Planet of Pain (8 page)

He eased her down on the bed and put his hands between her thighs, encouraging her to open them. She forced herself to relax, and he pushed her knees wide apart. He put his first two fingers in his mouth, depositing saliva, then eased them inside her. He worked his hand back and forth, slowly at first, then with increased vigour.

‘This is more like it,' he said. ‘I bet your boyfriend does this to you, eh?'

She thought about Mike, though he wasn't really a boyfriend. They'd never properly sorted out what they were to each other. Friends, certainly, and lovers. She remembered their last day together, before she shipped out to take up her posting. He'd been worried about her going into combat, and she'd spent most of the time – when they weren't in bed – trying to reassure him. Though she knew it made no sense she couldn't help feeling she was letting Mike down by submitting to this. Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked and forced them back. No way would she let this Leaguer see her cry.

‘You like this, Jo-Jo?'

Taks was gasping a little from his exertions. She could see how he might think she was enjoying it, for her body's response to the fingering was everything he could wish for – her hips were moving, her breathing had quickened and her cheeks were flushed. Only her mind remained aloof, refusing to join in the fun.

He worked her for several minutes more, then his movements slowed and finally he took his hand away. ‘My turn now,' he said breathlessly.

He stood up and took off his clothes, folding them carefully and laying them in a neat pile on the chair. He had an erection, though it started to wilt somewhat as he rolled up his socks and stuffed them into his boots. She sat up, then wondered if she should lay back again. She didn't know what he wanted.

‘So what do you think?' he said, naked now. ‘Not bad for thirty-nine, eh?' He patted his abdomen. He had a potbelly, though he was trying to hold it in, and his legs were too skinny for his body. ‘I should probably take more exercise, but you know how it is.' He came closer, standing right in front of her, smiling. He tipped up her chin and brushed a strand of hair from her face. ‘Mind you, they say sex is the best exercise of all, don't they?'

He put his left hand behind her neck, drawing her forward, and touched his cock to her lips – and that resolved her doubts about what he wanted. She opened her mouth and took him in. His erection returned with a vengeance and she sucked him, holding the glans in her mouth and working his shaft with her fingers. Within a minute his movements were becoming urgent. She thought he would come in her mouth, but without warning he withdrew, laughing that it was too soon.

He told her to lie back and proceeded to mount her. Five minutes of missionary position sex followed, then five minutes with her legs over his shoulders, then five minutes with Jo on top. His perpetual smile began to irritate her, and it was almost a relief when he turned her over and took her from behind. He came in this position, groaning and thrusting hard into her, then collapsed on the bed where he lay gasping, telling her how great she was. Jo rolled onto her back and lay staring at the deckhead, feeling empty inside.

They rested till he was ready again, and then he had her raise her legs, all the way back till her knees were touching her chest. He did the saliva trick again, and then pushed his middle finger into her anus. One finger became two, which stretched her sphincter, and Jo groaned and stiffened.

‘Easy now,' he said. ‘Don't fight it.'

He worked his fingers in her and she moaned. She'd guessed it might happen, but hadn't realised how bad it would be.

‘I'm doing you a favour, Jo-Jo,' he said. ‘The enlisted men will sodomise you for sure, so it won't hurt as much if you've been stretched a bit first.'

Which was all well and good, except it was hurting now. Her sphincter burned and she clamped her jaw to keep from crying out. After a while he had her turn facedown and spread her legs as wide as she could. He fucked her in this fashion; his cock in her rectum, the burning pain supplemented by a bone-deep ache that grew less bearable with each passing minute.

‘You'll be getting lots of this, I guarantee it,' he said. ‘You should thank me for breaking you in gently.'

It went on and on. He'd found his second wind and was in no hurry to finish. He talked to her, murmuring endearments, asking if it was nice, and didn't seem to care in the least when he failed to get a reply.

At length he began to pick up the pace, driving into her. Eventually she sensed his approaching climax and braced herself for the final onslaught. He was grunting now, ramming against her buttocks, and she gritted her teeth and clutched the blanket. He gave a wordless cry and thrust once, hard, then once more. He shuddered, then withdrew from her and slumped onto the bed with a long, spent groan. He rolled onto his back, then reached over and patted her rump.

‘You,' he sighed, ‘are one hell of a fuck, you know that?'

It was to be his final observation, for within minutes his breathing slowed and she knew he was asleep. She turned onto her side and slowly drew up her knees. She lay still, and in time the fierce ache began to subside. She closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep, but thankful she could at least rest, and thankful above all that it was over.

She was aboard
Firefly
; except that it wasn't – it was a much bigger ship. They were under attack and she was trying to reach the escape pod. There was a clang, and armoured troopers in black came charging in through the main hatch. She screamed and tried to run, but they caught her and rammed her back against the bulkhead. They tore off her hospital gown and one of them shoved the barrel of his gun between her legs, forcing it inside her.

She woke with a start to find Taks pressed up against her back. His arms were around her and his finger was inside her vagina. ‘Morning,' he murmured. ‘Sleep well?'

She nodded.

‘We've a few hours yet till you have to go back. Plenty of time for more “exercise”.'

He chuckled, and she felt his cock pressing between her buttocks. Her anus was sore and she cried out, and slowly he began to move in her.

 

 

 

 

Sergeant Vaughan called for her at the appointed time, and she fell in behind him as they began to collect the others in reverse order. Cassie didn't look any happier than she had ten hours previously, and the tough-looking young woman seemed pretty miserable too.

‘Mine was a limp-dick lootenant,' she complained to Jo in a whisper. ‘Had to suck on him half the goddam—'

‘Stow it, Fournier,' Vaughan said over his shoulder.

‘Hey, sarge… I mean sir,' she said, ‘how about fixing me up with a quartet of your horniest and best next time? Haven't had me a decent fuck in weeks.'

‘I said stow it.'

Bel came out of her cabin looking very tired. The rest were picked up one by one and Vaughan returned them to their quarters. Nina Reyes spoke briefly with each woman, checking on her troops like a good officer should.

‘Is Linda back, major?' Bel asked.

‘I'm afraid not,' Nina said. ‘Sorry.'

‘I was thinking of asking Sergeant Vaughan if he's heard anything. Unless you'd rather talk to him yourself, as senior officer?'

Nina shook her head. ‘I think you'll do better; the sergeant and I got off to a bad start. Hell, I
know
you'll do better. I never met a man yet who can resist a cleavage. Let me know how you get on.'

She spotted Cassie and went to talk to her. Vaughan had disappeared, and Bel sat down to await his return. Jo headed for the showers, and was joined by the tough-looking young woman. As the soap found her anus, Jo gasped.

‘Sore bum?' her companion asked with a grin.

‘Yes,' Jo said tightly.

‘Me too. I reckon my limp-dick lootenant's a fag. My butt was the only thing he was interested in.' She held out her hand. ‘Stella Fournier.'

‘Jo O'Donnell.'

They shook hands. Stella Fournier had a strong, confident grip, and the grin was infectious. Jo found herself smiling in spite of her troubles.

‘You're an officer, right?' the woman said.

Jo nodded. ‘Your favourite kind: a lieutenant.'

‘Yeah? With a body like that I'm betting you don't have no trouble with limp-dicks. I'd kill for tits like yours.'

She stared at Jo in open admiration, and Jo stared back. Stella Fournier had an athlete's build, hard and lean, with well-defined musculature and not an ounce of fat. Her belly was flat as a board, her breasts were small with prominent nipples, and her legs looked strong enough to kick down a blast door.

They both realised they were staring at the same instant. Jo felt herself blushing, but Stella just laughed.

‘Hell, we all gotta make do with what we got, right lootenant?'

They talked as they soaked under the hot spray. Stella was a cargo handler off an old bulk freighter. They'd suffered drive failure and were scooped up by a League patrol.

‘No-balls captain of ours refused to fight,' she muttered. ‘Just handed over the female crew – that's me – like I was so much goddam fuck-meat.'

‘They didn't take any men?'

‘Naw, just me. Leaguers let them be after that. For all I know they're still out there, trying to fix the drive.'

Jo in turn told Stella about
Firefly
, and gave a brief rundown of everything that had happened, right up to their meeting with the admiral.

‘Any idea why this Talmann guy stripped your captain down?' she asked.

Jo shook her head. ‘Not really. We know he must have seen a tape of our interrogation from things he said. The only thing I can think is that he wanted to find out if Bel looked as good in the flesh.'

‘Yeah, that figures,' Stella said. ‘She's something, ain't she, your pal? I reckon she could give a corpse a hard on.'

Jo looked at her, suddenly suspicious of this apparent preoccupation with female bodies, but Stella just grinned.

‘Relax, lootenant, I'm straight. You'd look too if you had pitiful little titties like mine. Sheer envy is all it is.'

After they'd dried and dressed Stella went to read the rules, saying she needed to see ‘just exactly what it is we ain't allowed to do'. Jo rejoined Bel and they swapped experiences while waiting for Vaughan to put in an appearance. Jo came to realise just how lucky she'd been, for at least Taks had let her sleep. The four men Bel had been assigned to used her one after the other, taking it easy till their turn came around again. Though she'd had precious little rest in the ten hours she spent with them she didn't seem resentful.

‘The way I look at it,' she said, ‘these assignments are no different from any other mission. Some are cool, some pretty grim, but you don't get to pick and choose. You take whatever comes and do the best you can. That's the most anyone can expect of themselves.'

‘Stella says she enjoys it,' Jo said.

‘Stella?'

Jo pointed to her new acquaintance, standing by the notice board.

‘That's a good attitude to have,' Bel said. ‘You can survive just about anything if you convince yourself you're doing it by choice.'

‘You think it's all an act, then?'

Bel never got the chance to say, for the door opened and Sergeant Vaughan came in. Bel stood up. ‘Here's our man now,' she said. ‘I'd like you to tag along.'

‘Er… okay. Why?'

‘Contingency. Maybe cows-ready-for-milking don't do anything for him. Maybe sweet-and-innocent is more his style.'

‘Sweet and innocent?' Jo said, genuinely surprised. ‘Me?'

‘You,' Bel said. ‘Come on, honeybun; time to turn on the charm.'

 

Vaughan listened to Bel's request for information about Linda without batting an eyelid. His stoicism was laudable, given the fact that Bel was standing a lot closer than she needed to, and gazing at him from under those long dark lashes of hers.

‘You sure you want to do this?' he asked. ‘What if someone wants to know why I want to know? Reminding the admiral you exist might not be the smartest of moves.'

‘I understand that, sir,' Bel said, ‘but I need to know what's happened to her. She's our squadmate, and I think she's in trouble.'

Vaughan shrugged. ‘I suppose I can ask. What's in it for me if I do?'

‘Your sergeant's stripes, for one thing,' Bel said, flashing a big smile. ‘I promise not to tell anyone you lied about getting us new clothes.'

He nodded impassively and unclipped his belt com. ‘Vaughan here. Are the prisoners' outfits ready yet? Sixteen sets… okay, send them right up.' He put the unit back on his belt and folded his arms. ‘Seems like it's my word against yours as to when you got them.'

He glanced at Jo and winked, and that put a different slant entirely on things. ‘You got anything else to offer, Franklin?' he asked, with a straight face.