legs, and was horrified to feel something inside of her! It felt exactly like a dildo of some sort! She moaned and struggled, but her hands were tied too tightly to get free.
Bending down as she raised her thighs a bit, she was barely able to see a device sticking out of her, apparently restrained by a chain belt around her narrow waist. Gasping in horror, she struggled harder for a moment. Suddenly, a silent explosion occured between her normally strong legs, an explosion of pleasure! The sensation was overpowering, the white-hot heat of uncontrolled arousal overcoming her horror, her body collapsing to the side before slumping over in her seat, completely helpless to control her own body’s reactions! It was nearly fifteen minutes before she could truly think again, her body stiffening and collapsing three times as the most powerful orgasm’s of her young life swept through her.
Finally able to think again, the sound of her panting breath loud in her ears, her mouth and throat so dry she could not swallow, she tried to remember how she had gotten here. Prior to today, she had always taken pride in her athletic strength and her stunning good looks and remarkable height. Despite being female, she had usually found that she was a physical match for any man. Yet today, she knew that her dramatic physical talents had served only to attract her captors’ attention. Crying out in frustration, she felt an almost overpowering need growing within her once again, the feeling so familiar yet unfamiliar, the sensation growing stronger and stronger. Staring upward through her tousled hair, she saw a very powerfully-built man approached her.
Charn casually reached down between the newest girl’s legs and turned the intensity up on the small Orgone generator rod that he had placed inside her. Standing over her, he watched her nipples grow firmer, and her body succumbing to the first of what would be many orgasms. Orgone wasn’t very effective on Terran’s, the doses ridiculously high by Arion standards, but it still did the job if he turned the generator up high enough. Finally satisfied with her reactions, convinced she had lost all control of her body again, he returned to the seat next to his partner, Bequet.
This was supposed to be their last trip, Bequet and he both slated to go on R&R themselves, slated to a reward that involved sampling the very women and men whom they had captured. Their load today was a collection of young models from LA (nearly two dozen young women and a few young men), as well as some exotic Terran foods that they had stopped to pick up in Las Vegas, where they had captured the tall blonde he had just ‘adjusted’.
They were both excited and worried. If all went well, they would travel up in the same shuttle as the new slaves, finally escaping this mudball of a planet. Unfortunately, however, they were still several slaves under their quota, and threatening words still echoed in their minds from the last time they had come up short or had provided ordinary looking Terrans. Sh’Lyra’s demand was that only the most attractive and fittest Terrans were to be captured.
They knew the punishment for being under quota could range from instant death to being forced to remain on Earth, working undercover, for another six month stint. Sh'Lyra was unpredictable, her mood varying from play to homicidal, depending on the moment. Settling into his seat, Charn worred about the last possibility more than anything else. Not that the prospect of instant death didn't scare him, like any being, he wanted to live. But the massive nuclear explosion that had recently occurred just to the north was evidence that the master plan was finally working. They had been here for four work cycles, two long years, and now it should be time to go home.
In any case, they didn’t have much trust in the High Command to get them off the planet in time if the Terrans were finally manipulated into starting a nuclear war. While a Prime might survive the holocaust that would follow, a couple of abandoned Betas surely would not. And slowly dying in the nuclear hell following such a war would be far worse than any punishment Sh’Lyra might mete out to them!
Besides his personal desire to get off this ugly planet and to avoid the horrors that were sure to come, Charn had grown to truly hate Bequet. The bitch was intentionally getting under his skin every time she could! But he was a professional and he rarely allowed his real feelings to show. Bequet would get no satisfaction from him when she decided to get bitchy!
He thought again of the upcoming rendezvous, desperately hoping Sh’Lyra would not be there to oversee the loading of the new slaves. Just the thought of Sh’Lyra made him so nervous that he had to get up and pace the aisleway, returning to the captives to check their restraints once again.
Bequet watched her partner in the rear view mirror, noticing that Charn wasn’t fondling any of the girls like he normally would. She always enjoyed that: it made her very hot to see him touching them, watching him molest a slave girl while she begged for it, her will helpless under the Orgone influence.
The dirt road was now arrow straight and, with the exception of a few dips and small mounds, was very boring. Taking her eyes off the track and the ugly desert landscape, she smiled at Charn when he returned to sit down next to her.
“I’ve never seen you so nervous. Are you really that afraid of her?”
“Of course I am,” Charn grunted impatiently, “and if you had any sense, you would be too. She’s killed more agents than she’s ever rewarded, and we aren’t exactly going to make her happy by being under quota.”
“Oh, she doesn’t worry me, we women stick together. You should be worried though, you’re supposed to be in charge of this expedition. I’m sure Sh’Lyra will blame you for any shortage.”
Charn started to answer her taunt just as the bus topped a rise in the road and headed down a deep dip on the other side. He suddenly saw something in the road ahead - a horse and a man on foot. Bequet was not even looking ahead of her!
“Bequet, watch out!” he shouted, knowing it was already too late to avoid hitting the horse ambling down the middle of the road. There was a crashing thud before she could even touch the brake, the two of them smashed against the windshield of the bus. Charn heard multiple loud thuds as the bus was thrown upward briefly, suddenly slamming back onto the ground with a tremendous BANG! Bouncing wildly, the bus skidded sideways for several dozen yards before finally stopping, its back end tilted slightly upward.
“SHIT! Where did they come from?” Bequet shouted, her voice sounding a little scared as she killed the engine.
“I don’t know,” Charn shouted back, “they were in the dip and I don’t think they saw us until too late. Come on! We have to make sure nobody survived!”
The door hissed open as they scrambed out of the bus, Charn coughing and waving his hand in front of his face in a vain effort to see through the thick cloud of red dust that swirling thickly in the air. He wished the earlier isolated cloudburst had wet down this area, too.
Walking quickly to the back of the bus, he saw that the rear wheels were resting on top of a horse. He also saw something else--the most beautiful pair of bare legs he had ever seen, clearly female, those legs spread out on either side of one tire, almost as if the rear wheels of the bus were making love to her!
“What a pity,” he muttered under his breath, seeing the obviously dead girl straddling the wheels, the full weight of that corner of the bus resting on her lower abdomen. Bending down, he could barely see where her golden bush was pressed against the tire, her upper torso twisted up into the wheel well.
Cursing, he grabbed her hips and pulled, fully expecting to feel her broken bones grating against each other, expecting her body to tear apart under the strength his arms - he was an Arion Beta after all, the strength of four strong Terran men in his arms. Instead, he was surprised at the firm taut feel of her body as he tried to pull her legs apart, his face telegraphing his feelings to Bequet as she walked over to watch him. He had never felt a Terran woman’s body resist his strength like this before!
“Stop fondling the dead you pervert,” she said with a snear, “and pull the remains out of there. I’ll check on the man she was with.”
Charn just grunted his reply, pissed that she could read him so well. He pulled, and then pulled again, surprised by how tightly wedged the girls body was. Finally heaving with all of his might, his legs braced against the tires to maximize his strength, he laned on his butt in the dusty roat. He couldn't budge her!
Cursing loudly, he crawled part way under to see what could have impaled the body to hold it in place so well, fully prepared to enlist Bequet’s help to lift this corner of the bus off them. Their combined strength would be nearly equal to eight or ten very strong Terran men.
He gasped loudly as he crawled under the bus, his breath catching in his throat as a cold fear stabbed his chest when he saw the woman’s head and shoulders twisted to the side, her body wedged up into the wheel well. Yet instead of finding that her body had been torn apart by the tires, it was the wheel well that had been deformed, the steel torn and crumpled into the shape of her face and shoulders. Looking up at her, he saw that she had long blond hair, the strands tangled up in the torn steel of the wheelwell.
Suddenly panicking, he scrambled out from under the bus. He knew that only a Velorian could be both this blond and that invulnerable! He was halfway to the front of the bus before he began thinking at all clearly.
Gasping for breath as he looked back toward the rear of the bus, trying to calm himself by recalling that the woman was out cold. She was also bound about her wrists and ankles with heavy rope.
It took only seconds before his mercenary nature took over. He realized that this could be the chance of a lifetime! That is, if she didn’t wake up for a while. How anyone had managed to tie up a Velorian was one thing, how to keep her tied up was quite another!
Suddenly remembering his extensive training on how to defeat a Velorian, he thought of the gold jewelry his other captives might have hidden in their luggage. If he could use that to curb the Velorian’s power, he might be able to restrain her long enough to get her up to the ship!
He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, well aware that he was playing with wildfire. If she woke up before he had totally restrained her, he was surely dead. Velorians had no mercy for Arions, and generally killed them on sight. And a pissed off Velorian would be an awesome opponent indeed. He and Bequet would probably last for only a few seconds before being dismembered and vaporized!
His knees were shaking as his whole body shuddered with fear, staring at the Velorian's legs, watching for any sign of movement. He saw none. At the same time, he slowly realized that he might be even more afraid of facing Sh’Lyra without his quota of slaves than he was of the unconscious Velorian. In the end, his fear of Sh’Lyra won hands down, his legs moving faster than any Terran’s could as he ran toward Bequet, stuttering as he rapidly explained what he had seen under the bus.
“Charn, for Raol’s sake, slow down. I can’t understand a thing you are saying,” Bequet said, her voice deliberately calm. Charn took a few breaths, the remnants of his training coming to the surface as he brought himself under control.
His voice was almost matter of fact and calm when he spoke again. “Bequet, this is either the luckiest day of our lives or the worst. There is an unconscious Velorian stuck in that wheel well!”
She looked at him sharply, ready to hit him until she saw that he looked very serious. It was now her turn to panic.
“Oh, SHIT, so what do we do now?” she whispered frantically. “We can’t outrun superbeings! They are so cruel and violent, no Arion has survived an encounter with a Velorian!”
“Well, if we hurry,” Charn said urgently, “maybe we can make some crude gold manacles and bind her before she wakes up. She won’t be able to break loose of gold, and her strength will probably be even less than ours then.”
Bequet considered his plan, at first reluctantly, afraid the Velorian would wake up too soon. However, the more she thought about it, the more she began to get greedy too. Everyone knew of Sh’Lyra’s infatuation for Velorians. If they could bring a live one in, they would likely be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams! Sh’Lyra was very generous with those who had earned her favor.
Bequest ran to the driver’s seat and backed the bus up, the wheels grinding horribly against the woman’s body before finally freeing her, the steel wheelwell now badly distorted by the friction of her invulnerable body. It still took a bit of effort to pull the tall woman out, Charn’s eyes almost falling out of his face when he finally stared down at a full-grown Velorian woman laying on her back in the sand. The rumors of their stunning beauty were not exaggerations at all, he thought to himself, momentarily lost in the perfect beauty of her features, her figure so generous, her body almost exaggeratedly beautiful. He had to blink his inappropriate thoughts away. They were still in a very dangerous situation!
Forcefully bringing himself back to the job at hand, he heard Bequet tearing their captives’ luggage apart, her strong fingers rending even their hardsided luggage, looking for enough gold to mold into some restraints. Charn quickly busied himself with struggling to lift the back of the horse from the ground so he could retrieve the leather bags that were still tied to it. Bequet finally came to help him, their combined strength barely enough to lift the horse over their heads before throwing it off to the side of the road.
After Charn took a quick startled look inside the leather saddle bags, he told Bequet to stop looking for gold jewelry in their captives’ luggage. He had found more than enough of it in these bags!
Bequet walked around to the other side of the bus as he dug through the saddlebags. His hands were full of nearly pure gold nuggets when he heard the crackling-squeal of a blaster firing, the sound almost making him jump out of his skin. My God, was the Velorian awake?!
Trembling in fear, he resisted his first instinct to simply run off into the desert, instead running around the bus as Bequet started shouting for him. Her voice sounded amazed rather than fearful.
He found her standing and staring at the unconscious Velorian, the woman’s bare left breast smoking slightly, her chest glowing red-hot from a direct hit from her blaster. He was still staring when Bequet fired again, the brilliant red beam heating the Velorian’s beautifully flat stomach to incandescence before playing lower and vaporizing the sand and dirt from beneath her blonde bush. The beam steadied between her legs, sending a torrent of steam into the air as the moisture inside her body was superheated.
“What are you doing, Bequet, you can’t hurt a Velorian with a fucking blaster.”
“I just wanted to make sure,” she said, her voice shriller than normal, “I thought she moved for a moment. Besides, I never believed those stories about their invulnerability, at least not until now. But damn, that blaster didn’t hurt her at all! Look at her skin, it’s glowing like it was made of platinum!”
Charn sighed, sometimes Bequet acted like a child, he thought to himself. How could she not have believed that Velorians were invulnerable, they had spent weeks in basic training having every aspect of these blonde terrors pounded into them in graphic detail. Hell, if anything, the blaster was going to wake the woman up!
Bequet had a bad habit of getting distracted from their primary goals. Playing with Terran bitches was one thing, but messing around with a Velorian was suicidal! Grabbing her arm firmly, he led her back to where he had placed the gold. They had to get some restraints made!
He showed Bequet how to use her blaster on its lowest setting as she quickly melted the gold nuggets into the four inch-wide, 1/2 inch deep molds of various lengths that Charn had formed in the sand. Charn fed more and more of the nearly pure nuggets into the molds as the blaster melted them down, and presently six gold bars lay cooling in the desert sand. Bars thick enough that not even this Velorian Protector could tear apart the soft metal in the weakened state she would find herself in. As the bars cooled, Charn discovered more gold dust in the leather bags, and put a big bag of it into his pocket.
The two strong Betas finally lifted the still warm gold bars from the sand and began using their unusual strength to bend the nearly pure gold around the Velorian’s neck, waist, wrists and ankles, welding them closed with a burst from Bequet’s blaster, the Velorian’s skin momentarily glowing red-hot again as the blaster heated more than just the gold.
Figuring it couldn’t hurt, Charn poured some of the gold dust down her throat. Then, to finish things off, he shoved five tablets of a drug that prevented vomiting into her mouth, pouring his remaining water after them until the alien girl began choking.
Being in command of an R&R ship was considered a punishment detail for Field Officers who found themselves in disgrace for one reason or another, and they were normally expected to endure such an uneventful command for one year. It was a stain on the service record that all Arion Primes wanted to avoid - all except one. Sh’Lyra was the first Arion to ever volunteer to continue the job after her initial one year punishment detail was up. In fact, by the time she had completed her first year, her superiors were so afraid of her that they immediately agreed to allow her to run the R&R ship for as long as she wished.
Sh’Lyra was considered a threat by many, but she didn’t care. She had always been an outsider in her own society, too smart, too strong, too tall, too egotistical, and far too wicked - even for an Arion. For though she had been born on Aria, and had always considered herself to be Arion, she was not, in fact, of that race. She was a full-blooded Kryptonian, the only member of that race to ever be born off of the isolated planet of Krypton, or one of its various small colonies.
As far as anyone knew, her parents were the only pair of Kryptonian rogues who had ever succeeded in escaping their civilization and also succeeded in having a child. They had come to Aria seeking the violence, excitement and pleasures that could never openly be found on the planet of their birth.
Rogue Kryptonians had served with the Arions in the past, but the arrival of a couple who could breed had started furious planning within the Arion High Command. Previously, attempts had been made to mate rogue Kryptonians with the far less powerful Arion Primes to produce offspring possessed of greater-than-Arion characteristics. The Arion genome, however, had proven to be dominant, and all the resulting children (whether the Arion was mother or father) had been no more powerful than a normal Prime. However, with two Kryptonians at their disposal, an entire battalion could eventually be produced that would easily be a match for the hated Velorian Protectors.
Sh’Lyra’s parents, however, had wanted nothing to do with this scheme, and there was little the High Command could do to force them--short of threatening death, which would accomplish nothing and rob Aria of its two most powerful weapons. So the couple produced only a single child, who they did agree to let the Arions raise and train like a normal Prime while they went off to help in the conquest of a planet in the Zeta quadrant. A planet populated by sentient lizards, most of which were the size of a small house. It was the perfect place for two rogue Kryptonians to immerse themselves in the joys of killing, many thousands of the huge lizards falling before them.
Meanwhile, back on Aria, Sh’Lyra grew up as any other Prime child would, her tremendous physical advantages mostly offset by the power reducing environment of the Arion homeworld. She tried to adapt to being an Arion, even dying her red hair black in order not to stand out amongst her classmates in the Arion Military Academy for Primes. But she was still a Kryptonian, however, and certain very non-Arion tendencies eventually began to appear.
One example was her sexual preferences. In Arion society, it is not possible to be a known lesbian. To be discovered in such a crime invites the enforcers and, once guilt has been established by a rubber-stamp court, the transgressor is locked up for life, or even destroyed. When Sh’Lyra discovered at the age of only fifteen that she had no use for men, but instead truly desired women, she could find only one other female, a fellow cadet, who was willing to risk death to engage in secret carnal pleasures with her. .
This was only one of several things that convinced Sh’Lyra that she was different, but she never suspected how much more powerful than her fellow cadets she really was until she departed Aria for the first time to train on other worlds. Taking immense pleasure in her newfound strength - easily five times that of her Prime classmates - she vowed never to be returned to the weakened state that she had existed in back on Aria. Using her awesome physical power as a tool for intimidation for the first time, she forced her instructors upon the pain of death to grant her early graduation, and full status within the Arion military.
Sh’Lyra quickly found a real home in the Arion military despite her forced graduation. It was the perfect place for her to discover how much she liked to kill! Her early combat assignments taught her just how much she enjoyed the look of fear in her victims’ eyes as she killed them.
At the same time, her hand-to-hand combat skills quickly grew to challenge and finally better her instructors, even when she was asked to face several of them at once! In addition, her vast intelligence and phenomenal physical skills allowed her to learn and teach herself at an alarming rate, until she eventually knew far more than anyone suspected.
Yet in a fashion totally unlike her Arion Prime colleagues, she did not hold the Terrans in contempt. If anything, she felt admiration for them. As weak as they were, they still had developed so many interesting ways to kill or torture people. The Terran clearly enjoyed warfare almost as much as the Arions, and could be far crueler on a larger scale - at least if the unlikely stories of Hitler and Stalin were to be believed.
When Sh’Lyra was finally assigned to Earth a year after her commissioning, she killed as often as she could, finding many amusing and exciting ways to torture the often surprisingly resilient Terrans before killing them. But soon, just killing someone became a bore for her; she needed to find ways to prolong the torture, and not use her great strength so readily.
Her sporting activities were eventually discovered by the High Command, her unauthorized destruction of Terrans in danger of bringing unwanted attention to operations on the planet which were supposed to remain absolutely secret. A disciplinary council sentenced her to remain on Earth for an additional six month period, but she was forbidden to personally kill another Terran during that time. She was then sentenced to serve on the R&R ship after her current assignment on Earth was over!
Several months before she was due to be sent to the R&R ship as punishment, she discovered and joined the Hellblazer Club, in a place called England. Slaves had never interested her before then, her primary satisfaction coming from a quick hunt and a violent death. At the Hellblazer Club, she learned the joys of taking someone and making them into a slave that would do anything for you. She was also ecstatic to find that not only were her sexual preferences not frowned on, they were actively embraced and encouraged! Indeed, Sh’Lyra had for the first time in her life found mental equals, people she could almost call friends. What was most amazing, however, was that these new friends were mostly Terrans!
To the members of this unique club, the ultimate power trip was taking a proud beautiful woman and transforming her into a sexual slave girl who enjoyed pain as much as pleasure. Over the months that followed, Sh’Lyra stayed in contact with the club, and secretly attended it, disguised as a Terran woman, at least once a week.
Later, after taking up her assignment on the R&R ship, she found to her delight that it was the perfect place for her to practice her new skills and to privately own and use female sex slaves. She slowly created her own little empire of very loyal, and very frightened, followers. Unknown to the Arion Empire, Sh’Lyra had very different plans for Earth than the Empire did.
Now at thirty years of age, she was at the peak of her power. She was tall for a woman, tall even compared to a Terran male. Barefoot, Sh’Lyra was 6’9”, muscled like a Terran fitness contestant, and incredibly beautiful. Long, shiny, brilliantly red hair fell down to her remarkably slender waist. She looked exactly like what she was… a domineering super-woman. No longer feeling any need to color her hair black to look like other Arions, she began to explore her unique heritage as a rogue Kryptonian.
Over time, Sh’Lyra gradually began to dress only in black leather mini-skirts with black high heel boots that ran all the way up her incredible legs, stopping midway over her thighs. The spiked heels brought her height to over 7’ tall. The style was borrowed from Earth: it was very popular among her friends at the Hellblazer Club.
A black corset was her main upper garment, one that barely covered her nipples, laced down the front yet gaping open three inches from top to bottom, exposing the rounded contours of her large DD cup breasts, her smooth tanned skin visible to just below the navel. A pain whip and a quirt were commonly seen hanging from the black snakeskin belt that hugged her hips. And last, to provide an overall stunning and exotic effect, she wore a midnight black cape that hung down to calf height.
To most other Arions, Terrans weren’t worthy of study: they were only sub-humans, fit to be killed if they got in the way, to be exploited if they did not. Sh’Lyra saw them in an entirely different light, studying aspects of their dark erotica, their fascinating S&M rituals. Now a master Dominitrix, Sh’Lyra wanted to do more than just physically punish her slaves. After all, their bodies would burst open if she used only a tiny fraction of her true strength, the power of her Kryptonian birthright!
No, what Sh’Lyra discovered was that Orgone energy, infused into Terrans over a long period of time, not only turned them on, but had several interesting side effects. Almost always they became significantly tougher and healed much faster from their wounds. Some actually became intensely domineering themselves, and those that she approved of became her personal slaves, her lovers, and her helpers. Sh’Lyra called them her Doms. Other slaves became more beautiful under the prolonged influence of Orgone, and worshipped Sh’Lyra with their bodies, some of them also becoming many times stronger than ordinary Terrans, stronger even than an Arion Beta, and their bodies also became more shapely than normal.
Those slaves that went insane under her training, and there were always plenty of those, were given to visiting male Primes for their enjoyment, their insanity short lived, as the males inevitably lost control of their powers very quickly, their wild sexual needs generating forces inside the women’s bodies that were tantamount to an explosion! Others, however, became very submissive and nearly perfect slaves.
Sh’Lyra’s vanity knew no bounds, even going so far as to brand all of her slaves personally. She had also discovered, to her delight, that her vaginal fluids somehow made some of her slaves far stronger than normal, approaching half that of an Arion Prime, 500 times that of a normal Terran! These she made her Super-Doms, their powerful bodies often used to pleasure Sh’Lyra herself.
-S-
Part of every slave’s early training under Sh’Lyra involved both Orgone infusion and being forced to pleasure their Mistress for hours at a time. The only problem Sh’Lyra had was controlling her own great strength. She was far stronger than even an Arion Prime male and she sometimes forgot the need for control. More than once Sh’Lyra had killed her slaves as an orgasm ripped her control away, her powerful thighs suddenly closing with deadly finally while a body or a head was still between them. Twice, Sh’Lyra had cut a slave right in two with an excessively enthusiastic blow from her quirt. Unfortunately, none of her slaves were strong enough to really pleasure her all the way to a full climax, not even her Super-Doms. They were always too fragile to withstand the final throes of her orgasm, her preferred slaves being allowed to withdraw, the ones she didn’t care for simply performing for her until they were obliterated between her steely thighs or in her arms.
Like all sexually predatory beings, Sh’Lyra had her own private fantasies, dreams of a lover that she could not know, and could never have. Her most powerful fantasy was to somehow own a Velorian woman, to make her into a loyal pleasure slave, a woman who could easily meet all the demands of her remarkable body, a woman who was as strong as she, but still her slave!
*
It was in the middle of the morning watch when a huge shuttle eased from the five mile long R&R ship, the shuttle itself nearly four hundred feet in length, its cloaking machinery humming as it began the transit from Lunar orbit to the Earth, dropping down toward what most Arions regarded as a backward dirtball planet, making yet another landing to pick up more potential slaves. Sh’Lyra sat alone in the shuttle’s lounge, all the other crew members afraid to come near her, enjoying a wonderful view of her beloved blue planet through the huge ten-foot wide window, the one place in the universe that was like a cornucopia to her.
Charn was driving the bus this time, trying to make up for lost time. Bequet was keeping an eye on the captives, especially the Velorian. He was driving at top speed down the dirt road, the wheels becoming airborne on the bigger bumps.
He came roaring over a rise and down into an arroyo crossing when he suddenly saw a truck coming straight at him. The road was too narrow for two vehicles of this size to pass! He slammed on the brakes, the 80 miles per hour pace of the bus hardly slowing at all as the wheels simply slid in the sand, the distance closing in an instant. The huge bus smashed head-on into the truck!
Charn was thrown halfway through the windshield, but the massive bus had the greater momentum, tearing the truck to shreds as it nearly exploded against the front of the bus. Charn finally brought the vehicle to a stop a hundred yards beyond the collision site. Pulling his face from the broken glass of the windshield, he was glad that his Arion bloodline was far more robust than a Terran’s.
Scrambling out the door and running back toward the mangled truck, he was shocked to see a pretty blonde girl hanging out one side, her body moving as she tried to free herself. However, when he reached the driver’s side of the truck, his usually strong stomach was sickened at the sight of the smeared gore that used to be a man, his body smooshed halfway through the spokes of the steering wheel.
He ran to the other side of the vehicle, shocked to see that the girl looked unhurt, her body trapped in place by the collapsed steel of the truck. He was getting ready to help her when he heard Bequet calling out frantically, something about a fire! He turned to see flames reaching up from the back of the truck, suddenly remembering that these vehicles used a crude, and highly explosive, petroleum fuel. He turned and ran for his life.
He heard a loud thump from the truck behind him, a hot burst of air throwing him face-first to the ground. Struggling to stand back up, he brushed the dirt from his eyes while turning back to look at the truck. It was fully engulfed in flames! His eyes turned quickly to the poor girl, her golden hair lifting upward in the heat, her clothing catching fire even as he watched. She was suddenly surrounded by fierce bright flames, her body still trapped in the vehicle!
The fire burned itself out in less than ten minutes, and afterwards Charn walked cautiously forward, a morbid curiosity driving him to observe the remains of the unfortunate girl. Approaching the truck, he was suddenly shocked when he saw the girl lift her head to look calmly at him, her body somehow undamaged by the flames! His eyes ran over her nude and obviously invulnerable body, pausing to stare at her incredibly dramatic chest as she tried to cover herself with her hands. It was then that he noticed that she was manacled, a pair of very thick gold handcuffs surrounding her wrists. A sudden wild thought in his mind--another one?!! Could she be another Velorian, captured by this now dead Terran man? Could they be lucky enough to have found TWO of them in one day?!!!!
He was standing speechless in the desert when Bequet ran up, aiming her blaster not at the girl, but at the metal that was trapping her. The loud scream of the weapon made Charn cover his ears, the steel suddenly melting away from where it held the girl, her strong legs helping to push it outward as she tumbled face first into the sand beside the burned-out truck.
*
Monique couldn’t talk. The fire had heated her body so severely that it had boiled the water from her mouth and throat, and her tongue was now stuck to the roof of her mouth. She knew by the weapon the woman was wielding that these were aliens, their swarthy appearance probably meaning they were Arions like Kirrin! She found she could hardly think! The combination of gold intoxication and heat from the fire had turned her on so strongly that her body was almost out of control. Damn! Why had she let Jim leave these restraints on her? Why had she agreed to go along with his strange fetish?
Charn had seen the ray from the blaster touch the girl’s arm for a moment, leaving her tanned skin unmarked: a sure sign that he was dealing with a Velorian woman! He rushed forward, reassured by the thick gold handcuffs restraining her, and pulled her to her feet. Her lips nearly touched his as she seemed to be pleading with him, not to be released but for something that any man would recognize - she was pleading for him to pleasure her, her body stirring him as he could feel her arousal somehow in the very air! Her eyes were dazed, almost as if she had already taken some of the drugs that Charn often forced down his slaves’ throats.
He felt his pants stretching, his more than human manhood asserting itself, as he stared back at her, her need so urgent, his unique Arion birthright becoming very erect, her body clearly wanting what he could give her. He knew about gold intoxication, but had never been with a woman who was a user before, knowing only what he had read about it. She certainly had all the signs, and the gold handcuffs made it hard to deny. He was having a difficult time resisting her when he heard Bequet’s voice in his ear.
“Charn,” she said reasonably, “I realize you’d like to make it with the bitch, and she is probably a Velorian like the other, but if we don’t get her aboard and get going, we’re both going to be killed when we arrive late to the rendezvous no matter HOW many blonde supergirls we have as cargo!”
“Yeah, right!” With that, Charn threw the girl over his shoulder, climbed into the bus, attached her gold handcuffs to the railing near the front, and shoved her down in the seat. Bequet untwisted one of the gold bars from the first woman and put it around the new girl’s neck, fastening it to the side rail of the bus.
Charn watched the girl’s eyes roll up in her head when she was collared, her body collapsing as the toxic effects of the increased gold contact proved more than even her superhuman physique could resist! He moved quickly, handcuffing her to the seat while Bequet installed an Orgone device, obviously straining as the young Velorian’s body proved to be very, very tight. The girl’s strength may have been reduced by the gold, but her invulnerability was still mostly intact, her young firm body challenging Bequet’s strength.
Charn and Bequet arrived at the pickup site late, terror gripping their souls when they saw the that the landing craft was already on the ground. Their fears were redoubled when they saw that Sh’Lyra herself was waiting, pacing back and forth impatiently!
Meanwhile, Sh’Lyra was angry at herself for losing control just a little while earlier, angry and impatient. Her current frustration stemmed from her getting too excited on the way to Earth as her newest and cleverest tongue-sex slave had pleasured her. In the throes of her orgasm, her powerful thighs had crushed her newest playtoy’s skull, suddenly interrupting her pleasure. Pissed at herself, Sh’Lyra had had her two slave Doms clean her off as she whipped them severely.
As soon as they had landed, she had marched her favorite slaves, the yellow-haired ones, out of the ship and had punished them. Just watching the welts she had placed on their backs and bottoms had made her think of her favorite daydream, the one about the Velorian. She was so tired at having to hold herself back, to restrain the awesome powers that lived in her muscles.
Glancing up from her slaves, she saw that even Xar, the huge Prime male who acted as her (little needed) bodyguard and enforcer, was warily standing back from her now after using his heat vision to vaporize the unfortunate woman’s crushed body. She was in a rare and dangerous mood.
*
Sh’Lyra took a deep breath and calmed herself until her anger when she saw the dust cloud of the arriving bus coming toward her. The arrival of new slaves was the most important ritual of her command and she would not allow her current foul mood to be visible to anyone, at least not by anyone who didn’t know her well. Janee, her number one slave Dom, knelt to one side of her, proffering a glass of deep red wine.
Janee herself shivered in the hot sun. She could sense her Mistress’ black mood and knew someone was going to die in the next few minutes, and die very horribly if history was any example. She didn’t want that someone to be her. So she was overjoyed when she saw the filthy dust-covered bus bumping down the road, approaching rapidly, remembering Sh’Lyra’s extreme dislike for Charn, the expedition leader. While she disliked all males, Charn had gotten under her skin earlier by being below quota. He was a slacker.
*
Bequet jumped off the bus almost before it stopped moving, her heart pounding, and ran across the desert sand to her waiting leader. Her mouth grew dry as she approached Sh’Lyra, amazed at how tall she was, having never had the misfortune to stand next to her before. Falling to her knees, she bowed her head to this very dangerous woman, staring at the ground and shivering with fright. She heard her leader’s low voice speaking in a threatening tone.
“Bequet, you are under quota... AGAIN! Did I not tell you the punishment for failing me a second time?” Bequet cringed, knowing that Sh’Lyra’s remarkable eyes had examined the cargo she carried even before they bus had stopped moving.
Fortunately for Bequet, she glanced up in time to see her superior’s eyes starting to glow red, her imminent death forcing her to blurt out, “Mistress, we have captured two Velorians!”
Surprised, Sh’Lyra blinked her eyes, momentarily interrupting the massive flows of energy into her eyes, and addressed Bequet in her most insolent voice.
“How can you lie to me like this, woman, do you honestly think it will save your life? You cannot hide such a deception from me!”
Yet a wild thrill pulsed through Sh’Lyra’s body even as she spoke. Even the wildest possibility that this underling might be telling the truth excited her beyond bounds!
As the worm named Bequet raised her eyes, Sh’Lyra smiled an evil smile and cocked an eyebrow, relishing the obvious fear on the worm’s face as she babbled an implausible story about running over a Velorian woman with her bus and then smashing into a truck carrying yet another Velorian woman!
*
While Bequet urgently negotiated for their lives, Charn rushed out of the bus with the women in question slung over his strong shoulders, carrying them over to Sh’Lyra for inspection. Stopping halfway to her, his legs weak with fear, he dropped them into a crumpled and unconscious heap in the sand. He couldn’t help but stare at Sh’Lyra as she stalked over toward him, his thoughts much like a rabbit as it was hypnotized by a fox, too frightened to even run away! Bequet stayed behind, still kneeling in the sand, as Sh’Lyra now ignored her.
So overwhelming was the pure power and presence Sh’Lyra projected as she approached, combined with her dangerous beauty, that Charn, in spite of, or perhaps even because of his very real fears of punishment or death, became instantly and strongly aroused, the Arion response to overwhelming danger. She made him so hard that he was afraid he was going to rip his pants apart!
Fortunately, he wasn’t totally suicidal. The way that the bitch, Bequet, had fawned on her gave him an idea. As soon as he got back to the main ship he would submit a formal complaint about Bequet and her disgusting habits to the military command. He smiled at the thought that Bequet herself might then be sentenced to stay with Sh’Lyra, or even worse, be sent back to Earth for another assignment!
*
Normally Sh’Lyra would have observed the smile on the man’s face and the swelling in his pants as his eyes ran over her body and punished him for insolence, but the naked blonde females displayed before her so captivated her attention that Sh’Lyra had eyes nothing else. They looked every bit as stunningly beautiful and athletic as a pair of Velorian’s should!
She saw the gold bands binding their arms, the only technique known for restraining a Velorian, and the sight of the women’s blond hair, the color of their golden restraints, made her heart pound with excitement. “Could my dreams really have come true?” she wondered to herself. “No, it had to be a cheap trick, blonde Terran women in gold bands!”
It was obvious that one woman was perhaps in her early twenties or very late teens, her body very ripe and developed; the other appeared much younger, two or three years younger if her face was any indication, but in typically Velorian style, her body looked more mature than her face. Smiling, Sh’Lyra watched as a nervous Bequet joined them, pulling out a Terran projectile weapon, something she knew was called a pistol, and aimed it at the younger blonde female, the teenager. Sh’Lyra knew from experience that such a weapon was lethal to all Terrans, and its loud report surprised even her with its intensity. Yet she saw how the girl’s large breast simply dimpled from the bullet’s impact. Her soft flesh merely quivered for a moment, no visible mark left from the bullet except for a small smear of lead on her soft tanned skin!
Sh’Lyra almost laughed out loud with joy, seeing that no damage had been done to this luscious young beauty, immediately convinced that she was at least a disguised Arion Prime if not truly a Velorian. Indeed, the girl moaned and her nipples seemed to grow far larger after the impact, soon extending well over an inch in length and more than half that in thickness!
“Shoot her again, and shoot the other one too,” Sh’Lyra said quickly, her voice growing husky with excitement. Bequet smiled and shot the other woman, her shot striking the other woman’s large breast directly on her nipple, the impact causing her breast also to jiggle back and forth wildly. Without asking or being told, Bequet turned and rapidly fired again and again at the naked bodies of both women, the impacts traveling up and down their perfect bodies, reloading her gun several times, stopping only when she ran completely out of bullets.
Charn continued the test by using Bequet’s phaser, the annihilating energies merely making the two young women’s bodies glow from its energies, the sand melting around the women as he expended most of the power charge.
“Enough,” Sh’Lyra said unnecessarily, her voice trembling in excitement, hardly able to speak. She knew she needed to finish getting the other slaves on board so she could spend time with these two... My God, with her two Velorians!
“Line the slaves up.” Her voice was sharp and all business now, he self control returning despite her wild excitement.
The other slaves quickly staggered from the bus and were forced to kneel in the sand next to the shuttle, her two Doms needing to crack their whips frequently to get the attention of the Orgone-infused and very bewildered slaves.
Sh’Lyra grabbed the long blond hair of the two Velorians and lifted them from the ground, carrying the two of them over her head with no effort, and returned to the throne-like chair she had brought from the ship to provide an appropriately regal place for her to sit. Dropping their still unconscious bodies on either side of it, she sat down to watch the other slaves being processed.
As soon as all the slaves were kneeling, Janee walked up and down in front of them. While Janee was normally proud of her post and very loyal to her Mistress, the review of new slaves was the most thrilling part of her job. She watched their faces closely, seeing fear battling with their Orgone-induced lust, the conflicting emotions struggling against each other to gain control their bodies, the Orgone usually winning.
“Watch and learn, or die,” was all she said as she passed each one.
Sh’Lyra finally stood again and walked over to Janee, her terrible presence striking awe into all who watched her. Janee gracefully knelt down and placed her head on to the ground.
“Mistress, the slaves are ready for inspection.”
*
Janee shivered with excitement in the hot sun, wondering which one of the new slaves Sh’Lyra would kill as an example to the others. She was surprised when Sh’Lyra inspected each slave without killing any of them, returning instead to her Chair and calling for Bequet and Charn to approach her.
The two agents suddenly became very nervous, sweat running down their backs, their minds wild with fear. They had hoped that Sh’Lyra would take out her anger on one or more of their new slaves before they had to face her!
Without knowing why or analyzing her feelings, Bequet copied the position that Janee had assumed; she knew without being told that death was very close. Charn looked down in surprise as his partner knelt in the sand, a look of disgust on his face. As a man, he wasn’t about to bow to this sick woman, even if she was his commander!
Sh’Lyra laughed, “Charn, your partner is much smarter than you. I guess you are the one who has decided to die today!” With that, she stood back up and raised her hands to tear him apart as a reminder to the rest of the Doms. She had always enjoyed wrapping her long arms around a male and then embracing him, her soft embrace turning into something quite different as she slowly and deliberately crushed their bodies against the steel of her own.
Deciding that that would be a fitting punishment for his failure to prostrate himself as she required, she also knew that he would be sexually aroused by her touch right up to the point where his body collapsed in her arms!
Startled that Sh’Lyra was not going to even give him a chance to explain his actions, Charn looked up into her eyes. Janee and the other doms were shocked a moment later to see his hand blurring as he drew a peculiar looking gun a second before he fired it at their Mistress! Violet rays shot out from it, striking their Mistress in the chest. She did not move to protect herself.
Sh’Lyra snarled as pain flared all over her skin, instantly recognizing that Charn was using a rare suicide photon pistol! This pistol was the product of a now dead alien world, its beam powerful enough to kill even an Arion Prime. It normally also killed the wielder of the weapon with a fatal dose of radiation.
Sh’Lyra was pushed a half step backward, her upper body becoming white hot in microseconds, a scream of expanding vapors coming from all of her bodily orifices as her skin was suddenly heated to several thousand degrees. Three slaves were instantly vaporized from rays that reflected from her body, her skin suddenly looking like polished silver, glowing mirror bright. One such reflected ray struck Janee as she dove forward to throw herself at Charn. She fell to the earth screaming, her skin burned over most of her body.
Sh’Lyra slumped and fell to one knee as Charn continued to hold that hellish beam on her, her entire body glowing white-hot now, her skin maintaining its bright metallic sheen. The sand melted to a pool of glass beneath her as the hellish energy reflected from her body onto the ground.
Xar, Sh’Lyra’s bodyguard, ran toward Charn shouting his battle cry. Leaping over all of the slaves, he landed close to the assassin. His huge hand engulfed the weapon in Charn’s hand before snapping closed, the gun instantly crushing along with every bone in Charn's hand. Lifting Charn into the air with one massive hand, he raised the other to deliver the killing blow.
“STOP!” Sh’Lyra bellowed, her voice shrill almost to the point of inaudibility, her body still glowing as brightly as a star. Xar turned to stare at her, surprise etched over his scarred face. He saw Sh’Lyra slowly regain her feet, her body still hot enough to melt the sand beneath her feet, yet her face showed no sign of pain. She was naked now, her leather garments vaporized by the beam and from her superheated mirror-bright skin. Yet her suddenly unveiled beauty was unmarred. Xar could not help himself as his eyes feasted on the remarkable contrast between her very large breasts and her incredibly thin waist, her body fully revealed to him for the first time!
He was once again completely entranced by the raw power of this magnificent woman as she apparently was unharmed by the extended onslaught! Such a gun had once crippled and scarred him for life, and he had been exposed to its hellish rays for only a tenth of the time as she.
“Release him and step away, Xar,” Sh’Lyra commanded in a shrill voice, the superheated air from her lungs distorting her normally deep voice.
Charn, cradling his broken hand, yelled at Bequet, “Help me, you stupid bitch! If she kills me, you are next!” Bequet did not respond except to press her face still deeper into the sand where Sh’Lyra had been standing, her body quaking in fear.
Sh’Lyra straightened up to her full height, facing Charn as she moved closer.
“Stupid little man, your death would have been fast, but now it will be slow. And Bequet, you will join him in his agony if you allow Janee to die.”
With that, her eyes flashed red, terrible rays shooting out from her eyes to sheer Charn’s feet violently off at the ankles! He fell screaming to the ground.
Bequet was shaking like a leaf in a storm as she sprang awkwardly to her feet, darted over to Janee to quickly check her pulse, desperately relieved to find her still alive. Running for her life, she retrieved the medical kit from the shuttle, rigidly trying not to notice as Sh’Lyra tortured her former partner, concentrating instead on saving Janee’s life, on saving her own life.
Meanwhile, Sh’Lyra calmly reached down to Charn and ripped off his clothes. Then, grasping his good wrist, the heat from her hand cooking and charring his flesh, Sh’Lyra smiled at him. As if she were idly plucking petals from a flower, Sh’Lyra plucked off each finger from his unbroken hand, casually sealing each wound with flashes of heat vision, being careful not to kill him. His screams echoed loudly off a distant rock formation.
“Never arouse my anger,” Sh’Lyra advised him sweetly, her voice just loud enough for everyone to hear, “and never ever underestimate my powers.”
To Xar’s amazement, Sh’Lyra walked calmly over to the bus, small desert scrub igniting in flames as she came near, and suddenly plunged her hands into its engine compartment. Steam exploded from her superheated skin as the water from the engine’s radiator quenched her superheated body. Slowly lifting the massive bus over her head to drain the radiator over her body, she neatly tossed it nearly a quarter of a mile away with just a shrug of her powerful shoulders!
She turned and smiled at Charn, almost as if recalling the presence of a long lost friend, and strolled back over to him as he lay moaning on the ground. Grasping his neck in one hand, Sh’Lyra lifted him into the air, the fingers of her other hand gripping the center of his chest. Pausing until his eyes met hers, she began to stab her long nails through his skin, her fingers slowly ripping their way between his ribs as he screamed in pain and terror. Pausing, holding herself motionless for a long, pregnant moment, she stared ferally into his bloodshot and horrified eyes, savoring his wild fear. Finally her hand inexorably closed to tear his ribcage wide open. A final thrust of her hand easily surrounded his wildly beating heart. Muscles that could crush steel suddenly flexed and the organ exploded in her hand, Charn’s body spasming for a few brief moments, then becoming still.
Whirling around, she tossed his body a thousand feet into the air with a mighty flex of her arm. Two thin beams lanced out from her eyes to vaporize his body before it reached the ground again, a small cloud of brown greasy smoke released to dissipate on the planet he had so detested.
Turning to Bequet, her voice low this time, she spoke urgently. “Will Janee live?”
“Yes Mistress,” Bequet replied shakily, “I believe so, if she gets to an Arion doctor very soon.”
“So, Bequet, you now have a choice to make. You can become one of my pets, or die cleanly here and now. I will not prolong your death as I did with your male partner.”
Sh’Lyra posed the choice to Bequet as calmly as if she were a waitress suggesting a selection from the day’s menu. Bequet suddenly felt very weak in the knees, glad she was already kneeling.
“Please, I want to live,” she whispered.
“ ‘If it pleases you’ is the proper reply, Bequet. Stand up and strip while I decide whether to let you live after all.”
Quickly Bequet obeyed, tears flowing down her face as she undressed in front of the entire assembly, unsure whether she was about to die or not. Once she was naked, Sh’Lyra had her pose, showing off both her beauty and the symmetry and size of her strong body as Sh’Lyra walked around and inspected her. Bequet was suddenly very glad she had exercised so hard every day, her body was still firm and strong.
“Stand up straight with your hands over your head.”
Trembling, Bequet obeyed, watching as Sh’Lyra heated up her own right hand with her heat vision until it was almost white hot. Slipping her left forefinger into Bequet’s mouth, Sh’Lyra cupped her right hand around Bequet's firm rounded bottom, the sizzle and smoke of charred flesh branding her for life. Bequet screamed as she bit down on Sh’Lyra’s invulnerable finger, nearly fainting from the pain!
“You are mine now, Bequet, mine for the rest of your life. Serve me well and you will live and prosper. Fail me once and you will die. Now, load the Terran slaves on the ship, put the Velorians in my personal chamber, and let’s go home. We have slaves to train!!”
A cry rose from the Doms, their excitement and relief driven by Sh’Lyra’s own enthusiasm, the new slaves soon marching in a ragged line toward the shuttle.
Strange and troubling visions filled Monique’s half conscious mind. Visions of Aurora, visions of horrible heat and flames, memories of a bright light that washed her mind clean. She slowly approached consciousness, thoughts of lust completely filling her mind, her body tingling wildly and unexplainably as if she were on the very edge of a powerful orgasm.
The heady emotions of barely escaping death rushed though her mind again to combine with the strange tingling sensations that coursed though out her body. The closer she came to awareness, the more she found she was inexplicably turned on!
Her entire body felt warm and tingly, but her nipples - God, they felt like points of fire! Her sex was very damp, her inner thighs slid smoothly against each other and she knew she was aroused almost to the point of ecstasy.
Her eyes suddenly snapped open with a start, aware that someone seemed to be playing with her. But opening her eyes didn’t achieve anything: she was blindfolded, her super vision somehow suppressed. She arched her back and thrust her chest upward as the tingles from someone’s soft caresses moved teasingly downwards from her breasts, to her stomach, into her blond bush! She struggled with all her strength to move her arms and legs. Gasping, she found that she could not, and was profoundly shocked. Even in the short time she had owned these new powers, she had become used to being a thousand times stronger than any normal human, able to break free of any conceivable bonds.
A vile curse that turned into a soft moan escaped her mouth when her nether lips were forcefully spread apart, the unusual control that she had of her now powerful labial muscles proving incapable of resisting the rape of her body! She gasped hoarsely as a blunt object was eased powerfully into her vagina. It was only halfway into her when Monique felt her body betraying her, a fresh burst of arousal filling her, forcing her to open herself eagerly to the penetration, suddenly wanting, needing, to have something - anything - inside of her at this moment, the feeling so wonderful that she couldn’t help from arching her back in pleasure. A burst of strange energy exploded through her body from the rod as it moved deeper within her, and from the throbbing of her breasts, her soft moans becoming almost a hiss as overwhelming pleasure shook her body. She had no idea what was going on, but she simply didn't care! She was alive and VERY aroused, and that was all that mattered.
“Remove the blindfold, Symbala,” a woman’s powerful voice commanded in a language Monique knew she didn’t recognize, but somehow understood. Monique gasped in pleasure again as she felt the large soft, yet very firm, breasts of a naked woman brushing her arms as her blindfold was removed. She blinked and looked up at a very beautiful nude black girl, looking barely 18 years old, her large upturned breasts standing out proudly on her chest, her warm face smiling down at her.
The black girl quickly stood to one side and knelt down, revealing an image of the tallest and most powerful woman Monique had ever seen. “What was your name, slave?” the tall woman demanded.
“Monique is my name, and I am not your slave!” she retorted defiantly, barely noticing that she was responding in the same unfamiliar language that the woman had spoken. “I am called PowerGirl by those who know my true abilities!
“Well my little slave, I am Sh’Lyra, whom you will address now and forever only as Mistress. You will soon become my newest battle slave. My tests show that you are not a Velorian. You have small traces of Velorian genes, and a significant amount of Arion ones, but you are a Terran whose body has been mutated on a far greater scale than any of my own Doms. That kind of mutation could only have been caused by ingesting mutagenic hormones during the intimate servicing of a female Arion. In my judgment, you were her lover or slave for quite a while. What was her name?”
Monique was shocked by the woman’s knowledge of her secret past, her voice betraying her for a moment as it whispered, “Kirrin, and you are right; I was her slave, but I didn’t know it at the time.” Then in almost a shout she added, “And I shall never be anyone's slave again!”
Sh’Lyra laughed in pleasure: this one she was going to enjoy. Particularly since she was going to be able to exercise almost her full powers in her training. She turned to address the black girl. “Symbala, keep her at the edge. You can remove her gold bands in four hours, but only if you have her firmly under sexual control.”
“Yes, my Mistress,” she answered, her head bowing deferentially.
Sh’Lyra then reached down behind Monique and lifted the taller Velorian woman into sight, her fingers buried deeply in one soft breast as she lifted her by that delicate flesh. Aurora’s hands and arms were still bound cruelly behind her back with gold chains, a beautiful gold belt fastened tightly around her narrow waist. Clamped to Aurora’s nipples were tiny gold-cased Orgone generators.
Monique could not explain the rage she suddenly felt at seeing someone handling Aurora like that, dangling her off the floor by only her breast! Turning, Sh’Lyra left the room without looking back at Monique, her last words directed to Symbala.
“I will take this one myself, Michelle. She is clearly a full-blooded Velorian. And the Arion called Kirrin: I recognize that name. She was one of the Primes supposedly killed when the previous Command Ship was destroyed. If she survived and is on the Earth, I want her found!!! Tell our agents to locate her and bring her before me before the sun sets twice!”
*
Just before Sh’Lyra disappeared, Monique saw Aurora’s toes curl up in pain, muscles flexing dramatically across Sh’Lyra’s arm and shoulder as Sh’Lyra cruelly crushed the Velorian’s breast in a grip that she instinctively knew was even greater than her own strength! Yet as Monique opened her mouth to yell, Symbala stood on her toes and kissed her forcefully, her tongue invading her mouth. Monique tried to bite her tongue, but found that Symbala was too strong and powerful, her strength now clearly greater than her own weakened state.
“Sssh, if you want to stay alive, don’t ever yell at her, and never openly question her!”
Then she pinched both of Monique's nipples playfully but quite hard. “That’s for biting my tongue. As long as you wear your gold bands I’m far stronger than you.”
Monique could not help but notice that Symbala was only 5’2” tall and very cute. And while her breasts looked unnaturally large on her, their very slight teardrop shape was a testimony to the athletic firmness of her body. Her tiny waist, muscular thighs and arms and slender neck added to her appeal. Her black hair was long and straight, and despite her dark skin, her features were exactly like those of a Caucasian, even though that term should have meant nothing for such an alien girl. Monique licked her lips, guessing what was in store for her, as Symbala toyed with her own extremely large dark nipples right in front of her!
Smiling like a cat about to drink milk, Symbala slowly rubbed Monique’s entire body with her large breasts. Her big hard nipples teased every sensitive spot on Monique’s body, seemingly vibrating with pleasure, her lips and tongue kissing everything as she explored her. She expertly brought Monique right to the edge of orgasm again and again, slowing or stopping each time just before Monique’s climax could bring blessed relief. Panting in frustration, unexplainable rage burning stronger and stronger within her, Monique watched her sweet torturer move over to a machine.
She screamed as Symbala touched a dial and Orgone energy was violently infused into her body. Indescribable pleasure, growing and surging with no release, spread throughout her body, her breasts glowing green, her wetness flowing copiously down her legs, soaking her to her ankles. She was quickly reduced to whimpering helplessly as Symbala endlessly licked her inner thighs, lapping up her warm fluids like a small cat. But even as Monique gradually lost control over her body, she vowed that somehow she would save Aurora.
After four hours of this agonizingly pleasant torture, Symbala finally removed her new slave’s gold bands. As lightning leapt from Monique’s body and crashed around the room, the display of unrestrained power an obvious signal of the return of her full powers, Monique sprang to her feet, ready to do battle with her tormentor, only to collapse immediately back to the floor, her hands rushing uncontrollably between her legs, her voice crying out in wordless passion. Her returning powers had only enhanced the effect of the Orgone, its power over the victim’s body directly related to their vitality and strength. The return of Monique’s incredible strength only fed the Orgone, affording her no chance, no thought even of escape!
For the next ten days Monique would be allowed no release from the Orgone torture. When not applying that sweet torture to her quivering body, Symbala bathed her, fed her, or slept at her feet. The bond between Dom and slave began to be established; however, the verdict was still out on which super girl was to be the Dom, and which was to be her slave!
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