Chapter 1

The three figures seemed to fly along the ridge crest like ghosts. It was an illusion, of course, a blurring of the line between the gray sky and the ground, but the marines watching from the fort's wall turned to each other and smiled. An erotic illusion was a welcome reprieve from the gritty reality of their lives.

The male silhouette running in front was Lance Corporal Richard (Ricky) Sanders. He was followed closely behind by two incredibly well-shaped females, the prized pets of Colonel John S. Franks. All important men on the ark owned pets--personal sex-slaves--but Colonel Franks' two girls were considered extraordinarily beautiful - a tragic waste most thought given his advanced age.

A light chain, running from Sander's hand to the girls' necks, joined them together in an invisible tether. Their arms also looked strange--their wrists had been strapped to their biceps to forestall any resistance. Those watching also knew that they had been plugged--the two holes between their legs were filled with dildos secured by a crotch-and-waist chain. The bondage and the plugs, which were normal for such valuable property, ensured that the colonel's property was kept chaste.

Everyone understood his caution. The two were exceptional by anyone's standard--both had long hair, one blond the other brunette; both were tall and slim with amazing, luscious figures; and both had long shapely legs that seemed even longer as they ran. Sanders had stripped them naked for the run. The only thing touching their golden skin was the cold black metal.

Sunrise was still a few minutes away, but the two moons over the lance corporal's head gave him more than enough light to see his way. Not that he needed it; he had lived in the darkness of Ark Genesis for entire life. He was used to moving in the dark. The truth was he preferred the soft moonlight to the bright glare of the sun.

This was the reason he always started his run half-an-hour early. His sergeant didn't mind, he was up anyway, he seemed to understand the man's preference for the darkness. No one ever asked, but even the colonel's pets seemed to prefer their exercise in the pre-dawn's half-light.

Sanders glanced up at the smaller moon. Its light had been fading for weeks. He knew it wasn't really a moon, it was Asteroid 19 Fortuna, but somehow he felt better about its imminent departure when he thought about it as a moon. Two centuries ago, the asteroid had been converted into the space-ark Genesis to carry a hundred-thousand colonists across space. Last year, the ark completed its journey and was nudged into a wobbly orbit around their new sun. Seven enormous shuttles had carried the colonists to the planet surface. He glanced up again at the dying moon. The asteroid-ark was orbiting the sun in parallel with the planet, which everyone now called Quartos--the fourth planet from the sun.

Quartos ... they had finally arrived. He was the a 14th generation descendent of those original space travelers.

He glanced back at the two pets. They seemed unaffected by the pace so he doubled it. The run needed to challenge them physically. Its primary purpose was to maintain their hard lean bodies. The colonel preferred an athletic body-type. Sanders agreed wholeheartedly, there was nothing like the satin-over-steel feel of a fit woman. The colonel was depending on him to keep his pets in tip-top shape and that was exactly what he intended to do. The ark's twisting caves didn't allow a fast run; here on Quartos their only limitations was their own strength.

He missed the ark though--its dark caves, the vastness of its great caverns, and its cool wet air--those things were gone forever. Quartos was their home now. This was where they would build Earth's first space colony.

He glanced back again. The two girls didn't seem bored anymore. They were sucking in huge quantities of air. He could just make out their tits rising and falling as their lungs pumped. There was hardness inside his jockstrap now. It wasn't unusual--these two were the most luscious pets in the entire MZ (Military Zone), perhaps in the entire fort. He was proud the colonel trusted him with them, with their all-important exercise.

He wasn't going to screw that up by fucking them. Even if he could get past the plugs, he wouldn't do that.

Just thinking about fucking them made his cock harder. He looked back at their hard bodies; their nipples seemed to be calling to him. If they were unplugged, he thought, he could stick it to them in seconds. All he would need to do was to bind them to a tree with their neck chain. Their arms would be useless in the straps. He could fuck both of them until his cock was bursting out of its skin.

All he would need to do was to slip below the ridge line. No one watching them from the fort would see anything. Even if they did see something, they were his buddies, his brothers and sisters. No one would report him--marines stuck together. They were a family, his family.

He had been a rebel before being assigned to the marines, a real terror for his teachers. The marines had simultaneously abused and loved him, taught him the power of a team and the spirit of an individual. He had been transformed in the corps. The emotional indifference of his childhood caregivers had been replaced by the intensity of the marine experience. He was not going to give that up for a quick taste of pussy, no matter how delicious. Fucking the colonel's prize pets meant dishonor not to mention prison time.

He glanced back at Fort Manning. They were at least eight clicks from the walls ... too far. He slowed then stopped. The girls followed suit. They were breathing hard, their nostril flaring, but they were certainly not winded not anywhere close.

They were in perfect condition--strong and healthy and beautiful. He wondered how the colonel managed to keep control of them when he fucked them. He was a strong man, but he was nearly 70. These two were not even in their 20s yet, perhaps 18 or 19. Together, they could easily overpower him; they certainly had more endurance.

Maybe he fucked them one at a time or used bondage to keep them still, Sanders thought. Whatever ... it was a waste of such prime slave meat. The joke in the barracks was that these two would shag the old man to death one day soon, that the new commander would need to be in great shape sexually to take his place in the saddle.

He cursed himself for such thoughts then immediately forgave the offense--it was impossible for a natural man to be around them without feeling the urge. The joke might prove true--an older man like the colonel might very well push himself beyond his limits with these two.

He stared at Tawny's hard body. Surprisingly, she stared back focusing on his pecs and abs, on the bulge in his marine-issue running shorts.

"You are quite fit, Lance Corporal," she said softly. "Thank you for such a good workout."

He stared back, surprised. Pets didn't initiate conversations with marines. It was ... fucking unmilitary. She had also used his rank to address him rather than the more conventional and polite "Master." It was too familiar it was almost as if she was speaking to him as an equal.

There were consequences for such actions, he thought, punishments that would leave this pet in agony for days. He had seen them being administered up close and personal. The second girl, Breeth, was watching them out of the corner of her eye trying to affect a slave's disinterest while listening closely.

"The colonel is a kind man," Tawny continued insolently in a soft tone, "a fair and wonderful Master, but he's old, on the edge of retirement." She lowered her voice. "It's hard for him, lance corporal, to give us the ... relief we need."

Sanders stared at her in astonishment. Pets were definitely not supposed to have conversations with their masters. The colonel would have her whipped, tie her to his whipping post and have her flogged if he turned her in. He would have to do that when he got back. It would be a crime for him to withhold this kind of information. The military was strict when it came to the slave regs.

"A soldier who really loves his outfit would help the colonel out, sexually I mean. He wouldn't make a big deal out of it, he'd just do it. He wouldn't allow his colonel to be embarrassed in front of his men."

His eyes were locked on her full lips, hypnotized by them as she spoke.

"You know the men can all see what's happening; they can sense it. Every time we go out in public there's some ... small discharge. The men can smell it from a mile away."

His mouth was open.

"You know, lance corporal, they put mittens on us at night to keep us 'fully charged.' It's a tradition. It prevents us from relieving the pressure ourselves, from masturbating, but the mittens were designed to accommodate a much younger man. Imagine what it would be like for you, a soldier, if you had no way to relieve yourself.

"One day the colonel is going to be shamed in public and it won't be our fault."

"I'm a marine," Sanders sputtered, "not a soldier."

Tawny pursed her lips and stood perfectly still staring at him, her naked body taunting him. He thought about what she had said. The keys for their chains were held by the sergeant-of-the-guard.

"The penalty for speaking without permission is ten lashes," he said slowly, finding his voice. "The penalty for being disrespectful to a Master is 20. The penalty for urging a marine to commit a crime is 30. That's 60 lashes, four days of morning punishment."

(By military regulation, girls could only receive 15 whip strokes a day. This was often ignored outside the MZ.)

He stared into the deep pools of her eyes as she shrugged off the comment.

"That's right, lance corporal, I would be whipped for days if they knew. With a few words, you could bring me indescribable agony.

"I'm thinking though that you are a real man with real courage, a man with real loyalty to the corps. I'm thinking that you are the kind of man who would act on his own initiative to keep his colonel from being embarrassed. A man of his age being embarrassed like that, having his inadequate libido put on public display ... it would crush him, you know that. Having a wounded lion in charge certainly wouldn't be good for the marines in this time of crisis."

She twisted her bare shoulders catching the morning light in the sheen of sweat on her skin. Sanders didn't say anything. He just stood there like a statue, desperately wishing there was someone around to give him an order. Tawny stepped towards him and dropped to her knees in the grass. Breeth, chained behind, followed her as if she was her shadow. In a second, using her teeth and fingers, she had his running shorts down to his ankles. Sanders stood like a statue then kicked away his shorts.

Tawny rose up on her knees and latched onto his cock with her mouth. Breeth silently slipped her head between his legs and began to suck on his balls. It happened so fast and so naturally that Sanders couldn't react even if he had wanted to. In a few minutes, he was moaning as the forbidden sensations rolled over his body. When he came, his eyes rolled back into his head and he shuddered like a dog in heat.

The girl sucked him dry careful to ensure that no physical evidence of his orgasm fell on their bodies or on the ground. They both rose and stepped back respectfully to their original positions where they remained silent. The only indication of anything untoward was a barely noticeable grass-stain on their knees.

Sanders took a deep breath, pulled up his shorts, and began to run back to the fort. He felt guilt and fear, fear that they would divulge what had happened on the ridge. But they didn't. Later that day, he realized they were all now guilty of conspiracy, guilty of hiding the crime.