Three Square Meals Ch. 133

John wasted no time straddling the accommodating Nymph, deactivating his strength to make sure he wouldn't hurt her. He was careful to support the weight of his upper body on his outstretched arms, then leaned down to bury his face in her luxurious mane of jet-black hair. She moaned in approval, then slipped her slender fingers underneath his hands so she could intertwine them with his.

Marika suddenly shifted position, arching her back and stretching out, their fingers still interlaced together. The movement caught John completely by surprise and he was shocked at just how strong the Nymph had become, manoeuvring him with the barest minimum of effort. He found himself lying flat on Marika's back, his entire bodyweight resting directly on top of her.

"Marika! I'm going to squash you like this!" he exclaimed in alarm.

Instead of showing any distress, she purred contentedly, gently swaying back and forth almost as if she were rocking him. Her long tail curled around his shaft, stroking up and down and squeezing rhythmically to test his hardness.

He chuckled and forced himself to relax, realising that this was exactly what she wanted. Taking a moment to savour this unique position, he appreciated the feeling of total domination it evoked, his larger body completely covering hers. John would never have dreamed of letting a girl carry his entire weight like this, but as Marika had so deftly proven, she was phenomenally strong and effortlessly bore the burden.

"This feels amazing," he whispered in her ear. Raising his hips a few inches, he continued, "Guide me inside you, honey."

The Nymph's body began to heat up, Marika responding with arousal as he eagerly embraced her seduction. Her sinuous tail tilted the broad head of his throbbing cock into position, then John pushed into her hot buttery depths, hearing her let out a deep moan of approval. He didn't stop until he was fully ensconced inside her glorious body, his quad cradled between her silky-smooth thighs.

"Your ass is incredible," John said with an appreciative groan, pressing his groin against her curved cheeks. They had a plump firmness to them that drove him crazy, the perfect pillow for him to thrust against. "I was crazy not to take you like this sooner..."

Marika whimpered with ecstasy, her body responding to her master's unabashed enjoyment and rewarding her with a thrilling climax. John smiled with satisfaction as she gasped and cried out, her gorgeous body bucking against him with the intensity of her orgasm. He'd become the galactic expert on pleasuring Nymphs, knowing that the more he indulged himself, the greater sense of euphoria she'd experience.

Losing track of time, he immersed himself in the sensual delights Marika offered him. She was so willing and eager to please, her body moving with his in an erotic horizontal dance that was as intimate as anything he'd known before. John embraced her languid sexuality, truly appreciating just how unique this beautiful girl was and how incredibly lucky he was that she was his. She cried out in wonder at his reaction, her body trembling with bliss, Marika's snug depths rhythmically stroking his shaft.

"I'm getting close," he panted, nuzzling into her thick mane and kissing her cheek.

She turned her head to kiss him back and moaned wantonly into his mouth as her body expertly massaged his pumping shaft. With a final disbelieving groan, John buried himself up to the quad in the gyrating Nymph, then felt his climax explode. He was seeing stars as he pumped his load into her belly, teetering on the brink of consciousness his orgasm was that strong.

With a final groan, John collapsed onto her back, exhausted after the strenuous effort. Despite Marika's identical state of sexual serenity, she seemed perfectly comfortable with him lying on top of her like that. The Nymph was warm and soft, and tremendously comforting to rest against. Making no effort to move, John relaxed where he was, letting the Nymph's rhythmic breathing lull him to sleep.

***

When John awoke, he found himself lying on his side with his arms around Marika. A soft brown light swept across the ceiling, the pulses emanating from the Nymph's rounded belly. He let his hand drift down to caress her cum-filled stomach, drawing a soft purr of contentment from the catgirl at his gentle touch.

"That was beyond wonderful, John," she murmured in a breathy whisper.

"I've never experienced anything like that before," he marvelled, kissing her dusky shoulder. "It was an amazing combination of passion and absolute submission... yet incredibly caring and supportive at the same time."

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," she said softly, turning to gaze up at him with a tender look of devotion. "I wanted to celebrate choosing you to be my Master in a special way."

"Do you understand the difference now?" he asked, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek. "All I ever wanted was for you to be able to choose the life you want for yourself, rather than being forced into slavery without your consent."

She nodded, giving him a lovely smile. "I do understand. I choose to spend the rest of my life assisting you, Master."

John hesitated, suddenly unsure if she was really capable of making this decision. "Marika... you don't have to just do whatever I want. I'd like you to be able to choose your own destiny."

The silver-striped Nymph gave him a knowing smile. "We want the same thing, John." She interlaced her fingers with his and held them over her rounded abdomen. "You want to rebuild the Nymph population... and I want to spend the rest of my life carrying and nurturing your kittens. There's nothing in the galaxy I desire more."

He reverently stroked her tummy, just imagining what it would be like to breed the gorgeous exotic woman over and over again. "I want that too, Marika. You're going to be an incredible mother."

She responded with a lovely maternal smile, her face lighting up in a way that made her look radiantly beautiful.

Marika suddenly giggled, her feline eyes shining with amusement. "I know you've been waiting weeks for me to make this decision... but the first time I tasted your virility, I knew I'd never leave you. Ever. For any reason."

"Being pregnant means that much to you?" he asked, feeling a flicker of disappointment that it was her sole reason for choosing to stay with him.

"Being pregnant to a man I love with all my heart and soul," she replied earnestly. "The only thing that changed over the weeks, was that I developed enough to realise that you truly were a good man. I no longer love you because I'm a Nymph... and forced to worship you with blind obsession. I love you because you're so kind and caring... and will make an exceptional father."

He was moved by Marika's sincerity and gave her a tender kiss. "Thank you, that means a lot. I love you too... and I promise I'll try my hardest to be the kind of parent our children deserve."

"I know you will, Master," she said with a smile of satisfaction, snuggling into his arms. "I'll eagerly await the day when we can start our family... but until then, I choose to fight at your side and assist you in any way that secures your victory."

"You're an amazing girl, Marika," he said, holding her tight. "I honestly couldn't be more pleased with the incredible person you've become."

Marika shivered with delight, her eyelashes fluttering as she trembled in his arms. Looking up at him with a flicker of regret in her eyes, she said, "I wish I could stay with you like this all day... but I have hungry tummies to feed."

"Ailita and Jehanna?" he asked, brushing his fingertips over her impressive cum-packed curves.

She nodded, then looked him in the eyes. "Thank you for helping my sister. I know Ailita doesn't understand what you're doing for her at the moment, but one day she will... and she'll feel the same way about you that the rest of us do."

John released her and helped the grateful Nymph sit up. "I know that seeing Ailita behave the way she does was a shock for Neysa; did it affect you like that too?"

"It was a shock for all of us," Marika quietly admitted. "We finally realised how much we'd all changed... and for the better."

"I couldn't agree more," John said with a smile as they got up from the bed. "I'm going to have a quick shower before lunch. Do you want to join me?"

Torn with indecision, Marika ran her hand over the precious cargo in her tummy. "I'd love to... but I don't want Jehanna or Ailita to go hungry."

"You're a good girl," he said with a fond smile at the selfless Nymph. "Go and feed your kittens."

Marika gave him a passionate kiss, then waved goodbye with a joyful smile. As she padded out of the Observatory with a sexy sway to her hips, Calara strode inside, a worried frown on her face.

"What's wrong?" John asked when he saw her pensive expression.

"I just had a report from the Kintark," she replied, tugging her T-shirt over her head, leaving her topless.

John blinked in surprise at her striptease coinciding with updates on an invasion.

"I'm your shower buddy," the Latina explained, stripping off the rest of her clothes. Walking towards the bathroom, she continued her report. "Brimorian scouts have been knocking out all the comms beacons ahead of the invasion force. It won't be long until we're completely cut off from all communications with the Kintark fleets."

"So you won't be able to direct them remotely," John reasoned aloud as he followed her into the shower cubicle.

Calara nodded, then tilted her head back as steamy water sluiced down over her gorgeous body. "Exactly. I've done what I can, but now they're on their own..."

***

Far away from the Invictus, on the opposite side of the Terran Federation, a bearded man disembarked from the passenger liner into Port Heracles. He adjusted his Stetson hat as he followed the line of civilians towards the customs checkpoint, pulling down the brim to shield his eyes from any retinal scans.

As the queue of people slowly progressed along the gantry, Ex-Admiral Oliver Petran glanced to the right, where a huge bank of holo-screens was showing a score of different channels. His gaze swept across the screens, looking for news broadcasts and searching for any sign that he was a wanted man. He paused as his eyes settled on a TFNN special report, then Oliver felt his stomach lurch when he saw what it was about.

The sound had been turned off, but the ticker-tape banner across the bottom of the screen made it quite clear what he was watching. "Ringleader of the Olympus terrorist attack identified and brought to justice!"

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry with fear. The images showed John Blake being interviewed by Jehanna Elani, standing before a glowing pile of rubble. Oliver recognised that stately home... or what was left of the once impressive structure, shrouded as it was by the perpetual gloom of Mazaya. He didn't need the reporter to tell him that the Lion of the Federation had just razed Arjun Khatri's home to the ground. A glance at the corpses strewn across the lawn also spoke volumes as to the fate of his co-conspirator.

"Boarding pass and ID," the T-Fed soldier at the checkpoint muttered in a dull monotone.

"What?!" Oliver gasped, jumping nervously as he turned to stare at the customs official.

"Come on, buddy... you're holding up the line," the soldier grumbled. "Boarding pass and ID."

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Oliver reached for his documents and handed them to the bored squaddie.

Casting a disinterested glance over the boarding pass, the official scanned the ID, the device responding with an authoritative beep. Oliver Petran's disguised face appeared in a rotating hologram, the name: "Jason Holloway" displayed underneath his image.

"Welcome to Port Heracles, Mr. Holloway," the soldier intoned, not bothering to look at the fugitive as he handed back the documents.

Resisting the urge to sigh with relief, Oliver hurried into the space station, walking at a brisk pace. Port Heracles saw a lot of commerce with aliens, particularly from the minor empires located in the Trankaran Republic. The trading base was teeming with activity, all sorts of exotic creatures bustling about their business.

In his haste, Oliver trod on a Bract's shiny black segmented foot, making the beetle hiss in pain.

"You clod-footed bunghole!" it shrilled, mandibles clicking angrily.

"Sorry about that," he muttered, wincing as the insect's shriek drew unwanted attention from the nearby crowd.

Backing away from the vibrating, black-carapaced creature, he lurched into a long hover cart stacked high with multi-coloured glass jars.

The Ornalith driving the vehicle felt the impact and turned to face him. "Watch the merchandise!" it rumbled in its deep gravelly voice.

No longer watching where it was going, the alien driver bumped into a Terran merchant, knocking the man to the ground with a startled cry. Fruit spilled out from the trader's backpack, the purple spheres quickly trodden underfoot by the packed crowd.

"Are you blind? I'll have your driving licence revoked for this!" the dark-skinned man ranted, staggering to his feet. He heard the squelch of his fruit being crushed and let out an anguish cry. "My Betelgeuse melons!"

The Ornalith held up two of its three arms defensively. "It wasn't my fault!" the stocky alien protested. The third arm pointed directly at Oliver. "He barged into me!"

"Do you know how much they cost me?" the trader snarled, rounding on the fugitive admiral. "You owe me 500 credits!"

"Look... it was a simple accident. I'll be happy to pay for them," Oliver said, holding up both hands in a placating gesture.

"Fine... and I want another 500 for my knee," the angry merchant demanded, pointing to his injured leg as he hobbled closer.

Oliver quickly nodded. "Of course... let me just transfer you some money."

Eyes narrowed with suspicion, the trader pulled out a silvery stick from his pocket. Oliver keyed in 1000 credits on his own chit, then swiped it across the trader's. Rather than a quiet beep confirming the transfer, there was a dull clang as the payment was rejected.

"Hey... what are you trying to pull?" the merchant snapped indignantly. "Where's my thousand credits, you asshole?!"

Oliver looked at his credit chit in confusion. "I don't know... there should be plenty in there."

"Yeah, right," the trader snorted, looking at him sceptically. "I'm taking this to the authorities... you owe me for my melons!"

"Look, it's okay... I've got cash," Oliver said in a rush. He pulled out a 10,000 credstick from his pocket and thrust it into the angry merchant's hand. "Take this!"

The man glanced down at the credstick with suspicion, then his eyes widened in shock. "What the hell?!" he exclaimed, looking stunned at the amount.

Oliver hurried off into the crowd, ignoring the merchant's startled thanks. The ex-Admiral had over 80 million credits stashed away in a dozen secret accounts, so paying off some enraged idiot ten-thousand was a small price to pay to get him out of his face. As he climbed up a staircase to the level above the main trading concourse, Oliver glanced down at his credit chit in confusion, wondering why the transaction had failed. Tapping his account access code into the interface, a flashing blue error message appeared on the tiny holo-screen, warning him to update the device at an ATM.

Cursing the device in frustration, he glanced up and down the walkway and spotted a banking service kiosk. Hurrying over a bridge, he reached the machine and slid his credit chit into the slot, then waited impatiently as it synced with the Terran Federation banking exchange. The seconds ticked by as it made the connection, then the account details popped up, owned by his pseudonym, Jason Holloway.

Account Balance: 0 credits.

Oliver gaped at the holographic display in disbelief. There should have been over five million credits in that bank account alone. His fingers trembled as he keyed in a request to see the recent transactions, then he frantically scrolled past the payment for the flight he'd booked on the passenger liner and the dozens of minor transactions he'd made on his journey. Reaching the next page, he froze when he saw the final entry.

Balance transfer: -5,672,456 credits.

"The Lion Foundation thanks you for your kind donation. Your generosity will help fund orphanages throughout the Terran Federation, giving hope and a fresh start to thousands of young children."

Looking at the message in horror, he exited the account and entered the next set of account details.

Account Balance: 0 credits.

"The Lion Foundation thanks you for your donation."

Overcome with dread, he frantically checked every account he owned.

"The Lion Foundation thanks you for your donation."

"The Lion Foundation thanks you for your donation."

"The Lion Foundation thanks you for your donation."

All twelve accounts had been ransacked, even those hidden under different aliases, with the entirety of his assets donated to the Lion Foundation. Oliver Petran no longer had a single credit to his name.

"No!" he screamed in fury, hurling the useless credit chit across the concourse.

A flashing message appeared on the holo-display, a jaunty melody drawing his attention. Oliver stared at the screen with bulging eyes, still reeling from the shock of being robbed of his vast fortune. Shaking with rage he tapped the message from an "Azure_superuser".

The message expanded and a video began to play, showing Arjun Khatri gibbering in horror, the traitorous admiral on the brink of madness as everything he loved was destroyed. He was suddenly immolated in glowing blue flames, his tortured shriek of agony piercing straight through Oliver Petran and chilling him to the bone.

A message scrolled across the screen as the image froze on Khatri's burning face.

"Run and hide, Petran... you're next!"

He stumbled backwards, never feeling more terrified in his life. Quaking with fear, he turned and fled, imagining being subjected to the horrific fate that had befallen Khatri. Oliver ran full-tilt across the bridge, desperate to evade his pursuers who would now know exactly where he was.

In a dreadful moment of clarity, Oliver suddenly realised that he had no chance of hiding from the Lion's wrath. With no money to help his escape, it was only a matter of time until the long arm of the Terran Federation caught up to him. He'd spend his last days before he was captured skulking in the gutter, terrified of his own shadow... like one of the miserable peons that he'd held in contempt during all his years in the Admiralty.

Skidding to a halt atop the bridge, he looked out across the trading station with tears streaming down his cheeks, wondering how it had all gone so disastrously wrong. He clambered up onto the balcony and ignoring the startled cries from onlookers, leapt off the raised walkway and plunged fifty metres to the concourse below. Oliver Petran crashed into the back of the Ornalith's hover-cart, his body sliced to ribbons by the glass bottles he smashed with his fall.

By the time a medic had been called and reached his mangled body, the ex-Admiral was long dead, having bled to death from a thousand cuts. His unseeing eyes stared into the distance, still reflecting the terror of his last moments.

***

"Shoal Master! We've found them!" a Wave-squire on Comms called out, his burbling voice ringing out in triumph across the Command Deck. "Our scouts have located a Kintark fleet!"

Shoal Master Kaelotegh looked up from his scrutiny of the invasion corridor, his dark eyes narrowing with predatory anticipation. "Show me."

The holographic map shifted focus, centring on a host of very low-energy sensor contacts lurking in the middle of a broad asteroid belt. The Brimorian leader was surprised to see that it was located close to the invading Enclave forces, rather than near the Kintark homeworld.