Xanthopella: The Gift

He sank down also and a moist tongue began exploring me from behind. I could not avoid it without exposing more cunt to Xanthopella whose tongue still moistened my delta. These were just playful actions, tickling, stimulating my imagination and shocking me. Preparing me.

Fingers stroked my taut belly, making my breath shudder uncontrollably. Fingers dug into the tense muscles of my waist and knees and I shrieked, slipping just a fraction but it was enough. I could not hold myself upright any longer and my hands were pulled higher and higher as I sank. Their fingernails on my taut flesh, their fingers digging into waist and thigh, their hands pulling my knees wider did not allow me to regain anything I lost. They pulled me down as low as I could go, thighs spread wide on pillows that gave no grip. Nothing to prevent gravity pulling them wider. Only my arms, now pulled taut and apart high above my head, supported me. There was no hope of recovery. Hands placed lightly on my thighs held me there. Hands stroking up my stomach and sides and up my outstretched arms took away all control. I keened helplessly. Fingers dug into my waist and knees again and I convulsed, gasping.

Their torture of me became more gentle, more sexual. Slower, more purposeful stroking of my taut inner thighs Fingers caressed my breasts and nipples. Their lips, their tongues, explored sensitive but forgotten areas. Behind my ears. The hollows around collarbone and throat. The nape of my neck and the small of my back. Always murmuring how elegant my neck was, how perfectly shaped my ears, how all the muscles in my stomach and back lured the eye down, how all the curves in my thigh were placed there to guide a hand up. To my sex to pleasure me. Two hands explored me there. One circling slowly, stimulating my clit through the flesh. One probing. teasing the lips, kneading the flesh between arse and cunt. They took their time.

Twelve hands stimulating me, their bodies curled around me like pythons. Kissing me. Sometimes just capturing my gaze in their massive liquid eyes. My nipples were painfully hard; my captors teased them gently. A burning rose in my loins, spreading out, welling up, rising to sweep me away.. I was totally helpless to prevent it.

But each time as my climax would approach, they would torture me again with fingernails drawn lightly over taut flesh, and I would shriek and lose it, and they would start again. Sweat poured from me. Their fingers stimulated and teased me until to come was all I hoped for. If I could just get a hand free, I would masturbate myself to freedom before them. Stimulation and torment merged into one, and all sensation became sexual, I arched under their teasing fingers and they allowed me to grind against their kneading hands, this time the burning rose higher and higher.

"Yeeesssssss!" I screamed,

But I was not free. Xanthopella descended to lick my wet pussy, penetrating deep into me with her muscular alien tongue. It felt so good but I considered I was demeaning her to accept pleasure like this. Yet she drank me like a long cool drink.

The thongs suspending my wrists became slack. The husband's hands supported me and lowered my weakened arms into my lap where they hung. It was all I could do to stroke Xan's elegant jaw and neck, feebly to interpose my fingers and touch myself, to show her she need not do it. She licked around and under them as I gained strength. "I can do it," I murmured.

Reluctantly Xan rose, kissing her way up the sensitive skin between thigh and stomach to a hip, biting my waist playfully and drawing a yelp.

As she rose she became more dominant, pushing me back with hands on my chest and another on my shoulder. She pushed me onto my back, my spine supported upon the belly of her husband. All of his hands, his lips and his tail were free to explore me. The tip of his tail had curved back on itself to dip into me and slid up and down my nether-lips like a single soft finger. Something fizzed and tickled down there, some secretion. I could not see for my head was tilted back over his shoulder as he kissed up and down my throat. All I could see was, upside-down in the mirrored wall, the beset naked girl between her two alien lovers.

"Unnh!" I groaned in protest as he entered me from behind. It did not seem a sexual thing or even a very powerful sensation but for the strangeness of it. His bulbous tail seemed flattened like a hand to push into my crack but what was insinuating itself into my arse felt about the size of a finger, warm and frictionless. Then it merely stayed. I felt that I had been plugged into. If I had not been fighting other battles I would have fought to see what was going on.

"Do not be afraid," he said to me as his hands stroked up and down my belly, driving me wild. "My wife is almost ready. I will feel with you."

Xanthopella suckled on my taut nipples, nipping playfully. Their expert hands kneaded, stroked, tormented my yearning flesh, up and down my helplessly writhing form. It seemed so long since my last release. Xanthopella, heavy on my stomach, began kissing her way up to the hollow between shoulder and neck, tickling unbearably. She nibbled an ear.

The husband interlocked the fingers of my hands with hands of his own, from behind so that my bare palms were face up by my shoulders. My stomach was thrust skyward as his stomach arched. I ground my thighs together, caging the wanton hunger. The Alien crooned to his lover. "This girl is my body. Her sweet juices are my juices. I offer all this joy to you, my love."

More arms encircled me and hands gripped my waist, inner thighs, breasts, kneading and squeezing rhythmically as if to force all the blood into my head and air from my lungs.

My Lady took my head in her hands and faced me. Her lips barely touching mine, her breath inhumanly fresh. She captured me with her hypnotic blue eyes. Taking everything in from the tremble of my lips to my flushed cheeks. What was she watching for? I felt it before I saw it. Her whole body began to tremble. A throbbing vibration that would almost fade to nothing then return. Then I saw it. The bud on her massive tail had bloomed. From the sheath an ebony stamen emerged. Its edges insubstantial, It buzzed, and this is what caused her tremble. The whole tail was arched, like a stinger ready to plunge. I gasped, and she kissed me, swallowing my tongue and any sound I tried to make. Alien fingers slipped easily between my tightly clenched thighs and just as effortlessly spread them wide apart. Now their breathing was ragged. The process that would naturally end in the death of the male had begun and was unstoppable. Only I would take his place and survive. Unless they had lied! Unless all this attention they had poured into me was because they knew this would be the last night of my life! Her eyes were still on me but the gentleness was through a glaze of predatory lust; my mistress's mind now driven by an imperative clarity that would allow her to murder her most dear, were I were not there to receive her. The male was also under a spell, arched up beneath me pushing me higher. His muscles locked up like iron, imprisoning me until a key opened them.

The stinger arched languidly down, butting against my helpless cunt. It's muscular vibration ringing against my pelvis, shaking the taut muscles in my spread thighs and flat stomach.

Larger than a baby's head, blunt and heavy. It terrified me as it excited me. I felt the stamen split, and from the sheath another emerged, which split again, until the tip that battered my cunt was a helmet smaller than half my fist. Frictionless and irresistible it penetrated me. The vibration overwhelmed all other sensation. I did not feel my hymen break. Perhaps that was when she paused a second and her blue eyes turned to mine questioningly. Sheath after sheath followed the first, each driving me further into frenzy. I was filled to bursting. Then she truely entered me. A mystery and a fact; I knew it even as I forgot all else. The Stamen swelled inside me, a key turning in the lock.

She fit me. Better than any man could. Her sex was the true inverse of mine. Her nether lips flowed around mine like clay made into flesh, trembling light as a feather yet utterly overwealming. I heard a girl's throaty wail and knew the girl was me.

They released my legs, but all I could do was grip them futilely down on the buzzing tail. They released my arms but all I could do was hold on to Xanthopella for dear sanity as the sensations grew in me and I climaxed, again and again. My queen sung with joy and release. I could feel her juices pumping into me. We wept together, clutching each other.

I fainted sometimes as I climaxed, so I do not know how long or how many times. Finally it appeared to be over, for her tail would only flutter occasionally, causing me to groan. She pulled me on top of her, where I lay unresisting as the other massaged my back, lips kissing up and down my spine from ear to ankle.

I slept though much of this and only awoke when the queen finally pulled her stinger from my cunt. Her sex had flowered within mine. Such a length of ribbed and pulsing organ emerged that I was afraid my insides would be emptied.

The husband washed me and teat-fed me and washed me again before carrying me to a warm mud pool. I was too tired to protest and fell asleep again on my back in the buoyant restorative mud.

***

Swimming with them in water as sparkling clear as diamond; dancing for them naked and uninhibited on the sand of desert isles; telling them my tales and every wonderful thing I ever did, over and over while they praised my abilities, praised my body, praised the entire composition that was my life.

Nothing good lasts forever.

I knew my Lady Xanthopella was going to tell me they were leaving me. For days I had sensed that their mission on my world was approaching its end. When they told me how they enjoyed and loved me, the words were tainted with regret and apology: that tone reserved for someone that you must leave or someone you must use. Why apologize for using a slave?

For a while after that first night I had naively assumed they wanted me for keeps. This had always been unreasonable. For the price of transporting a slave they could buy twenty. No, I was just being bitter. I would be attached to their assets on planet. A chattel of the embassy. At least I would be somewhat safe from Lord Rracc. It did not occur to me that Xanthopella might free me, or that she might sell me.

"Soon we must leave your planet," Xanthopella informed me regretfully. "We may not be back for a hundred years. Before we go, we will grant you a secret wish."

A secret wish? I had a lot of those. I had a secret wish that I was gagged so that I could not speak, fingers bound so that I couldn't write, and that they were going to take me with them, so far away, ignoring forever my pleas to return. Most of all, to ignore what I had to say next.

I looked down. "My father. My mother made me swear on her deathbed to protect him." The words stuck in my craw but I had to say them. "When you leave I, I want to go back to him."

She took my head in her hands and kissed my forehead. "No."

I was dumbstruck. So convinced had I been that she would grant me such a plain request.

She placed a finger thoughtfully on her cheek and looked at me askance, then said to her partner "Perhaps she really does not know what her secret wish is?"

"Then perhaps we should keep it a secret a little longer" her mate replied. "In the mean time, we have been invited to a banquet in our honor, by Lord Rracc. Formal wear and slaves were specifically requested."

"No!" I gasped. Didn't they know what Lord Rracc wanted? I tried to explain, begged them to listen. But they could not seem to understand, and insisted that in any case it would be rudeness on a diplomatic scale not to grant such a reasonable request. Unlike my request, I though bitterly. What value are a slaves wishes? I would not test my master's benevolence with rebellion. I would bide my time, but if the slightest opportunity of escape appeared before the banquet, I would be gone.

***

The carriage door opened and I was helped out onto the palace steps. Me, the most agile thief in the city. But I had never worn heels like these before, my Mistress and Master had insisted I take something for my stomach that killed the nausea but left me dizzy, and my wrists were bound to a hoop of my ball dress, suspended a good foot from my sides at all times. This was formal wear for the lowest level concubine. Lord Rracc's household had sent detailed instructions of expected formal wear to all alien guests. The ball dress itself was a tasteful design (tight corset and white lace though plainer than my bridal dress) until the eye reached down to the second hoop where my wrists were bound. That's where taste and the dress ended. The ball-skirt hid nothing from anyone except me. The collar and leash were black so that no one could miss them amongst all that white lace.

All eyes were on me except Lord Rracc's who feigned indifference. Everybody there knew that I was to be the star of the show. I stared back defiantly at the lords and ladies. The room was set up suspiciously like a theater. The wives and concubines sat on cushions at their husband's and owner's feet; unless they sat in their lap. They were overdressed. Certainly none were naked below the hips. None wore collars beyond the most delicate chain. Their faces were painted and disdainful as they very theatrically noted my bare legs and lowly status. These represented the highest social station allowed to a woman. My face burned with shame as they tittered amongst themselves. I consoled myself that they sought to enjoy my shame only because they had no other real power or function. Yet that was not no power at all. I was here at Lord Rracc's design to quell those titters and meaningful glances that he knew followed him like ripples, even if never to his face. In a sense I was here at the Ladies' hand, just as my humiliation and murder would be for their entertainment.

No pillow was provided for me. Of course I had to be lower than the lowest there. At least this let me push the hoop all the way to the floor. To my horror, as I sat down, instead of encountering cold floor I discovered that an alien tail had surreptitiously slipped under the hoop and the bulbous end became my cushion. I couldn't jump up and scream. I didn't want these Lords and ladies to find out I was a screamer. Perhaps no-one would even notice. Perhaps I was overreacting, since I observed that some of the lords had their hands through slits in their favorite concubines ball-gowns as they sat on their lap. Those cumbersome dresses were not for chastity so much as privacy.

I had no choice but to settle down on the bulb. It was soft yet muscular. And hot. The tapered tip began patting me gently on the mons. I glanced round at Xanthopella uncertainly. What were they up to? Did they know what they were doing? Was this betrayal? But she just smiled her alien smile and tousled my short hair as if there was nothing to worry about.

Throughout the banquet the petting continued, and she stroked my hair affectionately whenever the conversation touched on me, or if I became restless. For the most part I was ignored and I began to hope this would continue. Maybe it was something they had given me, but I found myself able to close my eyes and forget the Lords and Ladies, and just dwell on the warmth lapping at my arse and my Lady's hands stroking, and all the things this could progress to if this silly party would just end.

My reverie was shattered by the one voice I had dreaded. Not Lord Rracc's. He would not start this. Could not admit to personal involvement. Another Noble had singled himself out in my mind. A sycophantic toad who had licked his way up from bastard son to Duke. He would be the one.

"The most amusing thought has just occurred to me. Here we are sharing a feast but where is the entertainment? I was asked especially to arrange it yet somehow.. I forgot!" He laughed dorkishly. I almost called DORK out loud. Things had been going so nicely.

"There is a tradition in these cases. Well, more of an ancient Law. It hasn't been called upon for a hundred years, but is still technically in force. I am not sure I should even mention it. Our guests might feel put upon by it all."

Before my owners could speak, a girlish voice broke in.

"Oh please, tell us what the law says!" one of Toady's concubines rested her chin on his knee and begged in one of the worst displays of overacting. Applause followed, and she grinned around at her peers. At least she had the pudency to avoid my eyes.

"Oh, it is simply this. If a Lord puts on a feast, the guest is expected to bring the entertainment. A sort of show-and-tell. Not to do so would be the gravest insult. It is silly, but the law is an arse and all that. And it is really no joke, for we in this room represent the highest arses in the land! A-haha!" He took a sip of wine while others appreciated his wit.

"I would never have dreamed of speaking, thus placing such a task on our guests, but then the shear coincidence of it all struck me." He beamed. "It is really no task at all is it? For you are leaving. You would hardly be dragging a bargain slave along with you, I assumed. So you were probably looking for a quick way to be rid of her anyhow. It doesn't matter if she is talentless, that you have no program arranged. I can arrange a program, and the best, most traditional entertainment is ephemeral and cannot be rehearsed."

"He's--!" Lying. My cry was thankfully cut short by a jerk on the collar. To accuse a noble of lying would have sealed my fate. It was not sealed yet. There had to be some way to escape still.

Xanthopella turned one eye, birdlike, to inspect this man. "hmmn, yes. We actually had encountered that quaint law, and we have heard of these traditional entertainments. Wicking. Yes. I regret that to donate this poor sweet thing to such a purpose would be absolutely.." The toady was frowning and made as if to interrupt, but the alien's powerful voice allowed none. "Humane. Humane. Yes. I think that word is appropriate. To burn out a life that serves no more purpose, quickly, in a single night. That would be the human thing to do. I fear the alternative would be.. The purpose we procured her for would be.. Inhuman. And infinitely prolonged. Although... I am not human. Perhaps it is culturally acceptable to be inhuman? I decided before your invitation that I required a human's perspective on my quandary."

The silence stretched on for seconds after her beautifully mellow voice released them.

When Toady finally replied, it was as if he had been kicked. "Er, ah.. Perhaps if you made your .. more explicit .. that is.." He stifled a glance in Lord Rracc's direction. "We could all help you decide if your plan is sufficiently, I mean too inhumane"

"Very well. There is of course a personal use we make of her, between me and my mate. But I will not discuss that here. The second purpose is to hear her sing."

One of the younger concubines piped up sourly "That's not very inhumane."

"Really? She insists that it is. So far as we have established the meaning of that strange word. And she struggles and fights so as she sings. We have to keep her restrained. And afterwards she begs to be returned to her father. She makes a fine musical instrument. The throaty wail of a human is quite an aphrodisiac to our species and several others among the civilized worlds. So primitive and honest. Don't your own police forces use similar techniques to encourage truthfulness, to make criminals sing?"

Toady's concubine gasped in unrehearsed horror. "You are going to torture her because you like the sounds she makes?"