Trust her

"Please Master, Shock her again," the Oo'lick says, flicking the clamps ruthlessly biting your pussy lips. Her eyes sparkle with evil delight. "She deserves far worse."

As ordered, Irk pokes your belly with the shock stick. Your stomach flexes and you release rapid grunts around your mouth-cramming pear gag. The Oo'lick grins sadistically at your punishment.

The life of a Sirius sex **** fits her like a gimp suit. While assuming the role of alpha ****, she looks down at you with a cruelty you rarely see in her but secretly crave. Your current position must have been her suggestion because it's well executed and not a strappado. It makes you feel like a beautiful butterfly. A butterfly in pain but a butterfly nonetheless.

You hang upside-down on the wall. Not just spread-eagle, no that would be too vanilla for the blue-skinned sex-tyrant. To add to your discomfort, she had cuffed each knee to an elbow before pinning your ankles and wrists to the wall. Or as close to it as they could get. You're flexible, but doing the splits while squatting is not humanly possible. Your limbs are twisted in an unnatural, painful, and very erotic way.

She also took the initiative to change her outfit. Now it is a sexy bra and thong combo made from straps and mesh, offering delectable glimpses of her nipples and slit.

"May I try master? Her offense was also against me." You don't think that makes sense but are in no position to protest. And Irk is far too horny to think clearly. He hands her the shock stick. Her hand leaves his straining hard-on, but is replaced by her perfect ass when she bends forward to work on you. The blue beauty grinds against his hard nub while she milks and gropes your tit with her free hand. The tip of her punishment toy crackles inches from your nipple, making you squirm. The BDSM goddess is a true mistress of her craft. Your eyes lock onto hers and silently beg for the electric kiss. When it finally radiates through your sensitive nub, you shut your eyes and scream into your gag. The cruel bitch's **** leaves you panting with drool leaking around your gag and dripping down your face.

When you open your eyes again, the Oo'lick is on her knees, looking up at Irk and stroking his hill-cock. "How shall we punish her next? Her tits need more pain. I know some artistic breast bondage that I think you'll like." She licks his tip and he groans approval. "Shall we hang her by them? Or we could put the bitch in strappado and hang weights from her jugs." There are wet sucking sounds and Irk grunts a few times. "A strappado would leave her cunt ripe for flogging. And then you could shock her pussy while I fuck her ass." You see her head lower as she licks his taint. "Is my master close to cumming?" she coos. His growl sounds like a yes. "Please sir, give me your gift." She strokes faster and harder. "Spray it all over my face." Irk mumbles and moans, shooting his limited load onto her forehead. The Oo'lick lets out a sigh that Irk probably took as contentment.

You look past them. The dinner is still splattered across the floor where you 'accidentally' dropped it. If your **** partner hadn't taken the initiative to get diner from a nearby Snak-Rak, Irk would have had nothing to eat. She is surprisingly clever; when you suggested using poison on Irk, she had rightly noted that anything strong enough to get past his unusual digestive system would be far too risky to get. As she pointed out however, an aphrodisiac can be bought at any convenience store, even Snak-Raks.

"Oh, my handsome master is getting hard again," she soothes helping the orgasm-exhausted Irk to his bedroom. "I think I'll be lucky enough to get a round 2." She smiles back at you before disappearing.

Her succubus cries of passion stifle any protests Irk might have. You hear furniture knocking against the wall and the Oo'lick squeal a song of pleasure. The blue beauty quietly steps out of the room after a few minutes.

"He'll be out for a few hours, but we should still be quiet." She gingerly walks towards you until she is close enough to 69. "That got a bit rougher than we planned." Your blue angel gently takes the clamps off of your pussy, but blood rushing in to reactivated pained nerves makes you whimper. "Let me make it up to you." She presses her supple body against yours and plants soft kisses onto your aching pussy, then tenderly licks between your inflamed folds. Still gagged, you can't return her love but manage to work your nose into her sex. Your nostrils fill with her sweet smell. Stepping back she looks down and asks, "are we cool?" Cool is not how you would describe your current state, but you nod.

She releases and helps you down. With silent efficiency, the two of you prepare to leave. She collects the uniform and transport ignition codes she suggested Irk bring home for roleplay. You gather up the Titani diamonds that you purchased with your own hidden funds and money embezzled on Irk's behalf. He's going to be popular in the Syndicate when they find out. Exchange rates are a bitch for the sparkling cyan gems, but they are accepted everywhere and impossible to trace. Together, you prepare Irk's surprise, speaking only when necessary. You lament you couldn't do more but taste sweet **** when you attach clamps to his extra sensitive dick-folds the ****-box warned you about. Killing him would **** the Syndicate to put a massive bounty on your heads to protect their rep. In place, a little public humiliation would give the kinky organization someone else to make an example of.

To make up for punishing you, the Oo'lick quietly suggests you wear the uniform and she the collar while you sneak to the landing field. The sight of an approaching security guard made you pull you're fellow escapee into an alcove for an improvised make-out session. You kissed the handcuffed alien deeply so the guard couldn't see your face, even sneaking a finger passed her thong before the guard walked off.

Unfortunately, such subterfuge was only necessary once. You consider dragging her into a steamy hiding place a few more times but don't know how she feels about you (what scarce moments you had to talk to her were used to plan this escape). And you don't want to alienate your only ally.

Within the hour, you successfully launch a small cargo transport. When you're out of range of the patrol fighters, you both start talking normally and you take the opportunity to ask the Oo'lick's name.

Five minutes later you are still learning how to pronounce it. "Letitessajh," you try for the twentieth time.

"Ltea,tessaJh," she corrects, patiently.

"Ltea,tessaJh," you repeat, but she shakes her head.

"Longer on the second pause," she corrects, " Lteetess agh." A part of you thinks she is saying something new each time.

You try again. "Lteetess ah?"

"That's too long and your not pronouncing the zhyl high enough. Like this: LteY-tess-ejh," she enunciates.

"LteY-tess-ejh," you again say exactly what you hear, but her smile tells you your still not getting in. "Why don't I just call you Tess?" you suggest, suspecting there are just sounds you can't hear.

Her smile grows warmer. "That will be fine. And you are Taly?"

"Natalia," you correct her. Any annoyance you felt for being called that name quickly disappears. You can't get upset at someone dressed so sexily. While you flew the cargo ship to a jump point, she dug through the various packages awaiting delivery in the cargo hold. Tess had come back looking cute and exquisite in the same moment.

Before today, you wouldn't have considered such a loose fitting sweater particularly drool worthy. However, the baggy garment clings to her perfect figure just enough to tantalize your imagination. Moreover, the question of her underwear tingles in the back of your mind. You can see enough of her shoulders to know she isn't wearing her previous bra.

"So Natalia, we're off to meet the Hack Crew. Chop shops are usually loyal to the highest bidder. Can we trust them?" The wide neck of her oversized sweater falls off one shoulder. If she is wearing a bra, its strapless. Could she have found a corset?

"For the most part. Their leader, Kurt Lunis, has this backwards code that's against slavery. They won't give us to the Syndicate. And if pay them, they'll give us good ships."

"Why hasn't the Syndicate shut them down?"

"They can't. It's nearly impossible to track someone in that icy nebula, that's the trouble with building bases near all the best smuggling routes. The Hack Crew works out of a gutted generation ship too, so they can reposition whenever they want. Furthermore, they communicate through a network made with a million randomly dispersed nodes, making it easier to find a Nelka's fertility tentacle wearing a blindfold and ****-mittens then trace their communications." Tess giggles musically at the metaphor. The sweater tumbles off the other shoulder and for the briefest moment you wish the two orbs bouncing as she laughs were smaller so her top could fall the rest of the way. "I think the Syndicate gave up trying, not wanting to advertise a way for slaves to escape."

Tess shrugged, "Or they wanted a back door for untrainable slaves to quietly sneak out."

"Yeah" you agree, not quite paying attention. It's disturbing how much power this beauty has over you. If you had met someone this sexy in the past, the day would have ended with her naked and hogtied on the dungeon floor, lady jizz drying across her face and between her thighs. But now half of your mind just wants to beg to see this blue goddess naked one last time before you part ways. Has my time as a syndicate **** really had that much of an effect on my kinks? You may have to find a new line of work if your submissive side is going to be this prominent. The possibility of resuming your life as a bounty hunter seems even less likely when you consider what being captured by the likes of Irk did to your reputation.

"Have you dealt with them before?" asks Tess drawing your attention back to the present problems.

"Yes, but only when I was trying to track down some escaped slaves."

Tess frowned. It was a beautiful pouty-lip frown. "Maybe I should do the talking."

Realizing you should have thought of that, you nod. "Giving them this ship will get us some credit, but it will still cost most of our funds to get two ships." She hasn't told her plans after escaping. You obviously want her to stay with you. Now would be an opprotune time to seductively suggest she travel with you, but the perfect line flails in your throat like a mummified Alerian dancer. Instead, you manage to say "You should say we have only have 30 diamonds so they won't try gouge us."

"We only need one ship. Piloting isn't one of the things I'm good at," she says crossing her arms casually. This has the effect of pulling her sweater tight against her full rack. Your heart races as you catch the hint of her nipples through the fabric. No bra. Is she topless underneath or wearing some sort of quarter-cup corset? You don't know which would be sexier. "Can I fly with you?"

You close your mouth and nod. She sounds hesitant, maybe nervous or working up the courage to say something. Are you staring too much? Maybe she is daunted by the scope of the galaxy. Going from measuring your freedom in inches to lightyears is often a shook. Whatever, you're just glad that you'll have enough time to make your move, once you figure out what kind of move it will be. "Yeah, I'll help you get settled in wherever you want. I owe you that." Honestly, I'll agree to whatever you wanted right now. You manage to tear your gaze from her perfect tits but you caught an eyeful of her smooth-as-a-cloudless-sky thighs. Those legs could be the heavens you look up at, your blue horizon of inspiration.

Tess is about to respond but is cut off by the holo-terminal snapping to life. "Natalia, what does the laziest bounty hunter in the galaxy want?" grumbles the stubble-faced head on the display.

You prepare some biting comeback about the shape of his head. Luckily, Tess speaks first. "Mr. Lunis," she says with the tone of an expert receptionist, "we are simply interested in purchasing a new vessel. Is it possible to dock for a discussion?"

"Last discussion I had with Natalia ended with her kicking me in the nuts an' saying I was lucky she didn't bring the prod she uses on stubborn cattle."

Tess gives you the "what did you get me into?" look, with a slight dash of pride. To be fair, at the time he was refusing to break his silly code for an exceptional sum of money. It had taken you twice as long to track down his former lieutenant. Not that your upset anymore. You had vented your frustrations out on the lieutenant's poor balls when you finally caught him.

"Natalia is very sorry," Tess apologizes for you. "When we speak in person, expect an extensive apology." Tilting her head forward yet maintaining eye contact, she licks her cock-sucker lips and adds in a smooth, impossibly professional tone "from both of us."

Mr. Lunis sends meeting coordinates soon after that. You're a little dumbfounded by Tess brazenness, especially when she strips her sweater off, saying "you should change too. That Syndicate officer look won't make a good impression with these people." Wearing only a comfy pair of white cotton panties and making no attempt to conceal her recently exposed blue globes, she beckons you saying, "we can help eachother find something that fits."

Her perfect ass sways as you trail behind like a loyal puppy. The thin, white fabric clinging to her round butt has "rip me off" written across it in bright pink. And you really wish you were brave enough to follow instructions.

You like to think your hesitation is because it isn't a good idea to show up at an anti-slaver base with a **** locked up in your hold. But you know that wouldn't stop the old you.