Page 10 of Vabar

Now I don’t know what he’s referring to. My brows scrunch together without me opening my eyes.

Vabar releases my breast to slide his hand down my belly, continuing until he’s able to cup my private parts between my legs.

I want to scream. In a way, I am screaming. The sound is muffled by the bit, but in my head it’s loud.

Vabar drags a finger through the folds at my entrance. “She’s dripping wet,” he comments, his voice soft.

“It’s normal,” Yamal responds as he twists his finger inside my butt. “Her body is aligning with yours. Most likely, she’s never experienced pleasure. None of the humans I’ve examined so far have ever masturbated or orgasmed. They aren’t familiar with the concept. Each time you touch her intimately, she will grow more desperate.”

I can’t follow what he’s talking about no matter how hard I try. Most of what he’s saying is foreign. It’s English, but many of the words are not in my vocabulary. Somehow, these men know more of my own language than I do. No, that’s not it. It’s that the collar is translating the words for me.

Suddenly, Vabar’s finger taps some part of me that makes me rear my head back. Something so sensitive that the knot in my stomach clenches tightly.

“This is your pussy, Little pet. Sometimes, I’ll refer to it as your cunt. Both words work. The little bundle of nerves that’s making your blood pressure go through the roof is called your clitoris. Your clit. You will feel good when I touch it.” He circles the swollen nub and then pinches it gently.

I’m panting. Drool is running down my chin, soaking the hammock. I need something elusive I can’t name.

When Yamal removes his finger from my bottom, I shudder.

Vabar continues to fondle me, driving me bananas. But then he stops.

I open my eyes to watch him sucking his finger. My eyes bug out. He’s licking my, my, my…body fluid from his hand.

“Mmm,” he murmurs. “Fuck, you taste good.” When he’s done, he looks over the top of me toward Yamal. “Do you have any anal plugs that are the right size for her body?”

“Yes. I can leave you with a graduated set. Start small and build up if she enjoys having her bottom plugged.”

“How long can she wear one at a time?”

“As long as you’d like. Just make sure you take it out frequently enough for her to empty her bowels.”

“Should I let her come?”

Come? What are they talking about? I can’t keep up. I’m still wrapping my head around the “anal plugs.” I’m quite sure I followed that conversation, and I’m too stunned to move to the next line of chatter.

“Whenever you’re ready, but you might be better served keeping her on edge for a while first. Her desperation will help you train her.”

“On the other hand,” Vabar says, tapping his lips, “once she’s had a taste of nirvana, she might be even more inclined to obey me.”

“Also true. It’s a toss-up. I’ll leave you with a bottle of suppositories and a set of anal plugs. Let’s get a diaper on her before her bowels move.”

SEVEN

I want to struggle. My mind tells me to kick and scream. But instead, I’m slightly numb and trembling violently as these two Venkorian aliens release me from my bonds.

My nipples tingle, and that spot—whatever a clit is—between my legs is pulsing. I can’t focus on anything but the way Vabar touches me. I don’t feel any tingling when Yamal brushes against my skin. Just Vabar.

“Can you smell her arousal?” Vabar asks Yamal.

“I can scent it, but it does nothing for me,” he says softly. “Her bond is with you. She’s also not affected by my touch. Just yours.”

Vabar releases my wrists and detaches me from the ceiling, while Yamal removes the cuffs from my ankles and waist. Yamal is right. His touch is more annoying than anything else.

Vabar scoops me up and cradles me in his arms, surprising me. He glances at Yamal again. “But she enjoyed your finger in her bottom.”

Yamal shakes his head. “No, she enjoyed you stroking her nipples, which caused other sensations to heighten.”

The bit is still in my mouth, and I reach for it, hoping to tug it out, but Vabar wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls my arm away without a word. A simple action someone else might miss.