Starr vs the Emperor of Space Pt. 02

"That it does, old chum," the other radio operator said. Mark stepped over, his uniform feeling scratchy and new, his cast up arm still clutched tight to his chest. He watched the screen -- it showed the dot he knew was Chip's fancy Spitfire -- the one that been modified to go after German high altitude bombers. But there was a faint, grainy indication of another dot...for just a moment.

"Chip?" Mark asked.

"There's...well...I ca...the...n...Jerry..."

The blip indicating Chip's plane...fuzzed away.

"Chip?" Mark grabbed the radio from the operator, who gaped at him. He held it to his mouth and paused, looking at the screen, hearing the howling static -- and then the spreading returns that meant...

That meant Chip's fighter had broken to pieces.

"Chip?" Mark's voice was desperate. Tight. "Chip!? CHIIIIIIIIIIIIP!"

Mark snapped awake, gasping and sitting up, clutching his hand to his chest. He looked about himself -- and thought, for a moment, that he was once more back on Earth. The gravity felt normal, and he felt as if he was wakening from a deep, blissful dream. But then the realization came, clear as crystal, that he was not on Earth. There was no way on Earth that he would awaken in a chamber that looked as if it had been carved from glittering ice, and was lit by the warm glow of a large, iron fireplace. The floor had a broad green furred tiger pelt. And, finally, he was completely naked save for a golden collar around his throat. His finger went to the collar -- but he found he couldn't get his finger between it and his flesh.

"Well, this is just peachy," he muttered. His eyes slid back to the fireplace and he shivered. "They're definitely not using Blue Coal for that fire." He looked away from the fire, shaking his head. "I can tell -- this room feels closer to freezing the warm. If they were using Blue Coal, then even this hellish place would be as balmy and warm as a summer's day. And, more, they'd only need to replace the fireplace's coal once every other day, thanks to Blue Coal's long burn time."

He shook his head, slowly.

"Ah, you're awake!"

The door to the chamber -- nearly invisible against the wall, being nothing but a set of fine lines and pale white metal that was blended in with the ice. The corridor beyond had two humanoid figures standing in it, Mark didn't need to be a genius to recognize them as guards, but...for the moment, his brain had very little blood to think with because he was looking at the woman that was standing in the doorway.

She was dressed, if one could call it that, in a pair of small red pasties that covered the tips of her modest breasts, and a thin triangle of fabric that covered her unmentionables and...well, she had to be hairless along her legs and pelvis and more, or else she'd have been showing off every bit of that hair right now. Her shoulders had a flowing golden cape that was draped around her, with a high collar, and she wore a gem encrusted tiara. Her left hand was clad in a golden and silver metal gauntlet, tipped with long razor sharp fingers and studded with tiny gemstones on the knuckles and wrist, while her right hand was entirely uncovered.

Her skin was milk pale, her hair was dark red, and her eyes were gleaming purple.

She licked her blood red lips as she stepped forward towards Mark, who tried to cover his crotch.

"Oh, please, don't," she purred, reaching over and adjusting the knuckle-gemstone on her gauntlet. The gemstone glowed and the collar around Mark's throat glowed. He felt his muscles tense as if electrical energies were exploding through them, and his hand jerked free as his cock went from soft to immediately achingly hard. He gasped and panted, his body burning with the aftereffects of the sensation...electrocution, but without the pain or the agony. Instead, he felt as if his skin was tingling and his body was blazing with arousal.

Part of that might have been the beautiful stranger.

Though, his ardor was somewhat tempered by the collar and the strange gauntlet. The woman chuckled as she stepped over to the bed, her eyes shining -- and then she froze, her mouth opening in a pert O of complete shock. Mark blinked, then looked down at his member. His cheeks heated slightly. "You know, it isn't polite to-"

"Have you been modified?" she whispered.

"I wasn't circumcised if what's what you mean, no," Mark said, then gasped. The woman, without even asking for a by your leave, had closed her right hand around his cock. Her fingers didn't quite close against her palm as she grinned slowly, then leaned forward. Her nose flared and she breathed him in.

"Oh my, your cock is quite...spectacular. I'd say it is close to twelve space inches," she whispered, then slid up onto the bed. Her palm glided up and down his member and Mark's fingers clenched on the bed, his head ducking forward slightly. His teeth clenched and he panted as the woman stroked him slowly -- languidly, almost, as if she was enjoying watching him squirm. "And you say you have this naturally? Remarkable. I've never known humans were so gifted."

"I...am rather special," Mark admitted, his eyes half closed. "Who are you?"

"Oh! Yes, of course..." She paused, then leaned over and...lewdly, a droplet of spittle came from between her lips. It slapped against his glans and when her hand swept up and down, his entire member glistened, her spit being used to make the caress of her palm even more slippery and even more decadent. His eyes half closed and he shuddered a she clenched her fingers tighter, then squeezed the base of his cock. "I am Star Princess Zella. You may refer to me as your highness."

"Excuse me, Zella-"

She huffed, lifting her head, her hand still sweeping along his cock, stroking him as if she was one of the pretty french girls who had been eager to lay with any American they met, during the heady final days of the War. The combination of the oddly subservient act with her own haughty confidence left Mark feeling as if he was being twisted left and right at random. His eyes closed to slits as she spoke: "I said you may refer to me as your highness, slave."

"W-Well, I...ah..." Mark trembled.

His cock throbbed.

Zella's hand moved faster and faster.

"I..." Mark gasped out. "I...fuck!"

His balls tightened as his eyes flashed white, his whole body locking up as he quivered -- and then his cum spurted out, splashing against Zella's cheek and chest, painting the inside of her arm, flicking against his belly, sliding over her knuckles. His member kept spurting again and again, making an absolute mess, aided by the way her hand kept pumping him. Zella sat in shock, her mouth opened, clearly stunned to be painted by his seed.

"F-Fuck..." Mark panted.

"Y-You...you came without warning!" Zella exclaimed.

"Well, excuse me Princess," Mark said, panting. His cock was still achingly hard, despite himself. "I haven't exactly been plowing a lot of fields, my endurance is on a bit of a hair trigger."

Zella stood, shaking her head, scowling down at herself. "I will have to have the Cybrid clean me off. Her tongue is most efficacious. While I do, you must learn control. I believe..." She reached over to her gauntlet. "My neuro-collar shall induce fractional pleasure for the next three space hours. If you do not touch yourself, I shall reward you with the pleasure of my sitting upon your face. If you do, then...well, it shall be the Cybrid you please." She nodded. "I believe that is enough enticement, yes?"

"Neuro-what?" Mark asked.

Zella touched another one of her gauntlets.

His collar glowed.

Mark, who hadn't even been close to going soft, snapped to full aching hardness. His member throbbed and he trembled, his jaw clenching tightly as he tried to keep himself from moaning in desperate pleasure. He bucked his hips slightly -- but Zella was already drawing away.

"Good luck, my newest pet. We shall see how you do." She turned back. "As a warning...the Cybrid's tongue is coated in a deadly poison. I am immune, thanks to long exposure. So do think on that while imagining having her sit upon your face...think on that well, human stud, and maybe you will survive to be one of my love slaves."

She turned and swept out, chortling to herself.

Mark panted, clenching his hands. The collar strobed as pleasure burned through him. His balls wanted to tighten and he wanted to cum so badly...but he closed his eyes and forced the sensation back through sheer force of will. He opened his eyes and looked for a window -- and saw none. Only a large portrait of what appeared to be a tall, lean, bald man dressed in an ornate robe and bearing a scepter in one hand, a sword in the other. Those domineering eyes glared down at him, as if watching his every movement.

Mark tried to imagine the universe beyond that painting -- the stars outside -- and thought...

Well, then, Jas. Looks like I'm on my own. But I'll find you out there...

He clenched his jaw. He nearly came at the thought of Jas and Claudette's breasts. His mind hazed and he trembled -- the mental image of Claudette taking hold of her top and teasing it slowly down, to let her-

"No!" He hissed.

Then laid back.

"It's gonna be worse than the Bulge, isn't it?" he grumbled under his breath.

***

As Mark Styles tried, desperately, to control his own pleasure, millions of kilometers away, after days of silent chase...the climax of Jasmine Starr's adventure was about to come.

While one might imagine a vehicle traveling in a straight line would be easily struck by thousands upon thousands of rounds of gunfire, one must think twice! The field of space is unlike any other field of battle. The heroic troops of the Allies fought in a realm of gravity and air, where an enemy might be miles away at most -- but the ravening robot rockets of Aytan Zardo's malevolent Empire would begin firing their weapons the moment their nose-mounetd telescopes picked up the reflected light and their radar scopes received a return of the winged rockets form...and using the relatively short ranged weapons they carried, their maximum range was still three dozen of kilometers!

Imagine it! Weapons normally used to fire at a tank visible across a field, but shot at a target of approximately the same sized, but so far away that had it been on Earth, it would be far over the horizon, impossible for any scope or weapon to strike save for the most mighty artillery pieces!

The robot rockets followed their simple mechanical programming -- sighting their weapons along the vector predicted by their magneto-calculators -- and then began to fire. Streams of glittering green pyrotechnics shot towards the winged rocket...

The past!

They snaked by, silent and beautiful in the deadly depths of space!

Were our heroines saved? No...such inaccuracies were not unexpected by the imperial engineers that crafted the fiendish fast attack vehicles. Their camera systems reported the streams of greenish light and, using complex magneto-calculations far beyond Earth science, they adjusted the trajectory of their weapons, gears and pullies ticking and adjusting the angle of the guns and, so, changing the arc of the sinuous lines of pyrotechnic tracers.

Each tracer was a shell, and each shell spelled death for Jasmine Starr and Claudette Grant!

The robot rockets whipped past the winged rocket -- their reaction mass tanks emptied, their bodies consigned eternally to drift in the vastness of space, lost like sailors sent to their deaths by their cruel captain. But their projectiles continued to whip towards the winged rocket -- and yet, still, they missed, again and again...

Until, at last, the final whip-like undulation of two of the robot rocket's sneak attack intersected with the tiny glint on the Dominion's radar-scopes that represented the absconded winged rocket!

The glint...

Went out.

Vile smirked slowly.

"What shall we tell the Emperor, my lord?" Lieutenant Skar whispered to Vile on the bridge.

"We shall say that the would be queen tragically lost her life when she cut into a steam tank...foolishly..." Vile said, nodding, shaking her head. "It is even the truth. After a fashion."

He turned from the screen and strode away, towards his command throne.

"Thus is the end...of Jasmine Starr!"

TO BE CONTINUED!