Interlude: Irk's painful wake up call

Irk's penis hurt. A lot. Not only was there the exhausted ache of a thorough draining, there were also two unyielding bites he felt vividly on the flesh of his genitals. The agony was bearable due to a merciful numbness in the overwhelmed nerves, but a sickly echo of pain lingered from the hours of nightmarish ****.

The rotund alien groaned as he opened his eyes, expecting to be in his bed despite the immense pain. Embarrassment and anger burned in him, as he quickly discovered he was standing outside, naked and bound to one of the support posts of his house. Mentally cursing whatever punk thought this was funny, Irk strained against the cuffs locking his hands behind the pillar and the bands holding him upright. This proved to be a mistake, when the action triggered a fresh burst of pain.

"Struggle all you want slug," said Taly belligerently. Her voice was coming from the headset hooked on his right ear. "A wimpy turd like you won't be able to break free."

"We're long gone." This time it was his Oo'lick bitch speaking. Her tone brought up an image of the cruel expression she had worn last night. "But I'm going to assume you have an expression of utter shock right now." She wasn't wrong. "That pebble-sized brain probably can't understand how we could possibly want to leave your pebble-sized cock. Thanks for all the sperm, Shlenga. I'm sure that if a collected all the loads you blew on me I might have something close to a satisfying portion."

There was a pause before Taly spoke again, her voice full of malice. "Let's be clear we're not escaping. That would imply that you controlled us. No, we were just hanging around to see how much of a useless master you could be." The last sentence was accompanied by an electric shock punching through his nuts. Irk looked down to see a shock stick taped to his leg. Evidently the dumb sluts synced it to their recording.

Irk screamed angrily, and the Oo'lick spoke again. "By the way, we emptied that Syndicate expense account you had access to." She laughed. "It would be nice to see you scramble to cover that up before report day, but I think someone is going to enslave your pathetic ass before then. Just in case it takes a while for someone to teach you how much of a worthless lump you are here are some things you should know: A good master gives his **** cum to eat daily." The shock stick activated again and stayed on while she continued. "Do you know how many times I had to sneak of to the neighbors to get some." Irk was now desperately thrashing in spite of the shocks; not only was he being tortured by his own slaves, but they had cuckold him too.

Irk got a second to catch his breath before there was another electric stab through his precious jewels while Taly said, "And why, of all the limp-dicked ideas, did you outsource my training! Beside that being the best part for both the master and ****, I'm one of the primmest pieces of ass you've ever seen. I deserve your full attention."

The shocks stopped and Irk began to recover. He started testing the straps holding him, only to feel the shock stick activate again. As he writhed against his bonds, the whore of an Oo'lick chided "oh and if your slaves are the only ones that will listen to your crackpot theories, they have to be pretty stupid. Seriously, the first time you lectured me about that supposed FTL asteroid base I thought you were punishing me." Irk was whimpering when the testicular **** finally stopped.

Irk was more confused than infuriated by the last comment. Why, the last time he explained how ruthenium-chlorinate crystals in a pentagonal lattice could make such a thing possible, her eyes glazed over and she started playing with herself. No, Irk realized he wasn't confused she was. The Oo'lick wasn't an intellectual like him, some influence must have corrupted her poor little brain.

Irk heard a quiet click. Then the shocks started again, but with twice the intensity. The gas bag slammed against the pillar and gargled in agony. It felt like his balls were being crushed between two lightning bolts. He was only aware of Taly speaking because of her authoritative tone. "Yeah, this toy has a level two you fat oaf. While you pole dance for us, I want you to think about how your not in strappado, because there are other bondage positions you shit-breathed idiot. You know what the real **** was? The god damned monotony. Every fucking day the same fucking bullshit. Without the fucking! Do you know how shitty it is to be a sex **** without the sex? A inactivated sybian has more life than you. At least it wouldn't whine like a bitch and tell me to not rub so much!" She was almost screaming at the end of her rant and was catching her breath while the electricity continued to stab Irks nuts.

Irk froze when the shocks finally stopped. He felt as if that the slightest movement would somehow cause more **** from the recording. However, the twin clamps were still mercilessly digging into the soft flesh of his penis, so he eventually started struggling against his bonds again.

This did little good. So the sex slaves knew a bit about tying someone up, Irk thought, but the stupid sluts still left me my communicator. The gas bag felt a swell of pride at how quickly he had found a flaw in their plan. He just needed to call someone to get him out of this bind. "Communicator," Irk said clearly, activating the headset's voice commands. "Contact Zell-Ac."

"Affirmative," responded the electronic voice, "contacting anal boytoy pick up services."

"Cancel! Cancel!" Irk pleaded.

"Affirmative, who would you like to contact?"

Irk decided to try his boss; things would get awkward, but could be worse. "Dex Rlap."

"I'm sorry," chimed the headset, "I could not complete your call to 'I'm a wuss gas bag that needs a **** dominatrix.'"

Irk snarled with frustration. Those rebellious whores had messed with his voice commands. it would take him days to undue. They needed to be punished severely. He was going to track them down and put them in strappado for ... like a really long time. A really tight strappado. Yeah, that'll show them. And then he'd put them back in the **** box until they treated him with the respect he was entitled to.

The **** box, that was the key, Irk realized. They had that advertising a while back about crack bounty hunters that could retrieve slaves in need of training. And the last personal call Irk received had been a week and a half ago when the **** box administration informing him that Taly was ready to pick up.

"Communicator," Irk mumbled a little nervous his slaves had been able to change every command, "return call."

Much to his relief, Irk was able to contact the **** box but was put on hold. Grumbling, he stood strapped to the pole, listening to what was probably a moaning sex ****, but the recording had been compressed so many times it sounded like a Ragar disruptor canon. Like any good business, the Syndicate knew that the key to good customer service was to get the customer to hang up well before they ever actually talked to anyone with authority. "Oh yes, master or mistress," the aroused and eager voice of a woman eventually filled his ear. "My name is Bitch Britney," she continued with her scripted greeting, "And I am so pleased to be contacted by an estimated individual such as yourself."

Irk's mood brightened; finally the respect he deserved. Briefly, he wondered how the call **** knew she was speaking to someone important enough to manage an entire automated supply base, but he quickly realized she must have caller ID. "Yes," he responded, naturally adopting an aristocratic accent, "I'm having a problem."

"Oh no, I am sorry to hear that. I take full responsibility for your circumstance and will be extensively flogged." Bitch Britney's voice was strangely bubbly for someone about to be punished, almost as if she thought she wouldn't.

"My slaves are disobeying," Irk grumbled, the clamps perpetually pinching his pecker kept him from being happy for long.

"That is terrible." Britney's eager attitude was unfazed by Irk's tone. "But good news, in most cases, you can fix this yourself. Did you try getting them unaroused and turning them back on?"

"I can't," snapped Irk. "They escaped. Get those bounty hunters after them."

"Huh?" The soda pop tone was quickly replaced with confusion. "Do you mean the chain-gang-bangers? Is this a pitch for an episode? I don't think they're looking for that. They're already filming some excursions actually; I heard they'll be crashing that Tooligan princess's royal banquet. Something about a horde of dildo-armed scamper drones."

"Listen Bitch," Irk sputtered, try to get the **** back to more important subjects. "The ****-box guarantees perfect slaves. My Taly escaped. You need to get her back and make this right. You can start by sending someone to untie me!"

"Oh, the ****-box guarantee," Britney's voice was back to being unbearably cheerful. "I know the response to this because we went over it at the last staff meeting..." she sounded distant while trying to recall. "Let's see it was after those boring statistics, so my tongue was half way up Tina's ass... then we had to put on those cute little tit-zappers to help us pay attention... and master was really ramming my pussy... he said to tell the stupid customers." Irk could hear wet sounds as the **** re-enacted the staff meeting. "Mr. Sir," Britney sounded like she was beaming with pride, "I am sorry to inform you that the ****-box trains perfect slaves and that whatever caused your **** to disobey must have been your fault, thus voiding the guarantee."

"What!" Irk bellowed. "That can't be legal! The Syndicate's management will hear about your scam," he threatened, genuinely confident the crime lords would be upset with their own organizations shady activities. "I aught to put you in strappado for your rudeness."

"Mmm, yes sir," moaned the horny slut. "I'd be completely at your mercy. You could easily spank me or punish my tits. Can you do that thing where the whip wraps around the whole tit?"

"How is that supposed to get that red-headed bitch back and that blue-skinned whore?"

"Oh, are you still worried about them?" Asked Bitch Britney surprised. "Um we have this service that can find lost fuckpets. You will have to pay for the treats they use as well as the hourly rate."

"Fine you can charge it to my account."

"Oh good! If you'll just give me the account number, we'll have those naughty slaves ready for you to punish right away." She almost sounded jealous.

"Well I don't have it with me, do I you stupid cunt."

"Oh yes sir, that is right. I am a stupid cunt. So stupid that I don't know your account number. I'll have my master punish me for that later." Her excitement just keeps going. "I hope he has me straddle a wooden hoarse while he ass fucks me. Last time, almost all of his weight was on me. I don't remember anything other than the feeling of the wedge grinding into my clit, but I'm sure I learned a lot."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?

"Kerrrzzz," said Britney, "I'm sorry, click ck, there is some interference on the, chaaassss. Please call us back."

The line went dead before the gas bag could respond. Now I have to contend with technical difficulties? Could this day get any worse? If his hands were free, he'd have thrown the headset across the street. Instead, he screamed like a boiling teapot, emptying his gastrol sacs for further volume.

As Irk struggled to refill himself. The sun began mounting the horizon. It's glare, hardly diminished by Gren's dust storms, further added to his discomfort. Huffing, the bound thug prepared to redial and hopefully get someone more competent.

"Meow?"

The primitive sound came from the sun's side of the street. A human clad in nipple-tight, black latex curiously crawled towards Irk. Large padded mittens encased her hands with similar feet tipping the knees of her frogtied legs. Her head was surrounded in a harness complete with animal ears and snout gag.

"Go away," was Irk's response to his possible rescuer.

"Meow?" The inquisitive sound came from speakers on her snout. In the next instant, a large net flew onto the kinky creature.

Each connection between the net's cords was a vibrator capable of delivering tiny shocks whenever the victim struggled. Which was probably why she kept squirming until her thinly covered boobs squeezed through holes, three of the electric beads were nestled to her camel toe and the rest of her body was thoroughly entangled.

The net's wielder was blocked from Irk's view by the aero-cars parked along the street, but she spoke while approaching. "Only 20 minutes. I know you like getting caught, but--" The woman gave a quick double take when she stepped into view and saw the bound gas bag. She was slender and athletic with olive skin. Dressed for a morning run, the mistress wore short shorts and a tight tank top. "Oh? you found something."

It took Irk a moment to recognize her because the dirty blonde that normally cascaded in waves down her shoulders was now in a high ponytail. But Irk soon identified her as a brash pilot that had been uncooperative in the past. With the frustration of his awful morning, he was in no mood for her shit. "Alright Cassie," Irk growled, "here's how-- ahhhhhh."

Cassie only tolerated the gas bag for a moment before snapping into action. Quicker than Irk could see, she whipped out a baton and struck one of the clamps clinging to his ultra sensitive dick wrinkles. His chode was already inflamed from cumming twice the day before and spending a night with the pitiless pincers. Thus, it was white hot pain unlike anything he'd felt before that burned through Irk's body as the jiggling clamp tugged his **** flesh in ways it wasn't meant to. Stars filled Irk's vision as he screamed in a pitch so high it gained altitude. But this too was soon silenced when Cassie snapped her baton to Irk's jaw, forcing his mouth shut.

"I don't remember saying you could speak Shitstack. Or scream." With one hand, the cruel woman started slowly twisting the other clamp, reminding Irk there was another untapped well of pain waiting to burst. "Make any noise louder than that pathetic mewling you're doing right now, and I'll make you forget this little stump between your legs can give you pleasure."

Pinned as he was, Irk couldn't even nod, but Cassie was satisfied with her threat and removed the baton from her mouth. A moment passed in which the only sound was Irks whimpering and the catgirl's moans.

Cassie turned to the squirming ****, saying "quit playing around Puss, and help me decide what to do with this thing." As ordered, the kinky kitten quickly untangled herself, while her mistress explained "this is the scum that refused to sell me fuel if I didn't give into his demands."

"Nh-Mow!" exclaimed the latexed **** as she bounded up.

"Yeah that one. I mean, I'll trade a favor for a good deal; you saw what I did to get you for a discount." The catgirl rubbed against her mistress's long legs and purred. "But pretending to be someone's girlfriend is just weird. Any ideas for what to do with this freak?"

"Meow mh?"

"No, he's too ugly to be a sissy maid."

"Rrr, mew?"

With her baton, Cassie gave a gentle yet corrective tap to her slaves shiny ass. "I keep telling you we are saving that spiked cage for someone we respect. It was expensive, and can't ever be taken off. Plus, I think its too big for his itty-bitty cock anyways. We could just leave him here, see what the next person comes up with."

The **** moaned and rubbed her cheek against her mistress's inner thigh.

"Are you sure? I mean who would want the stuff?"

More mewing and some tentative crotch nuzzling was the ponderous response.

"Yes, that's right." Realization filled Cassie's face. "Niche market, hard to produce because of their low metabolism and weak testicles. Gas bag cum must be pretty valuable." Devious glee caused a wide grin to split her face. "Yeah, we'll have to experiment, establish a baseline then try new things; electro-stimulation, long periods of tease and denial, anal milking, **** feeding..."

While Cassie listed the terrifying possibilities with stars in her eyes, her fuckpet started sniffing the gas bag's abused penis. Puss then dug the claws of one kitten mitten into Irks rubbery chest. She pulled herself up and started scratching at his nipple with her free hand-paw, while shaking the tail attached to her buttplug and moaning.

"Twice? Just last night?" inquired Cassie, disappointed. "Well I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow to start the fun. Now get down from there. You don't know where it's been."

Puss obeyed, and Cassie stepped forward until she was an inch from of Irk's face. Without looking, she tapped the button on the testicular shock stick with her baton. Irk let out short, rapid huffs as the electricity briefly tormented his tender nerves.

"You remembered not to scream, good boy." Cassie's flashed a wicked smile. "Now, while we wait to see who's first to loot you're place, we are going to punish you're tiny dick for all those wasteful little spunks it's had. Would you like me to gag you?"