A New Day

Any envy you held for Bellextra's new play thing quickly evaporates after the cabin's air filters remove all traces of Hellno atmosphere. Without the invigorating and arousing spores of this planet, the past two days catch up to you almost instantly. It's like switching from a two day bender to the resulting hangover without the benefit of any sleep in between. You never want to see another cock again. At the time of liftoff your pussy was a river of sexual fluids. Within five minute it becomes dry and raw. All the cumulative pain from all the stretching your ass took hits you at five hundred miles per hour. Sitting down on your much abused rump is too much and you to attempt to pilot the shuttle back to the Breaker standing up. This proves to be a mistake. Last night you fell asleep with your feet spread and your hands tied above your head after a **** march and painful bondage. Your everything screams in agony.

It takes you over an hour of flight to find the Breaker, and it’s not helped by you continually nodding off. The handheld sensor that mapped your path swims in and out of focus and there is a disturbing disconnect between where you think your taking the shuttle, and where the readouts say your taking the shuttle. All the while the lights of Hellno glare painfully at you. It's like someone is shoving icicles into your brain through the space between your eyelids and your eyes. You aimlessly circle until you finally relocate the landing site. Rather than a controlled descent, the shuttle comes in hard and fast, sheering off the tops of a few trees and plowing into the dirt beside the Breaker. On wobbly legs, you exit the shuttle.

As soon as you step outside, blaster fire greets you. “Get on the fucking ground you dickless sons of bitches! I swear to god I will castrate each and every one of you and then strap you to the engines so your incinerated on take off!” You are too tired to contemplate the impossibility of that threat.

The opening salvo left you face down and ass up in the dirt. Prone and naked, you try to raise your head. “Huuuuunnnnnhhh… Melodia?”

It takes her half a second to recognize you. “Oh gods, Natalia.” She throws down the rifle and rushes towards you. This time, she’s acquired mechanics coveralls, which she’s left open to the waist, revealing a stained tank top that is three sizes too small. Her smooth midriff is on display and her cleavage is begging you to plunge your face in. It’s agonizingly sexy. That is not hyperbole. Arousal is causing you physical pain. “What happened?”

The past two days flash before your eyes before your brain shuts that shit down. Instead of telling the story, you just say, “I found out why they call it Hell No. Now get me inside. We’re getting out of here.”

Too distressed by her mistress’s clear despondence to question, Melodia shuts up and takes you inside. Rather than follow your orders and take you to the bridge, she wisely tucks you into bed. She saw what happened to the last ship you flew after all. There is a brief effort on your part to yell at her, to assert your role as the domme, but you pass into a dreamless slumber mid sentence.

You awaken with a parched throat. Fortunately, Melodia thoughtfully left a glass of water there for you. And a **** girl. Alexa stands by your bed wearing a hood with no opening except for at the nostrils, ballet boots and a corset. Her hands have been cuffed behind her and a chain runs from the top of her hood to the ceiling. Nipple chains support the tray that hold the glass, along with a dildo, a flogger, and most importantly, aspirin. Never in your life have you received a more touching gift. It’s a shame you have to vomit before you can enjoy it. After your headlong rush to the restroom and five minutes of agonized retching, you take the aspirin and down the water in one unending gulp. You stare at the bound Asian; nipple clamps pull dark, pert nipples and fun-sized titties towards the tray they support. Long legs stretch up from the black footwear to a pussy that is clean shaven and dripping. You can smell her arousal. Being **** to wait for a deserving mistress to claim, torment and reward her has clearly driven her mad. Heavy breaths make their way around a gagged mouth. Based on the mumbled moans she is making, you assume there is a penis gag stuffed between her lips. She is a testament to Melodia's unforeseen ability to train a sub. The smell of pussy juice makes you run to the bathroom one more time. When you come back from the toilet you take one more look at the mute Alexa. “Not today.” Stumbling out of the room, you leave the toys untouched. Sleeping was good, getting off planet will be better.

Melodia meets you in the bridge as you make your pre-flight checks. “Hey,” she says from the doorway. She wears her collar and smart cuffs, nothing else. You take one glance at her before trying for the third time to prime the fuel pumps. “How you feeling?”

“So good.” You fuck up the sequence again. “I had a shit load of fun out there. That’s why I hurt everywhere.” She reaches over you and inputs the correct sequence for you. “Thanks,” you say, feeling defeated.

She puts a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“Mother of all the gods, no it’s not! We’ve spent how long chasing this? How many times could this have ended with us both being mindless fuck sluts, huh? And what do we have to show for it? Nothing. Not a gods damned thing.” Somewhere in that rant you stood up. When Melodia’s only response to your rant is to stare back at you with confusion, you get even angrier. Forgetting how hard bulkheads are, you punch the wall. “FUCK!!!!” Now you hurt even more.

She completes the pre-flight checks while you fume. Eventually you just slump into the chair. Without asking for permission, she sits in your lap and curls up against you. “We’re getting out of here. That’s enough for now.” Every grey cell in your head wants to argue with that but can’t think of a counterpoint. Getting out of here does seem pretty nice. Not knowing what else to do, you wrap your arms around her and rest your head against hers.

After a few minutes you have her get up. “Start the engines. I’m going to take care of one last thing and then I’ll be right back.” Stopping only to grab a rebreather, you step out onto Hellno for one last time. Strangely, it has stopped raining, and the void black sky has brightened to a refreshing grey. Unsteady but motivated strides carry you to the **** shuttle where you program the computer to take off and just fly away. It doesn’t really matter which direction; you pick a vector at random. As the engines thrum, you jump down the ladder and watch the only way off the surface of Hellno that isn't the Breaker fly away. You don’t know if Malicous Mal is on the planet, but you like to think so.

Melodia is in the co-pilot's seat, waiting to be strapped in. Instead you have her return to your lap. The two of you lift off the Breaker together. As the Breaker crests the canopies, the sun comes out. It’s like when someone opens a window to let cool air into a stuffy room. Sun rays slice through the clouds and then push them aside. Before you stretches a canopy that you couldn’t have imagined calling beautiful while you were trudging beneath, but now, with Melodia in your lap and your labors behind you, takes your breath away. Sure there are still storm clouds in the distance. There will always be a few of those on the horizon. But for now, it is clear.Your give Melodia's a squeeze and she nuzzles closer into you. When you feel her breath on your skin, it feels better than all the sex you've had over the past few days. Well, maybe not Bellextra's sweet dick.

It’s unfortunate that Hellno is such a hassle. The view really is stunning. An ever shifting field of colors stretches before you. Far to the west is a river that flows into an crystal green ocean. And to the east is its geographic opposite. A single mountain rises above the forest. Sharp edges shoot straight up like a crown, signalling to the very sky the supremacy of the earth. Between them, the massive trees ripple from one color to the next under a sky you never knew could be so blue. Birds, or whatever their native equivalent is, flap through an uncharacteristically dry sky.

It’s so clear you can even see the **** shuttle. It sails lazily through the sky, seeming sluggish from your distant vantage point. It’s headed towards the mountain. Straight towards it, actually. Some would describe it as dead on. It’s going, it’s going, it… crashes right into a cliff. A contented sigh leaves your lips as you fly away.