Page 16 of Warped
CHAPTER 15: BINX
E ven cold, the breakfast Traven prepared for me is delicious. Eggs Benedict is fancy as it is, but the lobster makes it downright decadent, and the spicy hollandaise has just the right amount of heat.
As much as I hate to admit it, Traven is a skilled cook.
He’s skilled at other things too, and I hate to admit that even more.
I’m still fuming over the way he just tortured me with his cock, bringing me right up to the point of climax, then denying me at the last moment. It isn’t just the maliciousness of it that pisses me off, it’s the ease with which he controlled my pleasure, like he already knows my body better than I do.
It almost worked, too. In a matter of minutes, Traven almost got me to spill my guts about everything. The only thing that saved me was Rek. If he hadn’t come barging in when he did…
God.
What would Traven have done if I’d revealed my plan to him? He probably would have kicked me off at the way station. Left me behind to find my own way to Caldera.
Well, he didn’t find out. My secret’s still safe, but you can bet he won’t give up trying to wrangle it out of me, and next time his tactics might not be as humane. I seem to recall him saying something about spanking me, and I can only imagine what sort of tools he and Rek have stashed away in that closet of depravities.
An idea suddenly pops into my head.
Earlier, Traven was watching me in the shower. As a matter of fact, the image of the empty shower stall is still displaying on the wall beside the kitchen. I walk over to it and take a closer look, and my face heats up as I realize just how much of a show I must have given him.
The bastard.
But if there are cameras in the bathroom, it stands to reason there are other cameras located all throughout the ship. I decide to do a little snooping of my own.
“ Nomad ,” I whisper. “Show me all the cameras, please.”
The single image of the bathroom is replaced by a dozen smaller images, each one neatly labeled. There’s one for the kitchen, one for the cockpit, multiple views of the bedroom, the cargo hold, and several other rooms. And sure enough, right there in the bottom corner is the closet where my trench coat is hanging.
That means Traven might have seen me hiding the datastick yesterday. Probably not, since he hasn’t found it yet.
Then again, I don’t actually know that.
I’m hit with a sudden frantic urge to check on the datastick, to make sure it’s still where I put it. I rinse off my empty plate in the sink and tuck it inside the dishwasher. Then I head upstairs. I’m halfway there when I feel the ship rock ever so slightly, probably as it disengages from the waystation where we’ve been docked.
That’s good. As long as Rek and Traven are focused on piloting the ship, they won’t be keeping tabs on what I’m up to. It gives me an opportunity to check on the datastick, and maybe find a more secure hiding place for it.
As soon as I reach the bedroom, however, something else catches my attention.
I stop.
The room is pretty much how I left it when I went downstairs to confront Traven. The wall imagers are still displaying a three-sixty interior of a medieval castle, and the air is filled with the sound of crackling firewood. The big round bed is still a mess, the satin sheets rumpled and stained from last night’s depravity. The lights are still low.
The only difference now is the briefcase. The one Rek was carrying when he walked in on Traven “interrogating” me in the kitchen. It’s lying on the edge of the mattress. I guess Rek must have tossed it there on his way up to the cockpit.
What the heck’s inside that thing anyway?
Doesn’t matter.
Focus.
I’m supposed to be checking on the datastick and finding a better hiding place for it than the pocket of my trench coat. And I’m supposed to be doing that right now , while the two warpers are preoccupied with steering the ship.
I set off for the closet on the other side of the room, but I only make it a few steps before my feet come to a halt.
There’s something strange about that briefcase. Something that beckons my attention and lifts the tiny hairs on the back of my neck at the same time.
The fact that Rek left it sitting on the bed makes me think it might have something to do with me.
Okay… just a peek.
A quick one.
I move toward the bed and kneel beside the mattress to inspect the mystery box. It looks like a fairly standard black briefcase, though to be honest, briefcases aren’t really a common sight anymore. The days of carrying around a bunch of papers are long gone.
I don’t think this case is for papers though.
The outside is covered in expensive-looking black leather. I brush my fingers over the textured surface. Then I check the little metal latches on both sides of the handle. There are no locks as you might expect to find on a case of this sort. All I have to do is snap the latches open, and I can see what’s inside.
Should I do it though?
The case belongs to Rek, not me. The fact that it’s lying on the bed doesn’t necessarily mean anything. A minute ago, I was worried about the warpers going through my personal belongings. Now here I am contemplating doing the same thing to them.
Which reminds me, I really should go and check on the datastick. The information it contains is far more important than whatever’s in this stupid briefcase.
Still, my curiosity won’t let me turn away until I’ve seen what’s inside.
Just one tiny little peek, that’s all.
I glance back over my shoulder to make sure I’m still alone. Then I turn my attention back to the briefcase. I quietly pop open both of the latches and carefully raise the lid.
The interior of the case is filled with soft, black foam, with cutouts to cradle the objects contained within. There are three of them in total, all the same color—black—and all the same form—an elongated egg sitting atop a short stem and wide, flat base. The only difference between them is the size. The smallest is only slightly bigger around than my thumb, and they get progressively larger from there.
What the heck are these things?
I remind myself that I’m only supposed to be taking a quick peek, which I’ve done. If these objects have anything to do with me—and I don’t see how they could—then I’m sure Rek will explain it to me later. If not, then it’s none of my business anyway.
The best thing to do would be to shut the case and go check on my datastick, which is the whole reason I came up here in the first place.
But something compels me to inspect the objects more closely.
I pluck the smallest object out of the case and hold it up to the dim light of the bedroom. It’s heavier than I expected, and it seems to be made from very dense silicone. The surface is soft to the touch, but it only has a slight amount of give to it.
Could it be some kind of grip trainer? I squeeze it in my fist, but I can only manage to squish it a tiny amount.
I turn it over to inspect the bottom.
The underside of the base is decorated with a pink gemstone. Weird. Why would someone want to hide the prettiest part on the bottom, where nobody will see it?
Hm.
I set the object back in its place and briefly inspect the others. I don’t take each one of them out. I just lift them up enough to confirm that—yes—they each have a glittering gemstone set into the base.
Alright. I’ve had my peek. More than a peek, really. Now it’s time to shut the case and go about my business with the datastick.
I’ve already wasted enough time as it is.
But there are two more items in the case that I haven’t had a look at yet. A pair of small, cylindrical bottles filled with some sort of clear fluid. One is labeled “Fire,” the other “Ice.” I select the latter.
The top is a flip-style cap, sort of like a shampoo bottle, and the stuff inside appears viscous, like jelly, but when I open it and give it a quick sniff, I don’t detect any odor.
I squeeze a small drop onto the tip of my middle finger and rub it with my thumb. The stuff is oily, silky smooth, and it imparts an odd cooling sensation to my fingertip. It doesn’t make it numb, exactly. It’s just… soothing.
Some kind of ointment, perhaps?
Or…
All of a sudden, I remember something Rek said yesterday. It was shortly after I had arrived aboard the ship, and the two males were testing me. Traven had his finger plunged knuckle- deep in my bottom, and he was complaining that my rear hole was too tight to accept his cock.
Listen , Rek told him. The trip’s gonna take us three days, right? That’s plenty of time to break her in. By the time we reach Caldera, her little ass will be good and primed.
Now I understand what I’m looking at, and it makes my blood run hot and cold in my veins.
The warpers intend to put these things inside my body—inside my rear hole . They’re going to use the different sizes to stretch me until I’m able to handle the girth of their enormous cocks.
They’re going to train me.
“Binx?”
The sound of Rek’s voice almost makes me jump out of my skin. I whirl around with a gasp, dropping the bottle of lube in the process.
Rek is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching me. Traven is right beside him.
“Ah,” Rek says with a faint smile. “I see you found the anal plugs I purchased for you. I hope they’re to your liking?”
“I… I…”
Rek strolls forward and picks up the bottle of “Ice” lube.
“Gotta be careful with this stuff, sweetheart. It’s gonna make the process a whole lot easier for you…”
He places the bottle back inside the case. Then he pulls out the smallest of the anal plugs. The one I was playing with a few moments before. He holds it up, letting the gemstone on the base catch the faint light coming from the wall imagers around the sides of the bedroom. He smiles.
“Pretty, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see it glittering between your cheeks.”
He nods toward the bed.
“Now take off your clothes and climb up there like a good girl, face down, ass up. The time has come to begin your training.”