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But Tor evidently needed some time to think on it, because he didn’t respond immediately. When he did, it sent chills through me.
“Yeah, all right,” he said, a playful evil lurking around in his voice. “I’ll take the extra rotation.”
The matter was settled. Rhys gave Black a command to untie me. It was time for the ritual of gratitude, another humiliation for me, another thing that I didn’t want to admit to liking or fantasizing about, and which I did try to do my best at.
Like the spanking, there was something about it that appealed to my nature, that reached deep inside of me and fulfilled a need I could scarcely believe that I had.
After the ritual, my jaw was always sore, and my knees tender. The bitter, salty taste of cum stayed in my mouth for much of the day, until someone gave me a beverage, which I often had to beg for in creative ways. But there was no deceiving my captors or myself: my body craved this ritual, and my pussy was often so wet that whoever took me first for the day had to swipe some of my juices away with a cloth.
Ifthat was how they decided to take me. And if Rhys allowed them to. Often on this day of ritual, they took me in the ass, which made it easier for me to obey Rhys and come for no one unless he ordered me to.
Black untied me and I sat up on the table with my legs dangling over. In the meantime, the men had formed a circle, and were ready and waiting. Rhys was always first. He was already holding the small cushion he – and most of the others – placed on the floor for my knees.
Only Tor, and sometimes Scar, would not drop it onto the floor for me, and I would have to service them with my knees grinding into the uncomfortable flooring.
Rhys held the cushion for a moment, looking me in the eye. Of all the men aboard this ship, he was the hardest to read. He did not betray his thoughts, or his emotions (if he even had such things), and this made him terrifying and powerful, even in the eyes of the other men. But I also found it strangely appealing, at least physically.
He dropped the cushion to the floor, in front of his feet, his eyes still on mine.
I slid obediently from the table and walked to him, before kneeling on the cushion. I was staring at his waist, watching the hem of his shirt levitate as he grabbed it between his shoulder blades with one hand and pulled it up and over his head. His other hand unfastened his pants, and his cock – bulging, seemingly thicker than ever before, sprang toward me just as I looked up at him. The soft head of his dick brushed across my throat, and I was pleased to feel the dampness of a pearl of precum that smeared over my skin as it did.
He dropped his hand to his shaft, and gently dragged it along my neck and up and over my chin, tapping the heavy meat against my lips. He brushed my hair back and cradled my head in his hand. “Open,” he commanded. “Open and show me your gratitude with your mouth.”
I knew what to do. Above all, for Rhys, I was to keep to my eyes locked on his. He fed his cock to me, and I stretched my mouth and my throat as much as I could. I never managed to take all of him into my throat, but each time, I tried harder to do so. Black had instructed me on a technique that involved me pretending that I was trying to swallow, so that I would move his cock further down my throat, avoid gagging, and also provide a massage to the cock in my mouth.
The first time I tried it on Black he had seemed very pleased with it, and so I tried it on Rhys.
It was impossible to know if Rhys liked it or not, but he came faster when I did this, so I thought it was a pretty good indicator that he approved. I wanted to please him; I wanted to show him all the things that the gratitude ritual was meant to convey.
Women in their society had lesser status than men, and showed their gratitude for their physical protection and their sacrifices as protectors and authorities. The alpha especially deserved the greatest expression of this gratitude, and I intended to give it to him.
All but the final inch of Rhys’s cock disappeared easily into my mouth and my throat, and I sucked it back with my swallowing motion. As his cock filled by throat, I had to struggle to breathe through my nostrils, and saliva poured into my mouth and began to seep from its corners.
This had bothered me once, but Black had explained to me that what I found “unsightly” was actually very stimulating to a man.
I endeavored to keep taking more and more of him, but my jaw was strained almost to pain, and I just couldn’t take more in. I looked into his eyes, hovering above his thick beard, and tried to show him that I was grateful for him. I massaged his cock as I did, almost choking. My eyes watered, and as I felt the pressure of an orgasm building up in the tensing thickness of his cock, my own body responded almost as if I was the one receiving the massage. My pussy juices poured from between my legs.
After so much time on this ship, being used like a toy by these men, Rhys was the only one I couldn’t take fully in my mouth. I wanted to: it was almost impossible to explain to myself, but Iwantedto please him. Him, above all the others.
I could feel that he was going to come, so at least I had pleased him. As the excitement built in his body, it built in mine as well, gushing from between my legs, making me so wet that whoever took me today for recreational use would slide easily inside of me, no matter how they decided to have me.
I worked his cock deep in my throat, but with Rhys, I didn't mind when his cum filled my mouth and I tasted it. It was bitter, and salty, but somehow different than the others, who I usually tried to get right into my throat.
I swallowed his seed, working my tongue around his shaft. I cleaned him off as he withdrew from my mouth, after the three forceful spurts that spewed into me as he groaned. He looked into my eyes as he came, and the power of that gaze flattened me again.
Sometimes, when Rhys punishes me by sending me to bed without any relief, I touch myself and think about his face as his fingers close around a fistful of my hair and I swallow his cum on my knees, supplicant and submissive.
From Rhys I moved to each of them in turn, following their hierarchy.
Black was next: I could get all of him inside my mouth and throat. He put his hand down to brush my hair from my face, guiding his cock to my lips and smearing his precum over them, letting me taste for myself the excitement my punishments brought him. He liked me to know what he liked, liked to tell me how to please him. I moved my tongue along the hard ridge of flesh that frames the smooth dome of his dick, teasing him back. But he was already so close - Black is not one of those who took a long time to come, though he did it many times in each of our sessions. I worked him deep in my throat and swallowed dutifully. The act of submission made my pussy throb painfully.
Next I serviced Doc, and then the others. Every man, my humiliation and gratitude different for each of them. Only Tor, evidently still harboring his grudge, kicked the pillow away when I crawled to him. He seized my hair and stuffed himself into my throat, and then moved his hips to fuck me, while I grasped at his forearms to keep from losing my balance.
Tor liked to pull out at the last minute sometimes, and today was such a day. He jerked his hips away from my mouth and tilted my head back to face him. I closed my eyes, because I knew what was coming: Tor would spurts thick ropes of his cum all over my throat, and lips, and face.
"Look at me," he growled, slapping his cock on my lips.
I obeyed, only because I knew if I didn't, I would be in for trouble when I was given to him later today.
