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Part One
1
The first thing Bea Stoc—Senior Lieutenant Bea Stoc of the Centauri Expeditionary Force—became aware of was the enormous phallus dangling in front of her face. She blinked in confusion as well as from the sudden and unexpected burst of heat from between her legs. Her body had apparently recognized what she was seeing before her conscious mind could. For a moment, it didn’t even look like a penis, it was so enormous. All she saw was this massive, downward-pointing tube, so thick and immense it looked vaguely eel-like. It’s alive, the Centauri officer thought, seeing a quiver run through the huge member, and then her mouth went dry as a realization of what she was seeing came to her.
It was so big, and it wasn’t even fully erect!
Her initial misidentification—her confusion over the matter—was understandable. The last thing Bea recalled was being on board The Flags of Centauri Independence. They had arrived at last at the Epsilon Indi system, but someone was attacking them, and then . . . ? Nothing. She had just woken up, and suddenly there was a giant penis in her face!
The color of the penis in question might also have been a factor to consider. The shade was unusual enough to give any woman pause. The enormous, magnificently shaped organ that had Bea so unexpectedly hot and dry-mouthed was a bright, bright red.
Not engorged red. Not pinkishly flush, either.
Red, as in crimson red . . . ruby red . . . sin red.
Red.
Bea gasped. The giant scrotum—it was seeing this thick, delicious-looking pouch for what it was that did the trick for Bea—was also a deep crimson, as were the mammoth, muscled thighs framing both.
She heard a voice above her. “Good. You’re awake. We can begin.”
It was a masculine voice, a deep and penetrating voice. Another rush of heat passed through Bea.
Absurdly, the thought came that even though she didn’t recognize the language, she understood exactly what had been said to her. Bea looked up, slowly, still feeling stunned, eyes widening as they took in a powerful, muscular, and very red abdomen and chest.
Her eyes met the glittering, amber eyes of the man towering over her, and she screamed before he even put his hands on her. “No! Let me go! No!!”
Again, a part of her knew the words she spoke were not Centauran, that they were uttered in another language. But that was the least of her concerns. Bea’s instinct was to hit back. It was only when the giant grabbed her, when she tried to resist, with a dumb realization not at all appropriate for an officer of her training and rank, that she recognized that her wrists were bound above her head, and she couldn’t budge them. She was chained to a bed which pressed warmly against her bare back and buttocks.
The giant held the naked officer in place with his body. She was helpless. He proceeded to take her.
“NO! NO!!” She struggled, fruitlessly. The man’s weight and strength were the greater by far.
Bea tried to bite, she tried to kick, but she felt feverish, and somehow the strength that she had always prided herself on was gone. She felt the giant’s massive shaft brush against her dampening sex. Such a raw surge of sensation passed through her that for a moment Bea felt she would burst into flame.
The experience was as frightening as it was enthralling.
The giant ran his hands over Bea’s flesh. His fingers brushed her engorged nipples. His index and middle fingers slid around her tight little peaks and squeezed. The rest of the hand petted, kneaded, caressed. Bea gasped, unable to explain how wonderful that masterful stroking felt, how receptive her breasts and nipples had become under her assailant’s touch.
The giant’s fingers, dampened with his own precum, lingered over Bea’s lips. She tasted it. She tasted him. The disgusting fluid assaulted her lips. Bea felt her legs part as if of their own accord.
She moaned helplessly.
She tried to close her thighs, but before she could, he inserted a grasping hand between them. His touch there was like the Triple Suns themselves. Each fingertip was a burning nova. Each trail left its own stellar track. The giant’s mouth pressed down on her own, and Bea kissed him hungrily, shocked at herself, disgusted with her inappropriate fervor. Her lips opened wide to accept his tongue. Bea arched her back, eagerly pressing her soft bosom into her rapist’s rocky chest.
What’s wrong with me? she thought. Why . . why am I acting like this?
She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help feeling what she was feeling. Her blood was burning. Her pussy was wet and needful. Her struggles were as much an attempt to free herself from her assailant’s grip as they were to push herself deeper into it. Her moans were as much calls for him to stop as they were calls for him to continue, please. One petting hand traced along her stomach. The other, at her sex, Bea found herself desperately writhing upon. The tip of his cock the giant held steady, like a monstrous club. It pushed inward at the Centauri officer, barely penetrating, barely inside her.
He was actually keeping her from impaling herself on his massive shaft, delaying her, teasing her. Bea whimpered. He was so big, she was afraid he would tear her up inside.
She groaned. “Please,” she begged. Did she want him to stop? Or did she want him to skewer her with his magnificent weapon? “Please,” she whispered again. It was, at best, an ambiguous plea.
The giant moved his shaft back and forth, pulling back as she inched forward. Inside just a little, then a withdraw. He reached out, reached inside, stroked Bea’s clit, rubbing it, rubbing her, making her burn.
She felt his other hand in her hair, taking hold, controlling her, making her feel even hotter.
More hot cum was pressed upon her lips. She licked at her assailant’s fingers now. She marveled at the exquisite taste of his fluids. How could she have thought it was disgusting? It was the most marvelous taste in the universe!
Bea had closed her eyes. They opened now spontaneously. Long and silky black strands slipped over her face. For Bea, this was an exceedingly strange and noteworthy thing.
It was noteworthy because her hair was, and always had been, quite blond and short.
Impulsively, Bea tilted her head up, away from her painfully joyful assault to the top of the bed. What she saw there caused her breath to stop. She stopped. Stopped struggling. Stopped thinking.
The giant’s touch continued to play over her all the while. Bea’s body responded to his advances automatically, squirming. Her hands, she observed, distantly. Her hands bound in chains above her head. Those were not her hands. Those were not her arms. That was not her hair she saw.
Those were thin, lovely, and red hands she saw. Those were red arms, supple and bound in chains. It was black hair she saw, not blond: silky, black hair, glossy and fine, like a fall of liquid ebony.
The hands she saw, so red: they were thinner than her own hands. They were red hands that would fit well and comfortably in the larger and stronger grip of a man’s hands, especially this giant man’s.
Even as she writhed, Bea’s gaze trailed along their red and supple length.
Her eyes, so amber, widened in shock and recognition.
A dainty, and under different circumstances, rather cute, gasp surfaced from her mouth. Bea’s eyes widened even further at the soft and exquisitely feminine noise she made.
Involuntarily, she looked down again, around, at herself and at her transformed body.
“Nooo! What’s happened to me? What have you done to me!?”
She was red, like her assailant. Smaller, but just as red, and beautiful.
She was red . . crimson red . . ruby red . . sin red.
Red.
The giant responded to Bea’s outcry not in voice but in action. He started thrusting into her at last, using leisurely petting motions that seemed to reach past her skin and into her soul. His mouth raked down Bea’s enflamed body. He used his teeth to pinch the flesh of her breasts and stomach. He played with her wet lower lips, spreading open her labia and licking, licking. He played with her clit.
Like a musical instrument, the giant drew satisfying noises from Senior Lieutenant Stoc, exquisitely feminine groans of surprise and delight. It was impossible that anyone could be touched like that, Bea felt, that anyone could be made to feel like that. The unrefined, animalistic joy threatened to overwhelm her senses.
Bea’s resistance faded, if resistance she had ever shown. She longed for her rape. She longed for her assailant to complete her, to give her what she so desperately needed.
Slowly, purposefully, the red giant sank into her. His fingers outlined the shape of Bea’s crotch. His fingers pulled at her, opening her, making her salivate. Her mouth licked and kissed at him, hungrily.
Her hips pushed upward, ever upward. By this time, she was fully participating in her assault. She no longer cared. That she was red like him, that she had been transformed somehow, transformed into a little red slut to complement his giant red physique, no longer concerned her. It couldn’t concern her.
She was being used.
She was enjoying being used.
She could taste her rapist. She could taste his seed on her lips, and his seed tasted so gooood!
He was so hard, too, so hard and so big and so powerful, and she was so weak and needy. His skin pressed into hers. It was like fire. He continued to play with her defenseless body.
Just when Bea felt she couldn’t take anymore, her assailant finally buried himself within her. She screamed. Hot cum flew. Bea’s cunt all but exploded with sensation. He thrust again, and suddenly he was deep inside her, all of him, inside her, the immensity of him, filling her, stretching her, and she was squeezing her flesh around his, holding him, milking him for his cum. The pleasure rolled through her.
“Yes!!” she screamed. “Oh, yes, fuck me! Fuck me!! Fuck meeee!!”
The giant shot his load into the helplessly spasming Centauri officer, pumping, pumping, and Bea held on to him with her legs, her tight sex wrapped around his.
It happened then. He decided it was the time.
The red giant withdrew partially, expertly. Bea whimpered. Then he thrust into her, again, with a single, practiced stroke. Bea’s eyes opened wide.
She found him staring into them. Their faces were but millimeters apart.
She simply erupted.
The maelstrom of sensation drew Bea inside. Everything around her seemed to disappear in the blinding seizure her assailant induced, that conquered her utterly, drowned her in an agonizing and seemingly endless pool of ecstasy. She was submerged in pure pleasure, and it just wouldn’t stop.
Her climax was explosive. Like the leading charge of a series of linked detonations, like falling dominoes, her first orgasm set off a second, and then a third, then one after the other, each mighty climax pulling Bea deeper and deeper within herself, all as her red conqueror held her within his arms.
“I can’t take it! I can’t! I can’t!!” she screamed at last.
“You must,” the giant replied simply, patiently. His voice was the voice of a god.
Bea clenched about her master’s shaft. He grunted roughly, succinctly, brief in comparison to her ongoing screams of submission. The Betan woman, on her back, folded her legs up and around the man on top of her. She thrust her hips towards his, matching the rhythm of his penetration. As she did, she continued to gasp helplessly, never feeling so much like a woman before in her life.
She had never felt so full in her life, so completely and utterly invaded. It felt as if his cock had gone all the way up into her chest, that it was fondling the bottom of her heart with its tip. She squeezed her legs about his waist, trying to pull him down further atop her, into her. It was painful, but so very pleasurable. She climaxed again, feeling small and helpless and used. It was very, very good.
The giant stroked Bea’s newly scarlet breasts, her crimson clit, and, wonder for wonder, there was yet more passion to be stolen from her! The giant cupped his hands across Bea’s bottom. He slid his hands to the small of her back and raised her hips, positioning her for another colossal penetration. She had become nothing more than his toy. She was barely able to move on her own, let alone resist, as he took her further and further into absolute submission. His tongue slid across an acutely sensitive nipple.
A brush of the man’s shaft ran across her pubis. A kiss, burning, burning. Bea writhed. Even her voice grew exhausted. “I can’t,” she muttered. “I . . I can’t . . .”
But she could. He made her. He made her respond to his entreaties until all thought had fled her, and she was an animal, a mindless thing, a seizing pleasure vessel in every sense of the expression.
“Aaaaiiiihhhhh!!”
Bea became her vagina. She became her orgasm. She was nothing else. Beneath her master’s body, Bea felt her identity, her very sense of self, collapse inward, and then all pleasure enveloped her.
Her last climax was the end of worlds. Planets cracked. A sun somewhere exploded.
Bea’s eyes rolled up inside her head, and she fainted.
In the timeless afterglow of that final, cataclysmic fucking, things became distorted. Bea, regaining consciousness, had difficulty remembering what was happening to her. She became woozy. The sensation manifested not as a sense of impending nausea but rather an inability to focus. She became distracted, fuzzy-headed. The next thing the Centauri officer knew, the giant was lying beside her, his brilliant red skin pressing against her own brilliant red skin. He was whispering commands in her ear.
“You are a slave,” he said to her softly.
Bea could not speak. She could not respond.
The words reverberated without resistance within her psyche. I am a slave, she thought helplessly.
“You were born to be a slave. You were born to please men.”
The words, they echoed: You are a slave . . . You were born to be a slave . . . You were born to please men . . . please men . . . men . . . .
“Yes,” she whispered finally, unable not to. “I was born to please men.”
“You want to please men.” It was an order. Bea obeyed it.
“I want to please men.” She interpreted the words dreamily.
“You are a slave,” her red conqueror repeated. “Pleasing men is your greatest desire.”
“Pleasing . . . pleasing men is my greatest desire.”
He touched her pussy. “Pleasing men makes you hot. You are hot.”
“Pleasing men makes me hot. I am hot.” And she was, again, the need this man had reminded her of even stronger than before. Hotter. Bea squirmed.
“Please . . . please, take me.” She was burning with resparked desire.
“You are a hot and needy slave.” He was petting her damp sex now. He was once again inserting his fingers inside her.
“I am . . . a slave. I am a slave.” She squirmed; she writhed; she pulled futilely on her chains.
“You need to be fucked.”
“I need to be fucked!” She definitely did, again.
Bea turned and twisted within her master’s arms, moaning louder and louder. “I need to be fucked! Please, Master, please!! Fuck your slave!!”
And so the crimson giant did. He thrust his penis into Bea’s open and begging mouth. She swallowed him without thinking and nearly gagged on his massive girth.
Still and all, the taste of the giant’s delicious fluids ignited the back of her throat.
Bea had never held a man’s organ in her mouth before. She had no measure by which to gauge the experience. All she knew was that her Master’s seed tasted divine, and her heat and her wanting of him increased with every drop that spilled out onto her tongue. She sucked at the treasure he forced on her.
Bea’s Master put a hand in her newly black hair and twisted it, using it to pull her head closer.
Her lips stretched improbably around the huge organ. Her jaws actually unhinged in a way they had never been able to before. Despite his immensity, Bea somehow took the whole of the giant in. She began to move her head back and forth before him, and guided by his hand she continued to provide suction, both for his pleasure and her own.
The taste . . . his taste was like nothing else. Each drop of his cum elicited a pleasurable sensation.
She was sucking ambrosia. She was drinking heaven.
Bea’s eyes closed in her mindless sucking, and soon enough she climaxed again, feeling the same drug-like giddiness coursing through her, the good feeling making her lightheaded and susceptible.
“You are a slave,” her Master was soon enough whispering in her ear, into her mind, unto her soul.
She could not ignore his commands.
In her post-orgasmic trance, Bea was as open as a book. With his so excellent seed, her Master wrote himself into the pages of her mind.
“You are a slave. You are my slave. You want to please men. You want to please me.”
Yes . . yes . . yes . . , Bea thought. . . . I am a slave . . . I want to please men . . . I want to please my Master . . . I am his slave.
“You need to be fucked. You need to serve. You want to serve. Serving is your greatest pleasure.”
Bea nodded, repeating the words, cementing them in her mind.
At that moment, she had no doubts. She was a slave. She had been born to be a slave. She had been born to please men. The words—the commands—shaped her thoughts: slave . . . I am a slave . . . hot . . . pleasing . . . I am a slave . . . I enjoy serving my Master’s pleasure . . . . Over and over.
Bea felt her Master get up and release her arms.
With cum still running down her lips and chin, Bea’s Master flipped his slave over and began stroking her moist slit from behind. She began moaning at once, yearning to be penetrated again.
Gone at that moment were her years of service and training in the Centauri Space Forces.
Gone was her moral Hereditarian upbringing.
Bea was only a red hot slut—literally—in dire need of fucking.
“Please, Master!” she begged. “Please!”
Unable to stop herself, Bea licked at the corners of her mouth, straining for that delicious seed. Each drop on her tongue only strengthened her desire for more. Her giant of a Master inserted his fingers inside her cunt again. She squeezed her pussy muscles around them, still moaning and whimpering.
“Please, Master!”
It was good to be filled. But what she really needed was his cock inside her, not just his fingers!
“Please, Master! I’ll do anything for you, Master! Use your slave! Please, fuck your slave, Master!”
She felt on the verge of another titan series of orgasms. Her Master ran his hands along the inside of Bea’s thighs. She spread her legs for him. She lifted her ass high and prepared herself to be taken like a beast. Reveling in his authority over her, the red giant slowly reentered the fallen Betan woman.
“Oh, Maaasterrrr!” she groaned, as her body stretched abnormally wide to accept him. His hands slipped over her bosom, which felt much heavier than before. Like the rest of her body, Bea had been changed up top as well. A large red hand slipped around each newly enlarged breast, caressing.
The slave marveled at how comfortable, how powerful, a man’s hands on her body could feel.
Bea’s Master thrust deep, deeper, deeper. Her legs spread wider, ass cheeks wider, soul wider.
Her Master leaned down over her, his chest to her slim back.
“You are a slave. You . . are . . my . . slave!”
“Yes, Master!!” Bea exclaimed. “Yes, Master! Yes! Yes!! YES!!!”
Her pussy clenched about his organ. She was forced again to accommodate his powerful cadence.
“You feel good,” her Master said. “You enjoy being used.”
“I do! I do, Master! I do! I DO!!”
She climaxed once more, then, and again, her orgasms making her cry out in transcendent pleasure and a newfound understanding of herself. She was a slave. She was her Master’s slave.
Bea wanted to serve him because serving him was the greatest pleasure a slave like her could have.
Her Master grunted his release. He withdrew his cock and flipped her over again. His strength was as great as his build indicated. He handled Bea as if she were a doll. She felt like his little doll.
His stamina, like his strength, was beyond measure. Already his magnificent cock was hardening again.
Taking hold of Bea’s thighs, he drove inside her, and she kissed him, kissed his chest, kissed his face, licked at him like a hungry animal. She could never have enough of his flesh. She would do anything for his use. She would be anything for him. Her huge breasts pressed deeply up into his massive frame.
He brought his face close to hers. Her mouth opened, straining, yearning for a kiss, needy of it.
Bea strained for her Master. Her back arched with her raw and primitive wanting of him.
It was for this reason, then, when he stopped, still inside her, the incompletion of her passion was indescribably horrible.
He stopped. He stopped fucking her. Straddling her, the giant gripped Bea by the face and forced her to look directly at him. It was hard. It was like looking into the face of the Holy Sovereign himself.
“Are you a slave?” the red man asked.
“Yes! Yes, Master. I am a slave!” Bea could no longer deny this fact of nature.
Another squeeze. Another kiss. A touch there. A touch here. Oh, yes, she was definitely a slave!
“Whose slave?”
“Your slave, Master! I am your slave!”
His hands increased the speed with which they were enflaming her body. “Is that all you are, girl?”
“Master, please!!
His hands slowed. Bea’s next release was but seconds away. Milliseconds away!
“Oh, please, please, don’t stop, Master!”
“Answer me. Is a slave all that you are?”
“Yes! YES!! Master. YES!!!”
His hands moved away, denying release. Bea’s body was on fire. Her skin was molten. Her heart was blazing.
“Good,” her Master said, satisfied. He smiled then for the first time. “In that case, you will now tell me who you are and why you came to be on my planet.” And he looked at Bea expectantly.
She held nothing back.
She told him everything.