Free Taking Tilly by Stacey St. James

lose
her mind. Finally, panting for breath and showing every evidence
that he was about to come himself, he withdrew and stepped
back.
    Tilly had expected that the woman
would be removed to another place while the others took their turn
at her.
    She discovered she was wrong and that
discovery was crushing.
    The commander took the second’s place.
Aligning his cocks with her body openings, he thrust into her and
continued to thrust until he’d expended himself. When he got up,
his second took his place, speared into her and pounded into her
punishingly until he, too, expended himself.
    The other three men took their turns
after them, apparently in ranking order, but Tilly had withdrawn
into her own world as soon as the commander drove his cock into
Marcia.
    Tilly thought, even if she hadn’t
hated the woman before she would’ve hated her after
that.
    Which only showed how screwed up her
head was because Marcia hadn’t enticed them, hadn’t offered and
couldn’t even fight them off if she’d wanted to.
    She should be furious with the
commander.
    And the second if it came to
that!
    Her sense of possessiveness finally
cleared her mind somewhat.
    Neither of them belonged to her—none
of them.
    Maybe this was the new lesson? They
were slaves, toys, and they belonged to their masters, not the
other way around.
    She had known that it was likely
that everyone else was getting exactly the same ‘training’ that she
was.
    She was a complete and utter fool to
feel hurt—jealous! She should feel sorry for the woman!
    When the last man had fucked Marcia
until he came, he staggered off to rest while the others took a
second shot at her.
    Tilly had followed the other women to
one side of the lounge and settled there on the pillows when it had
been borne in upon them that this was a different kind of lesson—a
show, she supposed, to convince them they were slaves and their
feelings meant nothing to the men.
    And if she assumed that to be the
case, then pretty much all of them were feeling much the same as
she was right now.
    The mysterious knot rose in her throat
again.
    She’d thought she was too smart to
fall for their mental manipulations, and yet she had—so easily it
was downright sickening. She recalled almost nothing about the
night the commander had taken her to his room—due, she thought, to
whatever he’d given her—but she’d remembered enough to feel
special.
    Even though she’d woken in her own
cell, she’d convinced herself that that was special, too. He’d
carried her in his arms.
    Very likely he’d simply
commanded the nanos to return her and she’d been too out of it to
recall—might not even have woken up at all. That thought had occurred to her, but
she’d dismissed it because she was always completely aware when the
suit was moving her around like a puppet and she’d managed to
convince herself she had to be awake for the nanos to do that.
    Stupid!
    When the men finally left, she spent
hours berating herself for her stupidity and trying not to hate
Marcia for being the focus of their attention when she knew,
whether the woman had wanted it or not, it hadn’t been a
choice.
    The others didn’t seem
similarly inclined. Their remarks and behavior proved that Tilly
was right—they were all hurt and jealous. Even pointing that out to
them did no good. They were so nasty to Marcia that Tilly could
almost feel sorry for the bitch. She thought she would’ve
except stupid thought she was special because they’d chosen her over all
the others and preened about it.
    The next day the men marched down the
corridor and into the lounge and chose another woman and they all
got to watch her get fucked half to death.
    She supposed there was a lesson in
that. They were there for the pleasure of the men, period. And they
would be used to the full extent of their desires even if it meant
the women were half dead when they got done—because half dead
didn’t count. The men wanted to thoroughly expend themselves