It's just how your day is going

You're idly grinding the crotch rope when you first hear them. They make as much noise as a voco beast so that their trudging and whining can be heard even before they crest the ridge you climbed on your way in. Frantically you make one last escape attempt. Dammit! Why did Bellextra have to be so good at this? But its no use. You know your fate is sealed when the first pirate whoops for joy. You try and push yourself into the tree, hoping to just blend in, but the crotch-rope keeps your pelvis pronounced and prominent. As they approach, their success driven euphoria plunges you deeper into failure ridden depression. Maybe if you stay very still, they won’t see you.

“Hey, over here!” Yeah, you didn’t think it would actually work.

“Son of a bitch! That’s her isn’t it?” Mud slurps and shrubs crack as they surround you. You do your best to shrink away into nothing. Jeers cut into you far more brutally than the whip did. Genuine terror gushes from your chest.

“Bounty hunter. Thank you for reminding me why I hate your kind so much. Let me look at you.” A hard, cold weight takes your head and sevros whine as a mechanical hand rips the hood off your head. Adding injury to insult, the cybernetic hood’s security system is triggered, delivering painful parting shots as you are violently returned to a world with sight.

Before you stands the dreaded golden power armor, but it’s battle with Bellextra, much like your own encounter with the red queen, has stripped away the luster. Damn near the whole thing is scorched, battered and dented. What little gilding remains only serves to remind you of past beauty. In more than a few spots, the underlying machinery can be seen pumping away at artificial muscles. Absent is the power maul and the arm that held it. In it's place, a skeletal armature supports a heavy repeater so massive it needed to be bolted onto the replacement. The bleak utilitarian shape of the cannon contrasts starkly with the rest of the suit, clearly a last minute Gerry-rig.

“Did she tear off your arm and beat you with it? She does that.”

The suit splits open and Mal steps out. He is indeed missing his artificial arm. Apparently there was no time to find a replacement for that. Or maybe there was no need. It seems like he doesn’t need it to operate the suit. “Where is she? I’m looking forward to beating her to ****, but I think I’d like to do it with your arm.”

“She popped out to get cigs. She’ll be back in a minute if you just want to wait for her.” Why am I antagonizing him? Again? Once more he has forgone his shirt and even shoes, wearing only ragged pants revealing muscle and scar tissue.

“Cute.” He only needs the one hand to punch your stretched out gut. “I really hate cute. I hurt it. Where is she.”

“Come on man," you say around coughs. "Where do you think? She’s somewhere in that thing. Do you really think she left me like this and told me where she could be reached? Fuck!” He slaps your tit to the side.

“Then I guess you're useless to me.” He pulls out a knife and traces the tip down the side of your chest. “I want to hurt you. It would make me very happy to do so. But if I start, I’m going to want to take my time and I don’t have a lot of that right now.” He stabs the knife into the tree right below your cunt and then surveys the area. “Sergeant Ganner, take half the men and set up camp here. Once I have my prize, I’m going to want somewhere comfortable to enjoy ruining this piece of meat. When you’re done and patrols are set up you can play with the prisoner.”

For the first time since the hood was removed you notice the rest of your tormentors. Crowded into a rough semi-circle around the tree are more pirates than you want to deal with at the moment. Captain Mal has mounted quite the expedition here. There must be at least two dozen pirates here, and more besides are scattered throughout the crash site. Many of the are overseeing the scrambled slaves who are yoked to antigrav sleds loaded with gear. The excessive restraints lashing the pitiful souls are clearly cosmetic. The blank eyed men and women wouldn't go anywhere if they could.

“What about Tamra, captain?” kneeling in the back of the group, a dejected looking Tamra perks up hopeful and terrified. She is still bound in the same manner you left her in; the breast harness beautifully framing her pert chest with ropes. “She did lead us right here.”

“And that is the end of her usefulness.” He ignores Tamra’s pleas for mercy as he climbs into the power armor. The metal carapace seals with an ominous hiss and amplifies his voice to a terrifying volume. “I want the rest of you with me. This is the moment we’ve waited all these months for.” That cheers the men. There’s nothing like booty to motivate a pirate.

“You heard the captain,” shouts Ganner, a human with an impressive gut and even more impressive arms. I want two five man patrols. Tooku and Merrick, see to the baggage train. And by the gods of lust someone get the tents set up. And you.” He grabs Tamra by the hair. “I got something special for you.”

“Come on Ganner, don’t do this. We go back.” She timidly pulls away but there isn't much she can do with her torso locked down as it is.

“We do, we do. But the captain says your useless, and you know what happens to useless bitches on this crew.” He pulls the bucking captive towards you.

“Please, no. Ganner you gotta help me, talk to him. Don’t let him do that to me!”

“Relax, there’s no scrambler anymore. Your just going to be a run of the mill fuck toy.”

“No!”

“Oh shut it bitch. We’ve all been fucking nothing but those dolls over there for two gods damned months and I for one want something with some life in it. Now get on your knees.” He pushes her down before you. She’s about to protest more but he raises his hand, silencing her. “As for you. Captain just hates you. He’s going to want you undamaged so he can do all the damage himself. Fortunately, he never minds if we sample the goods before he gets to work.”

“Didn’t he say to wait until after the camp was set up to start sampling?” You offer helpfully.

“Yes, well a good leader such as myself trusts his men to do their jobs well.” Over his shoulder you see one of the pirates improperly release a cargo strap and dump the entire contents of the grav-sled on the ground. He grabs the knife Captain Mal left behind and slices through the rope holding your crotch. Blood starved muscles and nerves drink hungrily as circulation returns opening a floodgate of pain and relief. Looking down, you see your clit has swollen to needy proportions and is a lustful red.

Pulling out his schlong reveals it to be as girthy as the rest of him. “Come over here now Tamra. You know how this ends.” Sobbing at her fate, the pink haired girl opens wide and takes in her former comrade. He sighs as the girl works her magic. “Just make me hard for our little captive here. Be a team player now.” He lets her move her head up and down until he swells past the capacity of her mouth to fully take. He deep throats her a couple times just for the sake of tormenting a helpless **** before pulling out. Trails of saliva drip down Tamra’s pouty lower lip.

“Your turn. I hope your a screamer.” He frees your legs and lift them up. You moan, at first in relief as his meaty arms finally take the weight off your strained limbs and then in pleasure as he rams himself inside you. “That’s it. Work it.”

Oh you do. That crotch rope left you **** and eager. Flexing your legs and your core, you grind yourself against his pelvis. His dick shifts inside you like the pistons of a great locomotive, driving you to orgasm. Your back slams into the soft trunk, each of his thrusts leaving deeper impression. All too soon, you feel the gushing of his orgasm inside you. He breathes heavily as slowly pulls out. “Sorry babe. Not as young as I used to be. You understand.”

“Ahhh…. Can Tamra finish me off?”

“No!” shouts Tamra in an excellent, if unintentional, demonstration of reverse psychology.

“Why not?” He pushes the ex-pirate forward. “Get to work. Think of it as practice Tamra. You know what Meakalith does to slaves who give her sloppy oral.”

Bitterly she shuffles forward and tenderly sticks out her tongue towards your clitty. She laps halfheartedly. “Come on now,” you say. “Put some effort into it.” Your legs spring around her neck and lock into a scissor hold.

“What the-Mmmmh!” You silence her with your pussy, squeezing her mouth into your crotch with athletic thighs.

“Less talking, more licking.” You grind against her with all the energy built up from your time in bondage. “I swear to god bitch, if you don’t start making me happy I’m not gonna let you breathe. With a flex she is pushed deeper into you, smothering her.

Ganner is loving the show. “Hah! Keep that up and the captain may delay your ****. Probably not, but it’s worth a shot.” With that he leaves you to tend to the crew. “No, no, no. That is clearly going the wrong way. And what happened to Xpith?” You ignore him, arching your back and pulling on the ropes, moaning as you do so.

“Listen bitch,” Tamra says between licks, “We're both in the same boat now and I am not going to be your-Hurghlk!”

“Tamra I thought we established last time that I’m in charge here. Now I’m going to keep my legs around your neck because it gives me a little bit of leverage so I can work these knots and get me a little closer to freedom. You are going to keep being a good little pussy licker for two reasons. One, I want it and I will **** the shit out of you if I don't get what I want. Two, when I get out of here, I will be more likely to take a good pussy licker with me than a bad one. Understand? No, no, don’t say anything, just keep licking.”