“Get me very wet.” He told her in a husky whisper.

“Yes, Master.” She said as she reached under herself to press him against her aching slit.

One of his hands reached forward gathering her scarlet hair in a fist. As he ground his hips against her firm ass, he pulled back making her look up to the ceiling.

She moaned, “Oh, Master, please…”

His other hand went to her hip, hot fingers digging into soft flesh. He could feel his shaft getting drenched from the contact with her, he slid easily along her opening. His eyes devoured her curvy figure, breast squashed against the gurney, narrowing to a thinner but softly padded waist, and flaring out again with healthy meaty hips. She wasn’t rail thin, but had plenty of flesh to grab on to while still having a figure so alluring it was difficult not to get hard at the sight of her.

She shoved him with her fingers, and he slid easily inside her drenched cunt. She howled loudly, “Master, yes!”

Kaster couldn’t help but groan. He slammed his hips forward against her and she squealed. Pulling back on her hair he stabbed into her again. And then again, wanting to lose himself in her grasping folds.

“Bad girl.” He hissed as he pounded away at her, “I didn’t tell you to guide me in.”

“Oh, Master,” she moaned, “I’m so needy for you. Fuck your little slave girl.”

He withdrew as she cried out. Releasing her hair, he reached down and pulled her cheeks apart.

“What did I tell you?”

She slammed her ass back into his hips, hoping to impale herself on him. Disappointed she replied in a bratty tone, “That I wouldn’t dare.”

He ground his cock between her cheeks, letting her juices run off of him and onto her as a type of lube. “I said I’d punish you, didn’t I?”

Thrusting back her tone remained defiant, “No, Master. You said you would beat me senseless.”

Using a thumb, he pressed his cockhead against her sphincter. “Are you calling your master a liar?”

“No! Master. I would never. I was simply explaining how I recalled the events without the benefit of analgesics that you were enjoying.”

“Oh? So now I was too doped up and high to remember what I said?” He smacked her ass as she squealed again. “I do remember telling you not to penetrate me, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry, Master. I couldn’t bear the risk of having you exert yourself, and reopen wounds.”

“You were the one that woke me with your mouth. And now you are trying to turn this around as if I was the one that needed release?” He pressed his thumb again against his cockhead pushing the tip to her rosebud.

“I knew that release would help you relax, Master. The autodoc was out of nearly everything.”

“So, you treated me like a submissive to be penetrated?” He placed his thumb against her asshole, “Like this…”

“Oh! Master.”

He pushed against her and his thumb slipped in easily. There was resistance from the muscle itself, but there was already a thick coat of lubricant helping him ease inside her.

“What in the stars?” he asked as he slid his thumb inside her, surprised at how easily it moved.

“I’m sorry for not telling you, Master.” K’raa grunted out, “Hol Vydon had me augmented.”

“Augmented how?” He removed his thumb and pressed it against the other fingers on his hand. It slid across them easily.

“All his slaves receive lubricating glands in their anus. To help with anal.”

“He enjoyed fucking your ass?”

“No, Master. He enjoyed watching his servants fuck slave asses. His guards, aids, business partners. He never partook, just watched.”

An awkward silence descended. K’rra breathed heavily, squirming and needy. Her hands clutched at the gurney blankets.

“How many?” Kaster said coolly.

“Please, Master, I’m your slave now.”

“I asked you a question, slave. How many fucked your ass?” He looked down at what had been a forbidden delight just moments ago. Now it was just another hole. He pressed his hips forward grinding his shaft up along the valley of her cheeks.

“Oh. Master. Please, you feel so amazing.”

He smacked her ass harder than he ever had before, the crack sounding like a detonator blast.

“I asked how many.”

“I don’t know, Master. I was a slave. I had no say.” She cried, “If I’d known that I someday have such a sweet master I would have fought like a she-cat to save it just for you.”

He reached down and took his cock in hand like a knife blade. He aimed it at her and pressed in, letting her implanted lubricating glands ease him in. She howled in ecstasy as he sunk in filling her.

“Oh! Thank you, Master. Anything you want is yours.” K’rra began pressing back against him, massaging him with long slow strokes of her pale blue ass.

He couldn’t help but think of the disgusting creatures at dinner, all lined up to fuck his slave girl. He gripped her hips and pulled her back into him. She grunted painfully. He didn’t care, she’d done this, what? A hundred times? A thousand? The thought of that made him drive harder into her.

She tried matching him, her grunts and cries sounding anguished as he punished her ass. He drove into her, feeling disgusted that she felt so good, that she’d been trained to make this enjoyable for any and everyone. He wanted her to feel him, and so he rode her hard. Hammering away in her he was soon sweating and gasping for breath. Rage drove him on, slamming into her to hear every squeal and grunt as he abused her.

“Yes, Master, use me! I’m your slut. Your whore. Make me yours.” She screamed out between gasps for breath.

As he hammered her furiously he let his Focus slip out. He could feel her, the shame, the desire, she loved getting fucked, loved what she’d become, wanted to please him, but hated that her liberation had cost so much. She didn’t see her time sucking and fucking as dirty, but freeing. And now she wanted only him. Wanted to please him. Wanted to be his.

The feelings were so strong they overwhelmed Kaster. And that infuriated him. Made him angrier with every thrust. Made him want to hurt her. So that she would remember him forever. The one that fucked her harder than any before. Even if it broke her little cunt, or asshole, in two.

He pummeled her ass relentlessly, thinking only of himself, and his wounded pride. He would make her his. She gripped him tightly, but the lubricant made shoving into her all too easy.

“Please Master, may I cum?”

“Fuck me little whore.”

“Yes, Master.” She sobbed and threw herself back at him.

“Finger that bean.” He grunted at her.

“Yes, Master.” She began sighing, high pitches begging for release.

“And stuff those fingers up your hole,” he spat at her.

He felt her other hand bury itself in her cunt. She cried out, “Yes Master.”

The feel of her fingers through the thin walls of her cunt as he was buried inside her was just too much. He tipped back his head and screamed releasing violently inside her. He continued hammering away at her asshole forcing every drop of his cum in her. Even when done he continued stabbing into her and listening to her pained grunts.

Finally, he withdrew with a pop. He stood over her listening as her ass made angry sounds and spilled him down her thighs.

Kaster stomped out of the sick bay and to his bed, not even bothering to clean himself. He lay stiffly on top of the sheets and forced himself into slumber.

*****

When he woke there was a sheet over him. The ship rocked gently, he knew it had just entered atmosphere. He dressed quickly in loose pants, a long tunic, and a robe that was more cape. With the loose garments, Kaster could both hide gear and prepare physically to launch into action without giving either away. Satisfied he went to the cockpit.

“Roger Obeza control, this is Outlander headed for ground side docking bay 223.” K’rra spoke into a wire headset she wore in her hair.

Looking down over her shoulder Kaster couldn’t help but feel the anger from the night before burning through him. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but the thought of K’rra pleasuring countless others, and taking pleasure herself it in made him not even want to look at her.

She piloted mechanically. There was no art in the way she guided the ship. It was if she had learned to fly from books and instructional videos and never advanced beyond that. The way she gripped the steering column seemed cold and distant, completely unlike the way her hands were passionate when gripping him. And he knew she exhibited that same passion with others, countless others.

The Outlander touched down gently and K’rra powered down the engines quickly. She rose and asked, “Are we headed to the temple right now?”

Kaster stepped back away from her, not wanting to feel her touch. “No. I’m going to the temple. Alone.”

“But I thought…”

Kaster cut her off, “I said I was going alone. Slave.”

K’rra’s eyes watered and she lowered her head whispering meekly, “Yes, Master.”

He exited the ship. There was no customs agent in the port. The planet was barely populated, too small to afford the staff of a larger world. The starport itself was little more than dirt landing pads with soil berms between the ships. The stench of freshly moved dirt hung cloying in the air.

It became evident quickly that the town was little more than a village. Drawing out his datapad he called up a map of his location. He was in a small town on the edge of habitation for the planet. The largest building was the temple, and he suspected the town had sprung up around it to support the Furies residing within.

Observation was not going to be possible. K’rra had been horribly wrong, scientific method would not work in every situation. He’d have to play this one as he had before, trusting his own instincts.

The Temple dominated the eastern edge of the town. He walked down the main street, inspecting the temple as he closed in on it. It was a low ziggurat-shaped pyramid maybe three stories high at its apex. Climbing it would be effortless if needed. The real danger of the building would be the Furies within. Most would be little more than attendants, librarians, and priest types, but there were always a handful of warriors at each temple. Judging by the small size of this temple he guessed there would be no more than three or four warriors. If none were out on assignments.

Kaster marched up to the ornate doors of the temple. The bias relief carved into the plastic showed robed figures holding hands together forming a community linked together. He pushed through the doors and into a large open room.

The entry vestibule was just a large room where patrons of the temple met before entering the temple proper. Like most Fury temples it was crescent-shaped wrapping around the next room, the nave, where the community met for services and lectures.

At one end of the vestibule was an ancient desk, antique but well-kept, with an elder man in robes working a terminal. He looked up as Kaster approached.

“Can I help you?” the attendant asked.

“I’m looking for the Fury Jae.”

“And can I ask what the nature of your request is?”

“I’d like to discuss a bounty that’s been placed on her head.”

The attendant looked at him suspiciously but nodded and tapped at his terminal. “Someone will be here in a moment.”

Kaster bowed his head, “Mind if I wait in the temple?”

“As you wish,” The attendant said while returning to his work at the terminal.

Pushing through the doors to the nave Kaster observed that this temple was like every other he’d been to. A circular room, this one had jagged rather than smoothly curved walls. The center of the room had a circular dais a hand width higher than the floor. Around that were curved benches creating a mini-amphitheater.

He took a seat on a bench with his back to the doors he’d just come through. Looking past the center of the room and the dais there was another set of doors on the far side of the nave. Those doors led deeper into the temple, to the administrative and housing rooms. The Fury warriors would have quarters deep inside, and most likely would come through those doors to confront Kaster. It was impossible to tell from the attendant's reaction what would come through those doors.

Kaster closed his eyes and let his Focus roam. The ghosts of desperate people cluttered the room. The emotional echoes of desperate people looking for miracles lingered, a man willing to give anything to cure a cancer, a woman in debt, a scorned lover, a sick child. It was difficult to weave through all the echoes and find the Fury priests who lectured. Before he could find that thread a living person approached the doors.

Opening his eyes Kaster saw a middle-aged man with dark hair going to grey come through the doors. The man wore black Fury warrior robes marking him as a Fury Maester. He moved confidently toward the sitting Kaster. Their Focus touched each other and the Fury slowed his pace moving more cautiously as he approached.

“Can I help you?” the Fury asked.

Kaster rose, the two staring at each other arm lengths apart. Both were within easy Blade striking distance of each other.

“You are not the Fury Jae.” Kaster said.

Their Focuses touched, explored, and probed, each seeking the emotional center of the other.

“No. I am not.”

The fury was guarded, revealing nothing, his emotions tamped down, muted.

“Is the Fury Jae here?”

There was a hint of suspicion, concern, and that was all the opening Kaster needed. He concentrated on those emotions with his Focus, trying to pry them open, discover their roots. The Fury realized he was dealing with someone else trained to use Focus. But not someone who was trained as a Fury. That made Kaster a dangerous threat to his ordered world.

“What business do you have with her?”

Kaster could see and feel the Fury tense. It was nearly imperceptible, few people would ever see it, but Kaster had his Focus helping. The Fury was also probing Kaster, Kaster calmed his emotions, and gave the Fury a whiff of sadness luring the Fury in.

“There is a bounty on her head.”

The Fury’s mental defenses solidified but he continued probing. Kaster fed him that trickle of sad, recalling memories of childhood, of being orphaned, of yearning for loving parents that never were. The Fury pressed in hungry to find the root of it.

“And you have info that can help her?”

Kaster continued feeding with a façade of resistance, letting the Fury think Kaster was far less skilled.

“I mean to collect it.”

The Fury’s Focus solidified defensively, becoming a wall. Kaster tried to get a read, to keep him engaged, but the Fury retreated into a shell.

“And you are a law officer?”

“Registered bounty hunter.” Kaster stared at him trying to draw the Fury out.

“Following up on a Federated bounty?”

The Fury didn’t need to use his Focus to read Kaster’s silence.

“Because a Coalition bounty holds no weight here,” the Fury said, “and I would seriously question the motivation of a Focus user trying to enforce the will of petty warlords and thuggish tyrants. As a matter of fact, unregistered Focus use is illegal in the Federation. The Order of Furies is the only exception, and we register every user gifted or mundane.”

“Is it?” Kaster replied, “You think you can control the thoughts in my head?”

“No. We cannot allow those who don’t follow our ways to control others.”

Kaster glared at the man and showed him a feral smirk, “Arrest me then, Fury.”

He kept his Focus on the mentally guarded Fury who remained closed up like a turtle hiding in his shell. It was odd that he’d come out so cocksure and confident to only now be hiding in his own head. Kaster wanted to penetrate the depths, force his way inside and read the man, but the Fury stood staring back silently.

A sudden thought occurred to Kaster, the Fury was hiding on purpose. He’d come out broadcasting like an open radio only to shut down suddenly. While Kaster thought he was luring the Fury in, the situation was exactly the opposite. Every moment Kaster had been focusing on the man in front of him he’d turned a blind eye to everything else around him.

Retreating away from the Fury Kaster turned his Focus elsewhere, all around himself. Muted and calming their thoughts another Fury approached, through the front doors behind Kaster. It had been a trap.

The middle-aged Fury in front of him noticed the shift in Focus and reached for his WaveBlade. Kaster did the same. The Blades ignited and crossed in an instant and sparks showered the nave.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Kaster swore silently at himself. Just as he’d been warned, the Furies would try to kill him the moment they discovered another Focus user. He wasn’t just angry that he’d been overconfident and cocky, he was furious at himself. Using that rage he slammed his Blade down against the older man’s

Kaster had been trained to cross Blades, that the weapon’s purpose was to defend and avoid attacks. The Fury began dodging and sidestepping Kaster’s blows. When Kaster’s Blade came down backed with a screaming rage, the Fury would catch the Blade on his own, letting the force of the blow glide through where he’d been. Kaster was fighting water, a Fury whose fighting form slipped away with every stab and swing.

When the vestibule doors crashed open Kaster knew he had to retreat. There was no way he could face two of them at once, especially with one as slippery as the man in front of him. He was older, but knew how to conserve strength and use momentum back against his opponent.

Launching himself in the air Kaster slashed as he sailed past the Fury Maester. Fighting the Maester was turning out to be difficult in the open area of the nave. The Maester had room to dodge, sidestep and deflect. Kaster knew he needed to take that advantage away by changing the environment. He backed away toward the doors that lead deeper into the temple.

The second Fury advanced and Kaster watched as she ignited her Blade. He locked eyes with the Fury Jae.

First:

Rogue Fury – Part 1