An ending that is only the beginning

The blues and oranges of the fungus dominated jungle zip below you. Your hover platform slows as it prepares to dock with the large observation barge. It would seem criminals always have to choose an **** place to meet, even for a simple networking event like this.

"Ma'am, before we get there, I have something to say." You pause and turn back to Melodia. You've been planning this mission for over a month; better make sure your honey pot is perfect. Her skin glitters with the flecks of gold that you massaged over her body before getting her dressed. Her clothing, what little of it there is, is made from a matchrng deep gold satin. A loop of the sensual fabric hangs from her neck, giving her the allure of a plunging neckline but only partially obscuring her amazing tits. Much smaller scraps of fabric are linked together with white gold rings to form an itsy bitsy loincloth that is just able to cover her tight pussy and hangs low off of her hips so the view from the back shows just enough of her ever so fuckable ass crack. The same metal as the rings is used to make tiny bars that dangle from her earrings and decorate the trim of her minuscule coverings. A slender chain also of white gold encircles her neck and trails down to your fist. The outfit you chose for your disguise is a bit more practical, an armored corset over an airy blouse, and booty shorts to combat the humidity.

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. She is smiling broadly but is taking a long time to say whatever it is, almost as if she is holding something back. Shackled to her left wrist with similarly lavish bindings is a long pole topped with a fan. "You're the sexiest dominatrix in the galaxy, but knowing you're about to capture some bad guys is a real turn on too. It's all I can do not to cover you in kisses when I see you kicking ass and taking bitches. I guess I'm trying to say that..." She uses her harem-girl polearm to blow a gentle breeze towards you. "I'm your #1 fan," she final says while stifling a giggle.

"Puns?" you scold, "naughty ****." You give her leash a few tugs. "Remind me to give you 20 lashes when we're back on the ship."

"Yes mistress, with pleasure." Your sex ****'s wide eyes show significantly more delight than fear. You'll have to give her some extra dungeon time to get that balance just right.

Sensing the approach of your floating taxi, a twin pronged arm targets it and generates a pulsing blue tractor beam to pull your disk in the last dozen yards. The practical machinery that dangles the observation barge's bottom like steel stalactites contrasts starkly with it's top. The open air deck is reminiscent of ancient water ships with a brass railings and a floor made from tropical hard woods in a mosaic pattern. Large drums of dark wood topped with iron braziers obscure the wells for the four hover engines. The split prow is only a few feet higher than the rest of the deck, but something about it's open design makes you feel that the view would be even better from there. Ornate chairs set around small round tables allow the barge's occupants to comfortably make business deals while watching the alien jungle from a safe distance.

There aren't many of said occupants at this time. Perhaps this meet and greet wasn't properly advertised, or maybe the remote location discouraged attendees. A Gavleth is setting up a hologram that shows a human woman writhing in a steel pillory next to a member of his own species mummified in silver tape with only her breasts and cooch free. You don't know if he is selling slaves or bondage equipment, but either way, you'll have to check back with him later. A curvy Bantam who is naked except for a waist apron with extra long strings that have been tied into a bondage harness takes the Gavleth's drink order. When she leaves the four-armed alien, gives the **** waitress a two-handed slap on her well-formed ass that makes her purple leopard spots shimmer with delight. A half dozen humans in leather armor decorated with the green patches of Acid Pitt Mercenaries talk to an Ebell. The five foot alien was of average height for the species, but all other features are buried beneath the opaque bubbles of amber glass that make up an encounter suit. As if to compensate for a short stature, two **** droids tower on either side of the mysterious alien.

You don't pay too much attention to these mingling minos because sitting at the far side of the floating lounge is Boot Licker. Oh, that isn't her really name. You found that reminding yourself how much apologizing the illusive tease was going to do once you caught her was a better way to work out your frustrations than stretching Melodia's ass with a strap-on. Not that you didn't do that too; your sex ****'s ass has needs after all. The arrogant Oo'lick had deliberately picked an especially hard to pronounce name from her race's ancient history when she started her business. Her file said she changed her name to the tongue twister so that she would add an air of mystique to the smuggling business she started with your employer's money. It must not have worked because the blue-skinned tart had gotten so far behind on her interest payments that you've been asked to track her down and "negotiate" bankruptcy terms.

The soon to be sex **** doesn't appear that **** for credits. Her silky dress is an inky scarlet. The gauze making up its short sleeves and shorter skirt is layered just enough to hide the supple blue flesh beneath. She accessorizes the outfit with a pair of thigh high boots made from shiny vinyl and a bow choker colored the same royal purple as the short bob of feathers atop her head. The choker is a good start; it's no substitute for a proper collar, so you'll have to punish her for that later, maybe with that dildo that you like to call a choker as well.

Best not to get to bogged down in counting sex slaves before they've squirted though. You still need to make this bitch submit. There's too many people here for you to slap a collar on her in the open. Most of them would probably back down once you flashed your Krubb badge, but you don't want to take the risk. Better to get her to spend some private time with Melodia.

"You are a hard Oo'lick to find," you call out while approaching Boot Licker. She dips her head in acknowledgement. "I have some transportation devices that I feel you're uniquely suited to ... make presentable."

The smuggler smirks, believing to have caught your meaning. "My subordinates can prepare legitimate documents and registration numbers," she explains, her voice crisp yet nonchalant. "I can send you a list of my prices."

"I have seen them, and while they are fair..." You walk to within 5 feet of her tugging Melodia behind you. "I was hoping you could give me a discount in exchange for a sample of the grade-A slut-meat I deliver." The corners of Boot Licker's mouth curl up in devilish delight as she eyes your scantily clad sex ****.

Melodia gives the Oo'lick some damn sexy bedroom eyes as you release her chain and un-shackle the long fan from her wrist. Let off her leash, your alluring **** leans forward and slides her tits over the table, dragging her nipples over the ornate wood just enough to get them erect and visible under their thin covering. Fully bent over the table, she grips the other side and raises her ass until her knees are on the table. With her back arched and heart-shaped booty proudly in the air, Melodia treats Boot Licker to some twerking that's vigorous enough to make her tiny loincloth flail in a dance of its own.

After that lucious display of eye candy, Melodia swings into a kneeling position. She twists her body until she is between the two of you, facing away from Boot Licker. While she sways her hips and suggestively spreads her legs, your **** makes eye contact with you and shakes her tits. That teasing little sub; you'd better make it 30 lashes when you're back on the ship.

Boob wiggle aside, Melodia focuses her efforts on the Oo'lick target. While rocking her cunt like she's fucking an imaginary cock, She sensually glides her arms up her body and reaches behind her collared neck to grab her skimpy top. The scrap of golden satin slips over her head and down the glistening chain. Once the clothing is discarded, the horny slut guides her ornate chain between her spread legs and skillfully grabs it behind her ass. Her hands twist the chain until it is wrapped tight around her wrists and nestles snuggly into her pussy and ass. Tangled in bondage of her own making, the submissive fuck-toy can do nothing but moan and slide the instrument of her predicament against the growing wet spot on her crotch curtain.

While the dance was taking place, you took the opportunity to saunter around the table and lean against the raptured Oo'lick. "She needs it you know. To be dominated, spanked, and fucked," you whisper in Boot Licker's ear. Melodia turns her body just enough that her nipple peaks past her full breast like the rising sun. Her mouth opens as she pants in wanton desire. "She needs to serve. You aren't going to deny her, or deny those poor souls in need of a fuck pet. Why don't we head back to my ship and work out the details." you add sliding your hand up Boot Licker's thigh. Now is an excellent time to confiscate her sidearm.

She places a hand on yours to stop you. "An excellent display, Natalia."

You step back shocked and clasp your hands behind your back to rest on your coiled whip. "How do you know my name?" you ask. A quick glance at your surroundings reveals that all of the barge's occupants are looking at you, many with hands on laser pistols.

"I told her," the Ebell says in a feminine voice dripping with authoritative disdain. She pops a clasp in the front of her suit and it splits to reveal a naked and strictly human chest. You stare at the pert little funbags not just because their tits; you're also a little surprised a human was able to fit in a suit designed for a much smaller alien. The mysterious woman takes off her helmet, and... Oh, it's Thane; that explains it. Also fuck, fuck, shit!

"Spit up! Get to the taxi!" you yell to Melodia while unfurling your stun whip. The obedient **** has already grabbed her fan-staff and leaps off the table while you shout. One of the Acid Pitt mercs moves to stop her. In response, Melodia thrusts her improvised weapon into the assailants left breast and follows it up with a blow to the back of the leg that puts the merc on all fours. Simultaneously, you spin to run the other direction, getting Boot Licker with a full stun lash across the thighs in the process. A terrible idea pops into your head while you sprint away, but it's the only one you got.

You vault over the barge's starboard railing. You have a plan, but that doesn't stop your stomach from jumping into your brain and reasonably arguing that this isn't just a bad idea, its probably the worst one anyone has ever had. With nothing under your feet save for a jungle canopy 2,000 feet down, you swing your whip and catch it on the railing ahead of you. Thrusting your hips for extra momentum, you sail along the ship's starboard side heading aft. At the apex of your swing you grab onto and flip over the railing with just enough aim to slam your stiletto boots into the head of an Acid Pitt goon. He goes down hard. Two plasma bolts burn past your head as you dive for cover.

From behind an over turned table, you survey the battlefield. The Acid Pitt mercs have spread tactically across the deck. Melodia is huddled behind an engine well on the far side of the barge. She is holding her own for the moment (you see an Acid Pitt grunt get a crippling blow between his legs when he tries to grab her). You doubt she can make it to the hover disks the guests arrived on however. The two **** droids have set up near that exit anyway.

Evening up the odds is your top priority right now. Keeping one eye peaking around your cover, you quickly pull out your datapad and activate a distress signal. Krubb exchange has plenty of enforcer and security ships scattered about the galaxy for situations just like this.

One of the mercs has propped up a table and is using it as a tower shield as she advances towards you. You let her get within ten feet of you. When she is just close enough, you lash your whip around her ankle and tug back. She falls on her back as with a sharp yelp before the stun energy paralyses her.

A beep from your datapad alerts you to a response from your distress call. You are excited until you see it's an automated message. "Attention Contract Worker," it reads, "we have received your distress signal. Please, deactivate it. We will contact you within the next three business days to schedule a meeting, so that you can put in a formal request for aid. Thank you for your cooperation. Your safety and satisfaction are near our top concerns."

Bitch Buggering Bureaucrats! You toss the datapad. It bounces off an umbrella stand and clocks one of the remaining Acid Pitt mercs in the head. After this is over, you'll tell Melodia you did that intentionally. Speaking of your sexy slut, she's torn some cable out from the engine and appears to be getting ready to use the sparking end like a taser. Maybe you won't need any help getting out of this.

Your moment of hubris doesn't last long. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the Gavleth moving to flank you. The towering alien carries a heavy repeater in his four hands. Scrambling to get out of his line of fire, you crawl towards another table. Several stun bolts snap over your head, but one jabs into your shoulder. Your arms stop working, and you slam face first into the wooden deck. Undeterred, you keep pushing with your legs, dragging your tits across the floor. Your ass is raised up high by your clumsy attempts to move forward. Get to cover! Get to cover! you scream at yourself. A bolt stabs you right on the butt; it burns into your anus like a hot poker and a thousand slavegirl tongues at once. You roll onto your back, grasping at the... agony? euphoria? overwhelming sensations.

And then a bolt slams into your pussy, igniting an inferno of pain and pleasure. You scream your head off, trembling uncontrollably. Wide-eyed, blackness creeps into your peripheral vision. The last thing you feel before the oblivion is climactic juices soaking your booty shorts.

Melodia's whimpering is the thing that wakes you up. It's pained and lonely and makes your heart wrench.

Your eyes sluggishly open. A persistent pain gnaws at your wrists and burrows into your shoulders. Swirling winds wail beneath your feet. You are hanging by your bound wrists, naked with the jungle below you. Panic tries to take control of your lungs, but you don't let it. A simple scaffolding crane is dangling you between the twin bows of the barge; the safety of solid wood close but out of reach of your flailing legs. You trace the rope that holds up across the beams and pulleys. The other end of your life line is held tightly by Melodia.

She has been stripped as well and stands with her ankles shackled apart. The poor girl clings desperately onto your rope, keeping you from falling while her body is seductively assaulted. Boot Licker has one of Melodia's nipples in her mouth and is administering tender attentions while Thane runs a vibrating wand across your sex ****'s supple thighs. Two of the Acid Pitt grunts tenderly caress Melodia's nude body, but the rest are nursing wounds with ice packs. The busty apron clad **** has taken up the enormous task of cleaning up after the brawl. She seems to be the only one ignoring Melodia's meek whimpers as Thane's sex toy inched it's way to your love ****'s denied pussy.

Upon hearing you stir, the bite-sized commander stops her teasing and turns to you. "Oh, our little toy finally woke up. Did you have a good nap? I know sluts like you can't get too sleep without completely soaking at least one thong."

"Thane it's so nice to see you," you snap back, "but where are your soldiers? Did the abandon you because you don't know when to give up? Or did someone just put them on a high shelf."

The lady Napoleon grabs a plate of cheese hors d'oeuvre that somehow survived the gun fight mostly intact and throws them at you while letting out a high-pitched roar.

"I think Natalia would like to hear what fate awaits her," Boot Licker says placing a soothing hand on Thane's shoulder. "With all the free time I had while hiding from you," she explains. "I came up with quite a few ways to make you suffer: tattooing your tits like a dart board, selling you to the ice miners on Argon VI, leaving you hanging by your nipples and clit on Tetrion Beta..." She gets a nostalgic look as she stares off to the horizon. "But we ultimately decided we couldn't risk you coming back to bite us in the booty, so we picked this place."

"Even if you somehow get rid of me, you blue cunt, the Krubb is going to keep sending bounty hunters up your tight ass. However, you can surrender right now, and I'll do my very best to make sure you enjoy the tit thrashing I'm going to give you!"

"Oh you haven't heard?" Thane forcefully laughs in an attempt to cover up her previous outburst. "I used some funds I had stored away to negotiate a consumer proposal between your employers and Yeenhhh," she stumbles over a name that is unpronounceable, even by the convoluted standards of Oo'lick pronunciation, "-- on my good friend's behalf." She puts a hand on Boot Licker's shoulder. "It was the least I could do with her planning such a splendid party for you."

Boot Licker pursed her cocksucker lips when Thane failed to pronounce her name, but eagerly continues to mock their shared enemy. "Considering how deep you were undercover and how expensive it would be for the Krubb to contact you, we offered to break the news to you ourselves."

Fuck, it is just like those penny-pinching corporate dicks to waste a month of your time and not even have the gonads to tell you to your face. When you get out of this... if I get out of this. You still don't know what super max dungeon they plan to lock you in. "So?" you quip with an eye roll, "is the plan to gloat me to **** before you to run off to get married?"

"Do you know why the Federation avoids this planet like it's an anaphrodisiac?" asks Boot Licker as she slithers a few steps closer to you. "It's because of that."

You follow her finger to see a large fissure splitting the jungle below. An opaque black fluid prevents you from seeing into it, but as you watch a tentacle wider than the massive jungle trees pokes its tip out of the inky mass. Smaller tentacles dot the giant appendage like hairs.

"It's called the Maw," explains Thane. "It lured the Federation here by pretending to be a civilization trying to make first contact. The last transmissions from the shuttle they sent down are classified, but rumors abound of a dungeon made from lustful slime and thorny mouths, where aliens from ages past are kept alive by tentacles **** down their throats."

As you watch the dark pit, a flash of electricity bursts through its inky liquid like lightning across a stormy sky. Amidst the clap of thunder you think you hear a chorus of wails. The lightning bolt is made all the more eerie by the clear sky above.

Boot Licker eagerly adds her own tales of the horror beneath you. "An independent scientist, human like you, made her own trip out here. She dressed in a full suit of Tungstium armor and had her crew lower her down on a cable for a ten minute peak. When they managed to pull her up two hours later, she was naked, the supposedly indestructible armor was gone, with the tow cable tied around her tits. She refused to say what she saw but begged, pleaded, and offered to do anything, if they'd give her back to the Maw."

As you look at the abyss, the massive tentacle sweeps across it's edge like a tongue licking lips, almost as if its looking back.

Thane's spiteful tone takes on a slight note of regret as she says, "I know it's a bit impersonal for vengeance and there's a risk you'll end up enjoying it, but the release mechanism should be adequately torturous."

Your attention is drawn back to the barge's deck when you hear Melodia's whimpering begin anew. Thane and Boot Licker had returned to their tender teasing. Her body strains as she struggles to ignore their tormenting touch and keep a tight grip on the rope keeping you from falling. The vibrating wand Thane wields hovers a hair's breath away from the bound ****'s glistening pussy. Your loyal **** stares at you, a painful mixture of terror and desire clearly visible across her face. "Mistress, I... I..." she struggles to tell you something.

"Sh, sh, sh," hushes Boot Licker as she tries to make eye contact with Melodia. "Natalia isn't your mistress anymore. You'd best forget about her and worry about yourself." She snaps her fingers and calls out, "Jizz Stain." The Bantam **** looks up from the puddle she was wiping up. "Be a good **** and bring me the tank."

Thane presses the vibrator hard into Melodia's cunt making her squeal. "Did you know the Syndicate has a bounty out for you?" asks the cruel captain. "A large one in fact. They'll be here for you soon." The tiny bitch yanked the wand away from Melodia's pussy. Your poor **** quivers atop buckling knees, and you jerk down two inches as she momentarily loses her grip on the rope. Thane steps back to revel in Melodia's desperation and starts digging through a trunk. "Lady Deni, the enforcer that's coming to collect you, has a reputation for not letting her slaves feel pleasure ever again, so we got you an outfit to make a good first impression." The vindictive little cunt pulls a matte black chastity bra out of a velvet case and holds it over Melodia's tits. "Oh this seems a little small for your udders. I hope it's not too uncomfortable," she adds sarcastically.

"No need to get her dressed yet," interjects Boot Licker, placing a hand on Thane's. "Deni won't be here until tomorrow. We have lots of time to turn her mind to mush."

Thane scowls, evidently not used to working with others.

The Bantam **** returned pulling a 7 foot frame supporting a ten gallon tank like a mini water tower. Inside the glass container you see a thick white substance swirled with purple streaks. A hose tipped with a dildo gag hangs from the tank that Boot Licker proceeds to **** into Melodia's mouth.

"This is Ornabeck cum. It's a powerful aphrodisiac for you humans," the blue-skinned bitch says while opening a valve. Melodia's eyes grow wide as the thick syrup is slowly **** down her throat. The vengeful mistresses return to caressing and playing with your denied ****. Having trouble concentrating slut?" Boot Licker mocks. All is silent save for the soft sounds of sucking and buzzing and Melodia moaning around the cum slowly leaking into her mouth.

So that's it then. They arouse and torment Melodia until she slips up enough to drop you to into some sort of flesh dungeon. You stare at the pit beneath you. Credit where credit is due, you have no idea how the hell you are going to get out of this. Even if you manage to escape that thing, no one actually lands on this remote planet, so you're going to have to build a hyperdrive out of twigs and shiny stones. You thrash at the hopelessness.

Dildo muffled moaning draws your thoughts back to Melodia. Maybe you can beg. Not for yourself; there's no way Thane will show you mercy, but if you debase yourself she might be **** to Melodia. Or it could leave your love **** with the memory of her mistress miserable and afraid. You could order Melodia to drop you. Then, at least, she wouldn't go to her new life burdened by the guilt of failing, and instead have an inspiring example of her mistress facing terrifying oblivion undaunted. You stare deep into her eyes hoping for some clue of what to do.

She winks.

Fuck that dirty, conniving, wonderful slut! You're going to have to make it 100 lashes now. The clever little bitch was careful; there's no way Thane or Boot Licker saw it, but you did. Your beautiful, amazing sex **** has a plan! No idea what that is, but it's better than what you got! Trying not to look to excited, you look around wondering what you're supposed to do and when.

You don't have to wonder long. Not five minutes later, the engine well Melodia had hid behind lets out a banshee scream. The next second, it's sputtering like a neglected kettle. The barge tilts, sending it's passengers scrambling, except Melodia who is anchored by her shackles. Even you are sent swinging as the crane pivots towards the dropping side. Right over the deck.

Just as you approach the deck, Melodia lets you loose. You sail through the air and hook your legs around the railing. You hang from it, and dangling down the inclined surface. There's a garish crystal sculpture bolted to the barge that you can just barely reach. As you fray your bindings, you watch the Acid Pitt soldiers tumble off the barge one by one. They activate decent control thrusters and steer themselves away from The Maw. Unfortunately for him, the Gaveleth has no such equipment and plummets into the chasm. Just before disappearing into the blackness he claps all four hands around his ass, but you highly doubt that's going to make a difference.

The barge starts to slowly right itself and you check on the remaining occupants. Melodia is safe of course. The Bantam **** has wrapped herself around a lamppost like it's a stripper pole. Boot Licker and Thane seem to be squabbling over whose fault this is while they cling to the drink cabinet. Last but far from least, Thane's two **** bots have sadly managed to stay on the barge by digging mechanical claws into the wooden floor.

You're still naked and unarmed, but luckily, an Acid Pitt supply crate (along with quite a few pieces of furniture) is wedged into the railing near you. You somersault down the mostly level deck to it. Inside you find plasma pistols and switch a pair of them to automatic. Melodia, who has been swallow aphrodisiac cum all this time, stares at you with barely controlled lust. It's time to earn your kisses.

The barge continues puttering through the air despite the chaos across its deck. Having just covered your neck in loving kisses Melodia plants them across your collar bone as her lips slowly move towards your breasts. Her pussy grinds against your right thigh, nearing its third orgasm. The Bantam **** (you haven't decided if you'll let her keep the name Jizz Stain or not) desperately licks Melodia's juices from your left thigh in an attempt to show she's worthy of being collected by you.

Both slaves have shown exception exceptional skill by administering their affections without getting in your way while you bound your two victims. Boot Licker is tied spread eagle to one of the engine wells Melodia didn't destroy. Her tight blue cunt is thrust forward by the engine's curvature, right into Thane's mouth. Your defeated nemesis is hogtied and standing on the tips of her knees with her ring-gagged mouth taped securely to Boot Licker's pussy. The chastity bra and belt look to be a much better fit on the former captain.

The burning husks of the **** mechs provide a suitable backdrop as you deliver your final gloats. "Maybe spending some quality time will help you two work better together. How long did you say it would be before the Syndicate showed up looking for a chastity ****?"

"Fuck you!" responds Boot Licker.

"No, I have slaves for that, but I appreciate the offer. Anyway, your pick up will be here tomorrow. I don't know what you're so pissy about Boot Licker. I'm sure they'll understand their only supposed to get one ****."

"My name is Yinoscian," she snarls.

"Not according to your tits," you giggle (partly because Melodia is planting tender kisses very close to your armpit). Your hand traces the helpful "My name is Boot Licker" message you wrote across her tits. You written several such messages across both of the slut's bodies. It's important the Syndicate knows that Thane is apologetic for being the whore that caused them so much trouble. You also included some helpful suggestions on where to whip them and where to stick cocks. "Anyway, Just in case the slavers are late, I'll leave you with a snack." You grab a fistful of the Bantam's wavy violet hair to get her attention. "Fetch the tank."

"You stupid bitch," scoffs the blue alien, "Oranbeck cum doesn't work on me."

"You're right. For you, it'll just be a nice gallon of cum to glug down. All of the aphrodisiac components will be filtered out and seep out your pussy." With Thane's mouth bound so tightly to Boot Licker's cunt, it's hard to even hear her enraged scream. Melodia squats and sucks your dangling nipple as you lean forward. You fingers stroke up the humiliated officer's inner thigh until they skate across the cold steel that will keep her in denial for a very long time. "You really should have quit while you were ahead."

You straighten back up. Melodia looks up at you while tenderly kissing your ribs, pure adoration in her eyes. She's saved your ass again; she's more than just the perfect love ****. You'll need to find a way to show your appreciation. Maybe a diamond ring for her clit?

While the Bantam slut straps Boot Licker in for her meal, you connect to the Krubb job board with your datapad. Krubb management may be assholes, but they're well paying assholes, and you still need money. You'll just take an easy job, something that will be fun for you and Melodia. There's a clerk that recently quit and took some stuff with her. This Kyla seems like she could be a fun hunt.

"...And so you were," you explain to your captive audience. "We persuaded the locals, braved your traps, and ultimately **** you to submit, all while taking a few walks down memory lane." Naked save for elbow gloves and high-heeled boots, you buckle the last straps of Kyla's dildo gag into place.

Your poor prisoner is suspended upside down and spread eagle. The restraints locked around her ankles give her some freedom. However, if she doesn't keep her legs spread wide enough for your liking, a rigging of wires tugs cruelly on her clamped nipples and allows the **** dildo to descend into her cunt. Out of a yearning desire to be penetrated, she subconsciously lets the bumpy phallus slip an inch deeper into her fuck hole until her tender lips graze the first of the metal bands. It's the band with the lowest charge, so her wet cunt only gets a minor shock, but it's enough to make her yip and keep her legs wide. She makes a weak plea for mercy around the shaft in her mouth.

You look down at the captive thief with the encouraging affection of a teacher. "Don't worry. This **** is just until you tell us where the rest of your loot is."

Her eyes go wide as she mumbles a protest.

"No," you gently correct her, "only half of the gems were in the safe." You turn to Melodia to confirm.

Your partner in crime is stretched invitingly across your luxurious bed. Her chosen pajamas, a fur-lined armbinder, restrains her arms seductively behind her back. The diamond ring in her cunt glitters softly in the dim light. "That's what the recording shows," the con artist smiles deviously, "some of my finest work."

The missing jewels are of course safely locked up under your bed, but you won't tell Krubb that, and after some dominatrix persuasion, neither will Kyla. Next to your draconic treasure horde, Jizz Stain is huddled up in her own little cage cabinet. Her voluptuous ass faces out and rests on the padded stocks that locks her wrists and ankles together. The buzzing dildos that plug both of her presented holes are even quieter than her gentle breathing. They have just enough power to give your slut maid teasingly pleasant dreams.

It's time to get Kyla equally horny. You dab a homemade ointment onto your gloved fingers and rub it into her upturned vulva. Her body instinctively grinds back, lured by the leash of pleasure. You idly wonder when she will give up trying to sleep in her predicament and just try to masturbate her way through the suffering. She'll slam the dildo into her harder and faster, endure increasingly crueler electric shocks to feel it deeper, and tug painfully against her clamped nipples. And it will all be in vane. The orgasm blocking ointment seeping into her clit will leave her helpless on a continually rising wave with no climax. You almost want to stay awake to watch the pitiful confusion grow to agonizing frustration, but you know every detail of her miserable night will be reflected on her exhausted expression in the morning.

"If you have trouble sleeping," you say in a sweet voice thick with poison, "you can come up with an excuse for why you lost half of your haul. Make it a good one," you coo while withdrawing your hand from her eager cunt. "If it's particularly embarassing and gives the Krubb exchange extra reason to punish you. I'll give you a pampering you never thought possible."

The poor **** mumbles defiantly through her gag. It's one last attempt to cling to her denial.

You sign and inflate her gag until her cheeks bulge and her most frustrated wails will be little more than soothing moans. "Did you really miss the moral of that bedtime story?" You strip off your gloves and boots before sliding your nude body next to Melodia's. "We've outsmarted elite bounty hunters and escaped the best laid ambushes." Your love **** moans her solidarity, and nuzzles you until her erect nipple caresses yours. "Do you really think you or those pencil pushers have a chance." You flick a switch, and the room fades to darkness with Kyla slumping in defeat like so many before. In the darkness, your hands get to work giving Melodia a goodnight orgasm.