All the King's Horses Pt. 06

Tiff nodded, head all wobbly again. "Mmmmhmm!"

Sebastian lifted his hand up again. His fingers were shaking so much that he didn't actually snap them the first time, or the second. But on the third, his thumb and his pointer finger cracked and-

***

Tiff blinked and stretched, yawning slightly as she looked at the shell shocked Sebastian. She grinned. "What?" She asked, then squirmed a bit. For some reason, her uniform felt...weird. And. Tight. Tight. That was it. She squirmed and wriggled again as Sebastian leaned back, gulping slightly as he watched her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be, master?" Tiff asked, grinning. She bit her lip. There was a slow, throbbing heat building between her thighs. It was like getting horny...but...normally, when she got horny, her heart raced, her sex slickened, but she was able to shelve it and put it aside. She was an adult (kinda) she could control herself. But this was growing hotter and hotter now. She hadn't thought she could get like this. Her breath was coming shallow now. Panting. Her nipples were achingly hard and she saw they were peeking out against her skintight uniform.

Sebastian grinned, slowly. His fangs glittered. "You look a bit...squirmy."

"Umm..." Tiff nodded, her head bobbing. "Uh, Master, this is feeling uncomfortable. Like...itchy." She squirmed, her fingers finding her collar. She started to tug at it, panting softly. Her eyes half closed as she murmured. "I kinda want, uh, I want to get naked. I really need to get naked." She shook her head. "Just...this clothes is...um..." She wriggled, her thighs pressing together. "Nnnh, it's hard to think..."

God, her entire brain had become one cycling combination of thoughts: Naked. Cock. Naked. Cock. She bit her lower lip, then tugged harder at her collar. Silver fabric twisted, bent and tore and once she had gotten it past her shoulders she was able to wriggle her hip from side to side, gasping heavily as she was freed. She expected her nakedness to feel a relief, but the itching only grew more intense. Itching wasn't the right word, though. It was a kind of desperate need. It was a want that made her croon and whine. Her eyes closed and her head rolled back.

"Ah, Jesus Christ, I'm so fucking unbelivably horny, ah, what the fuck is happening?" She laughed, almost hysterical -- and a tiny shard of her brain knew that this was fine. Everything was fine. She could escape...and because she could escape..."What did you do to me?" She asked, panting. "You bastard...ha...wow, fuck, I'm so fucking horny, you could fuck my ear right now, ha, Jesus..."

Sebastian was grinning wickedly, watching her as he lounged on his back. "I've never seen you look so very wet..." He said, his voice a cool, calm drawl. His eyes flicked down and Tiff leaned forward, gripping her knees hard to try and stop her knees from quivering and her hands from quivering. Looking down, she saw her perky breasts, her hard nipples, her dripping sex. God. She was dripping. She hadn't known she could get this wet.

Tiff panted. "Ah, god, I need something..." She panted.

"Do you want some special clothes?" Master crooned, his voice a cool promise in her ear. Tiff almost came, her eyes unfocused as she nodded, too horny to even form words. Instead, she just let out a little grunt. Unh unh unh.

Sebastian stood, casually, stretching his arms behind his back as he walked over to the replicator. He tapped at it and once it was done, he had produced a gleaming golden bikini, shimmering slightly in the sunlight, with a filmy golden thong that looked like it would stick to her like glue. It was, by far, the most shamelessly, stupidly smutty and exploitative outfit that she had ever seen and Tiff needed it like she needed oxygen. She grabbed it from her master's hands -- or she tried too. He had jerked backwards, using his vampire speed zooms and Tiff dropped to her knees, her sex dripping onto the ground under her. She swore she was leaving a fucking puddle.

She grabbed at his thighs, whimpering and whining. "Massster! Please! Please, yes, please, I want to wear it, please let me wear it, I'll be such a pretty little Centurion slave girl, I'll let you do anything to me, please, please-" She mashed her face against his thigh, breathing in the faint musk of a vampire male, her eyes closing tightly.

Master dropped the bikini onto her head. She grabbed it and wriggled into it -- barely having enough time to get it clasped tight around her chest -- and then she had the thong up onto her and tugged them taut and tight. She was able to actually think, slightly, at that moment. Her eyes closed and she quivered as she felt more complete in this moment than she had in ages. She smiled, then started to stand, shakily, her hands going up to brush her fingers through her hair, rifling it. It was getting a little bit longer than she liked -- but at the moment, she hoped the extra length was helping make her master nice and horny for her.

"What do you think, master?" she purred.

"I think you look like...a gorgeous little...pet," Master said, haltingly, nervously. Then, with more confidence, his hand gently reached out and squeezed her rump. His fingers were cool to the touch and it made gooseflesh race along her back. He gripped her, then squeezed her, hard enough to make her gasp. Mewl. And the temporary reprieve that putting her costume on had been was just that...temporary. Her knees trembled and she panted, her head hanging forward as she felt the heat between her thighs throbbing back again. But the heat was spreading. Her whole body was flushed and beading with sweat as she leaned up against her master, trying to take some comfort in his blessed coolness.

Master pushed her back against the wall, grinning. "You need me bad, don't you?"

She nodded, desperately, her thong so soaked that it was nearly transparent. She licked her tongue and crooned. "Yesss..." The word became and almost animalistic growl at the end. And it was more than enough for Master. He leaned in and he captured her mouth with his, her thigh lifting up and crooking around his back, holding him close to her with all of her strength. His hand gripped at her ass, his other hand threading through her hair. Clenching. Their tongues met and Tiff let him kiss her, let him draw his mouth back, let him lean forward. His teeth grazed her neck, the tips not even breaking her skin before she had cum.

Hard.

"Oh god!" She grunted, her back arching, her thighs tightening. She felt her sex clenching on nothing, needy. Wanting. Her eyes whited out -- and then she felt the cool length of him, grinding against her cunt. Master blurred into movement, so that the time between his cock slipping against her and his body filling hers with his manhood was almost impossible to measure. And yet, even as he moved at superhuman speed, he used every iota of control he had -- filling her gently. Smoothly. She felt so full and so perfect and...and still, the heat was burning inside of her. She made an incoherent noise of pure want, leaning her head against the top of his, nuzzling his dark hair.

Master's fangs plunged into her neck and blood pumped into his mouth as his hips pumped against hers. Their skin met with loud, meaty thwack noises, and his balls bounced against her ass again and again and and again. Tiffany was unable to speak, unable to breathe. All she could do was make choked noises at the base of her throat, her mouth working in silent, orgasmic bliss as she rocked her hip against her master as he fucked her and he fucked her hard.

What felt like an eternity of white hot bliss passed -- streaked only with the lines of messy blood dripping between their bodies, seeping from the puncture wounds on her neck, which he kissed and sucked too every few seconds, before finally, at long last, he licked her neck with one, long, slow motion -- closing the wound and leaving his mouth near her ear, growling. "Take my cum, my pet!" It was a sharp snarl, animal too, and Tiff felt what had to be her tenth orgasm rocket through her. She wailed.

And Master spent himself inside of her. A rush of blessed coolness gushed into her body and she swore she could track the movements of it by the rippling waves of pleasure that echoed from deep inside of her...

Tiff thought there would be relief. Instead, there was still more heat. Still more want. She whined, low, desperately, her body wrung out and exhausted. The burning desire inside of her blazed hotter and hotter and hotter and then she saw, faintly, the movement of Sebastian's arm. His fingers-

***

Tiff felt utterly woozy. Like she'd run a few dozen kilometers without stop. Or gone five rounds with a raging Gurahl in big ass bear mode and the reff had been asleep at the switch. Except there was one big difference between those two hypothetical scenarios.

Tiff would not have felt so luxuriantly, decadently, blessedly goooood.

She sprawled slowly onto her back and realized that Sebastian had placed her beside the bed for a reason. And then Sebastian, his body gleaming like marble, crawled onto the bed above her. He panted, heavily, looking down into her eyes. His voice was soft. "How was that?" he asked -- and slowly, memories of not only the frenzied, wild, fuck session filled her mind...but so did the memory of the hypnosis, and the provisions and extra commands.

"Wow..." She whispered. "I really had no idea during the...but after the...wow..."

Sebastian chuckled, quietly. "So, was it...good?" He asked.

Tiff nodded, slowly. "Yeah. Like. Wowza."

The two of them laid in companionable silence. Sebastian was breathing slowly, steadily. He was a vampire. He didn't need to breathe -- and yet, his memories of being human were still there, still strong enough to trick him in the passion of this moment to draw breath. To pant. He had been fucking hard, so he was going to pant hard. Only slowly did that panting slow down, and once it had stopped, did she finally ask him: "Wanna do it again?"

"Already?" Sebastian asked, with a plaintive note that cracked Tiffany right the fuck up. She put her hand over her mouth, her shoulders quivering, her eyes closing.

"Pfffttb!" She punched his chest. "No. In, like, a fucking week after my organs have settled back into their old places and my hip sockets are back in joint." She shook her head.

"I-I wasn't that roug-" He started.

"It was a compliment. A tiff-style complimentario!" Tiff closed her eyes, her hand caressing his chest. "Wolf blanket, ploz."

Sebastian let out a long, suffering sigh.

But soon, she was buried under thick, downy wolf fur. His naturally chill body soon warmed -- fur was an excellent insulator, where he was alive or dead. And soon, Tiffany was fast asleep.

***

"What an ugly ball of dirt..." Tiffany muttered as she stood on the bridge of the DeeDee, looking down at the dropoff point used by the Capellan Trade Alliance for their kidnapped brain-jars slave bots.

"Yeah, you're telling me," Monkar said. His new body was contained in a large, circular tank that was filled with water, with his actual body inside of it. He looked like a floating mass of eyeballs and tentacles and globby gas bags, which let him bob around in the water like a...well, a Polyp. Hence the name. The tank was nestled on a set of four spider-legs, which he controlled through some measure that Tiff did not understand.

The planet itself dominated the view-screen. The DeeDee was in a high orbit above it, and the camera had just a perfect view of the whole thing: A smear of gritty, brownish muck that seemed to cover the whole world. The brown was only interrupted by the gray and the black, which seemed to span across the entire equator. And there, in the dark side of the world, were guttering orange glows which made her wince just to look at them. Tobias glanced at Sebastian, who was reading off scanner results from his terminal.

"The planet has an atmosphere that supported life, as of five, six decades ago," he said. "But it got struck by a kinetic impactor -- easily on par with the asteroid that killed the dinosaur. From what I can tell, the planet has been wracked with dust storms, an ash layer that has dropped global temperatures to freezing everywhere that there aren't continent sized firestorms. Those firestorms appear to be clustered around large collections of biomass..." He shook his head. "No idea why or how they're still burning years, decades, later."

"Well, doesn't that implizay that they the whammy didn't slammy until recently?" Tiff asked.

"An asteroid impact like that would produce a planetary ringing effect -- like hitting a gong. That ringing has reduced...and, well, the planet's crust could be unlike any planetary crust we've ever scanned before. But it is unlikely," he said, nodding.

"Something about this doesn't feel right," Tobias said, frowning. "Why...here."

"I was told," Monkar said. "It would assist in my deception. I could claim that the world was recently attacked or stricken by disaster. Tug on their heart strings, then offer what I was dropped off with -- technology, credits..."

"A desperate billionaire, trying to buy their way off a dead planet..." Tobias said, rubbing his chin.

"It's not a terrible plan," Sebastian said. "Assuming you're not picked up by a ship that investigates enough to find any problems with your story."

Tobias nodded. "Are we detecting any signals from down there?"

The tactical officer -- Porter -- tapped at his console. "One. It's faint. It's anywhere within a twenty, thirty kilometer area. The signal's being bounced around by the ash and the dust down there." He shook his head a bit. "It's definitely low-tech. Not a neutrino burst."

Tobias frowned. "All right. Sebastian, Tiffany, Bruce, put together an away team -- I want you to find that signal and see if the Capellans left any more clues. Finding nothing, we'll set up a probe here to wait for any Capellan ships and then begin to hunt for more clues elsewhere."

Tiff grinned. "Swag!"

***

Just like the trip down to Box'noxia, Tiffany hated every second between hitting the atmosphere and hitting the ground. Unlike the trip to Box'noxia, this one was inside of a Federation shuttle, with areodynamics and advanced thrusters. They didn't help, since they were screaming through a planet-killing ash storm that had been going for decades, but it was the thought that counted. And what was more, Tiff knew to keep her jaw clenched this time. Through the blurring, shuddering vision that she just barely saw through, she could see Sebastian, looking utterly miserable in his restraint harness.

That made her feel better.

After an eternity and six hells later, the shuttle kicked on the forward thrusters, whirred, and came to a stop. The hissing sound that had filled her ears didn't stop, though: The whole ship felt as if it was being sandblasted at every second.

Tiff strapped herself into Paladin battle armor and latched the helmet on. Once again, it pulled off that neat little trick: It shimmered and seemed to vanish, so that she could look around herself with ease. She saw the others and saw that the helmet had made their helmets look as if it was invisible -- editing her vision, since it was being piped through cameras. She gave Sebastian a thumbs up -- even as Bruce called out.

"All right everyone -- this place is uninhabited, but I don't want us to get picked off one by one by some fucking murder monster. We will latch everyone into groups of three, and you will replicate and deploy radio bouncers, to enhance and spread our communications. Everyone, program your HUD to remind you every hundred meters."

Tiff tapped at her wrist, humming softly. "Don't tell my old computer I said this, but this interface is way freaking easier than using Windows 98."

"Promise," Sebastian said, latching a small wire to her belt, connecting him to her. Bryce latched to her other side and Tiff grinned.

"Double teamed!"

"No," Sebastian said, flatly.

The back of the shuttle whirred open, revealing a vast, bleak fog of gray-white sand. It whistled past the front and when Tiff stepped into it, she staggered with the sweeping pressure of it. She stumbled to her knee, gasping. She forced herself back to her feet as the rest of the marines stumbled into the wind.

"Oh, this is going to be a fun planet." She muttered.

Bruce laughed and stomped past her, trailing his own two buddies.

The next mind numbing hour crawled by on hands and knees. Tiffany and Bryce and Sebastian walked through the silt, deploying their radio enhancers every hundred meters, using them to form a grid with the other groups of marines as they stomped forward through the howling storm. It never seemed to end -- and yet, it always changed. Sometimes, it would be a high shrieking scream. Sometimes, it would be a a whistling wine that crept up past the range of her hearing and drilled into her temples like a fucking power-driver.

Through it all, conversation was limited. Sparse. It was like the weight of the dead planet was slowly squishing their life out of them.

"Good thing this place has a moon, huh?" Tiff tried to shout over the communication frequency.

"Shame we can't see it," Bryce shouted back over the din. Their helmets were doing their best to cut down on the noise -- but there was a limit to what ever super advanced mega-science could do.

Tiff nodded, looking at him...and then she saw it. For just a moment, she was sure that the winds and the dust had blown together into a shape. A form. She stepped forward, dragging Sebastian behind her with a cry of alarm from him. She crested a dune -- and then saw it again. The sandstorm parted and she saw a half buried slab of steel and aluminum rising from the dunes. It looked as if it had been pitted and corroded away by the endless winds, but it was still mostly intact. It was also clearly a rocket. She could even see the engine thrusting from the back, the curved pressure of it. She laughed, pointing. "There! There it is!"

Sebastian and Bryce both stepped up to either side of her on the dune.

"Well, so it is," Sebastian said. "That ship looks primitive -- maybe the natives on this planet built it?"

"Yeah, maybe," Bryce said, checking his weapon. He had brought a heavy projectile pistol rather than his laser gauntlet. Which, Tiff realized, made plenty of sense. They were walking around on sandogeddon the planet of sandonium, the sandiest metal known to man.

The three of them walked forward, bent almost double against the hissing blast of the sandstorm. The ship seemed to be further and further away with every step. Tiff closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and kept going until, at last, the ship's bulk cut the hissing wail of the sandstorm down to something she could almost think through. Bryce found a door and after a bit of examination, nodded. "There's a pressure lock here..." He began to tug on it. "They're righthanded, whoever built this." He grunted. "It turns-"

The door hissed open with a chu-chunk. Tiff hopped inside and breathed a heavy, happy sigh of relief as she looked around the interior of the airlock. The inner door was opened, but there were several heavy curtains, clearly made to cut down on any ash getting through while the door was open. She walked forward, her two buddies hurrying in after her. The door shut with a clunk and she felt a blissful almost silence descend around her.

Yes, the sandstorm was still going, but...

Then Tiff shook her head.

It wasn't sand, was it. It was the ashen last breath of a dead world.