Occupied, you're in trouble

Knowing there's a horde of angry crew right behind you, both you and Melodia squeeze through the elevator doors the moment they're open more than a sliver. The six power-armored goons crammed into the large elevator are more than eager to welcome you in.

Motor assisted limbs grab you with staggering speed. You squirm with all your might but can barely manage to avoid being totally restrained. They effortlessly take your depleted pistol off your hands. Your grenade bandolier is confiscated next. The metal coated soldiers move with practiced efficiency, and brutal coordination. These guys are clearly professionals and your pussy tightens as thoughts of what they might do to you tickle down your spine.

It doesn't stop you from continuing to struggle. You're not about to be defeated in front of your ****, no matter how sexy your would-be captors are. You twist in their grip and kick high; the monolith to your right looks to have weak armor around his neck. Alas, he blocks your attack and grabs your an%le tightly, forcing you to stand awkwardly on one foot. Your situation is made all the more infuriating by the tacky knife's painted on this presumably insufferable prick's armor.

You'll take down this wannabe badass. Springing off the floor, you spin midair to scissor grapple this "Knives" guy. Sadly, the weight and rigid joints of his armor make him nearly impossible to move. And you're left with your ankles locked behind his head as you dangle to the floor.

"She's already dangling like a cute bondage slut," comments one of the other metal monoliths. Her voice was cheery and girly which would have contrasted starkly with her armor had she not tastefully painted it with pink hearts and butterflies. The tiny decorations almost look like freckles on her bulky form. "Good for lip locking the other sweet subby."

Something firm, perhaps gauntleted hands, perhaps cuffs, encircle your ankles, keeping them looked behind Knives's head. Melodia squirms valiantly in the grasp of another armored brute, this one striped with blue lightning, that he probably thought made him look cool. Lightningboi pushes your **** directly in front of you until she's nearly straddling your nose. Her pussy is thick with the stale, fruity scent from a day's worth of tease and denial.

You bite her thigh, partially to release frustration, partly as punishment for not getting wet instantly as her face is shoved into your panties. She whimpers with pleasure and a fresh aroma drifts out of her bare twat.

Suddenly, you fall. Whatever was holding your ankles gave way. Briefly, you wonder how. Maybe something Melodia did? Not that it matters. You catch your fall with a shaky handstand, then cartwheel into a wide stance.

Mind racing, you count your options. Your whip'll do shit all against these armored fucks. You still have your katana, but it's going to be tricky to draw it out in these tight quarters. You'll have to find some way to slow down these oversized tin cans. Maybe there's something you can use to gum up their armor.

Without a second thought, you tear off the tattered remains of your jumpsuit. Using the high-strength material like a net, you tangle it around your nearest foe, "Pinky." It feels weird to be barely clad in lingerie, your delicate body surrounded by these fully armored, bulky forms. But the sacrifice of your attire seems to have worked because the joints of your pink speckled target lock up. "Not again," Pinky protests as she tips and thumps against the elevator's wall.

"Look out, ma'am," pleads Melodia. You turn just in time to see the hulking form of Knives's armor lunging at you. You slither through his legs at the last second. Narrowly you avoid the fate of your orange-haired pixie. Doubtlessly worried about what her nimble hands can do, two of the brutes are locking her wrists in specialized cuffs that include steel globes to mummify her fists. That won't do at all. Only you get to chain that bitch up.

You roll into a crouch. With a soft hiss, your katana slips out of its sheath. And within half a second the blade crackles with focused energy. Knives is your first target. He's turning to face you, but slowed just enough by his armor to give you an opening. You stand, simultaneously aiming an upward slash to slice his arm from below.

But halfway through your swing the elevator starts moving. The power-armored professionals are unfazed by the rapid ascent. You and Melodia however are slammed hard onto your knees. Your ****'s captors take the opportunity to bind her ankles and pull them up to make a hogtie. There goes any hope you had of seeing her hack a terminal with her toes.

Grunting against the inertia, you swing your katana again, aiming for Knives's knee this time. A surprisingly nimble gauntlet stops you however. Your grip is twisted and your blade jammed into the elevator's floor just as you realize what's happening. "Playtime's over," a husky female voice informs you. You turn the the figure that so efficiently disarmed you. Unlike her subordinates--the "E1" emblazoned on her shoulder and her authoritative air mark her as the one in charge--her torso armor is selected to look like the chest of a naked woman. It's as if she painted her tits in just the thinnest of black latex and called it a day, but the lack of jiggle in her metallic bust gives her armored nature away.

Her next action is to crush your katana's handle with her hydraulically assisted grip, squeezing it until sparks eagerly pop from the cracked casing. You abandon the useless weapon and instead, try to grapple this squad leader. The odds are slim, but if you can somehow hold her hostage, maybe you can turn this around.

You attempt a torso takedown. slamming into her breast to breast and start running up the wall. E1 responds by tightening a titanium gauntlet around your luscious locks. You grit your teeth and spit as she yanks your hair like it's the leash of a disobedient petgirl. Your head is pulled back, but you won't go that easily. Now almost inverted, you wrap your arms around her thigh to prevent yourself from being dragged around like a ragdoll.

"That's it ma'am," Melodia grunts out as she wiggles against her bonds. "The armor's release latch should be near there."

You start feeling around for said mechanism, but you feel a powerful tug on your panties followed by a grating, ripping sound. "Gag the other whore with these," commands E1 as she tears the lingerie from your body.

"Ma'am, I think it might be--mmff." Melodia's advice is abruptly cut off as your sensual garments are **** into her mouth. She tries to moan and mumble around them, but as a recent sex-****, she isn't especially skilled at talking with her mouth full. It's a moot point anyway: the next moment you feel the torn straps of your bra being used to bind your elbows together. The power-armored squad keeps their momentum up, and a second later your face is squeezed between a jackboot and the floor while your limbs are bent into a painful hogcuff. The thick military restraints around your wrists and ankles let you only squirm a quarter inch. A spider gag, put in by E1 herself, completes your predicament. You moan and spit caustic insults out at your captors despite it. If they think they've won, just because you can't bite their ankles, you'll show them. You've almost figured out how to roll onto your tits in this strict bondage.

"Damn, that foxy bitch wiggles like an eager whore." jeers one of the armored underlings. "I can't wait to feel her squirm around my cock."

"I think we should let her sub-slut have the first fuck," counters the boss bitch, prompting a chuckling agreement from her soldiers.

A well-trained ****, Melodia protests vehemently as the large strip-on is buckled around her thigh. Your loyal submissive truly understands the vile nature of this role reversal but is helpless as the power-enhanced limbs scoop her up. You're pinned tits-up by their metal gauntlets so that they can use Melodia like the handle of a sextoy and brutishly slide her thigh-mounted dildo into you.

Despite the humiliation, you moan begrudgingly through your gag. Your loins moisten with a will of their own. "The redheaded skank is lying down on the job," accuses the pink speckled monolith, having just freed herself from your discarded clothes. "She should ride for her pleasure to prove she's a whore."

You shake your head in protest as Melodia is yanked away from you, her strap-on exiting you with a wet squelch. Giving token struggles, you are dragged to the katana embedded into the elevator's floor. Your pussy is pressed against the blunted back giving you the opportunity to masturbate your sensitive slit along its length. But with your cunt thuss occupied, how are these metal monsters going to make Melodia fuck you?

New levels of humiliation fill you, as you glance over your shoulder to see Melodia's strap-on being situated to impale your ass. You provide useless protests as a unyielding gauntlet tangled in your hair guides you into to anally treat the fake cock to some reverse cowgirl, with only a smear of pussy juice for lube. Your writhing body is pulled up and down repeatedly, your tight hole stretched with each downward thrust, and your cunt lustfully lubing up the back of your Katana.

But as humiliating as it is, things can still get worse. Apprehension grips your stomach as you see errant electricity dancing about the damaged handle. You know it will zap your poor cunt in a matter of seconds, but your weak attempts to remove your leaking twat from the smooth steel are useless against the cold hands holding your body. You try to grunt out a threat, but it just sounds pathetic through your spider-gag.

A steady buzz of electricity builds within the katana, and it assaults your tender pussy like a persistent sting. Dispute your best efforts, a weak whimper escapes your lips. You can't help it; the electrical stimulation is both painful and pleasurable. Add to it the degrading and intoxicating feeling of having your ass violated, and you are feeling some very conflicting emotions.

"Look at how that foxy bitch is panting," cackles one of your tormentors, "she's close to cumming."

You whimper and shake your head in denial. You're not that close, probably.

"Well we can't have that," chides E1. "Let's get our sabo-whore packed up and sent to Thane. J'nzon, get your night-night stick out."

You twitch at her last comment, wondering what kind of weapon they'll use to render you ****. The hiss of armor opening soon follows and you roll your eyes as J'nzon reveals his alien cook. Everyone has to name their dick, and while the pulsing, ribbed member is definitely a magnum among cocks, you've seen longer night sticks.

"You sure we gotta package them up so soon?" inquires one of the steel gorillas. "It'll be fun dragging her through the halls like this."

"Captain's orders, she's got a schedule," answers E1 coolly.

Despite her insistence that time was a factor. The power-armored boss-bitch wastes a good minute getting you into the right position. Melodia is hung inverted from a freight rack on top of the elevator. And your ass is **** onto the still sparking handle of your embedded katana, leaving the two of you stacked like hogtied mirror images, Melodia doing a headstand above you. Collars around each of your necks pull you to the wall, forcing you to arch your back until your staring at each other, your ring-gagged mouths at perfect height to be fucked. From this angle you can see your soiled panties still in Melodia's mouth, held in by her spider gag.

It doesn't stop J'nzon from ramming his undulating member into her mouth. She gurgles and her eyes bulge, but the surprisingly-skilled shaft-sucker is able to take the entirety of the alien's length. Melodia is **** to endure three power-armor-assisted thrusts from the girthy shaft before it's your turn. It feels like the ribbed cock makes it halfway down your throat on the first slam. You reflexively thrash and sputter but can do little against your strict bindings. The odd taste of alien musk is mixed with just the slightest hint of Melodia's saliva. Your panting **** continues to drool, trickling some onto your chin. The cock is crammed back into her mouth soon enough, and you're treated to the pleasing sight of watching her neck bulge.

While J'nzon alternates between fucking both of your throats, his comrades remind you of your helplessness in other ways. Metal hands paw and pinch you in intimate places leaving you gasping and squealing around the member **** into your mouths. Thankfully, about a minute is all J'nzon can last before he shoots a thick, lime-green blast of jizz into Melodia's mouth. Strings of the alien splooge dangles from her mouth and you glare a warning at her, silently ordering her to swallow, which she does her best to do. Despite not being a cum-hungry slut this early into her training, her eyes roll euphorically back as the thick fluid glides down her throat. It's really impressive how much she can slurp down considering your panties are still in her mouth, but a few drops manage to escape her gurgling and gulping, landing directly on your tongue. If you manage to get out of this you'll punish her dearly and intimately for her failure.

However, your threatening glare is lost on Melodia because her eyelids slowly droop shut. A few seconds later you feel why. Something, probably the alien cum that the two of you shared, is about to make you pass out. The room spins and your eyelids are tugged down by overpowering exhaustion, your vision clouds like your sinking into the eager tendrils of a slime monster. So that's why he calls it the night-night stick. Just as consciousness leaves you completely, you wonder what fate is in store for you now that you're a prisoner.