Mendaci
Copyright© 2026 by MicaMeesha
Chapter 2
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - I buy an alien blue-skinned slave at an auction in a far-off world. Not because I wanted a slave, but to save her from death. My only issue is, what to do with her? She made the decision for me.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Science Fiction Aliens
When we eventually got to Mars, I had to go through the immigration controls, which meant showing the paperwork for the cargo and for Lana. I was a little frustrated, as I knew that the new Fold drives would have got me there in hours, not days. Still, at least we were there and hadn’t fallen foul of pirates. The cargo guy at the Mars spaceport looked at me with a strange look in his eye.
“Centauran?” He asked. He had caught a glimpse of Lana even though she had tried to keep out of sight. It’s a bit difficult for someone with bright blue skin to hide.
“Yes.” I replied, trying to suppress my sigh at the inevitability of the question. I was probably going to get this everywhere except on Alpha C itself.
“Indentured, I saw the ring?”
“Well, yes, but I plan to get that cancelled as soon as I can; I just need a few more trips so that I can afford the cancellation fees.”
“I have heard that they rock in bed; fuck like the whores in New Vegas.”
“Oh, well, she is crew, so that would probably be inappropriate.”
“Send her to me and I’ll let you know.”
“I don’t think so, you know. Well, I mean, I don’t know if she is clean, if you know what I mean.”
I had to be careful not to piss the cargo manager off; I still need my manifest loading. I was taking a load of mining tools to Betelgeuse. Essential jewels for the laser, and I was going to make half the profit I needed to get the indenture cancelled. If I pissed the cargo guy off, then I might find my cargo late in loading. Using indentured for matters of pleasure was pretty standard, and it was expected that they be shared.
“Oh God,” he said, “fucking alien germs are the worst; local doctors don’t have what is needed to cure alien shit.”
“Exactly, best steer clear. If you can get me loaded, then I can get her away from here.”
“Too right, you’re next. Be about three hours.”
“Brilliant, mate, thank you.”
Lana was an indentured slave that I had bought at an auction to save her from being killed and harvested. Being indentured meant that she wore a ring around her neck that caused her pain if her owner pressed buttons on the remote control. How much pain depended on what buttons the owner pressed. She had basically been sold as a slave by her parents at some point in her past. The ring meant that she did as she was told, or she suffered.
I hated that, and although, as her new owner, I could take the ring off her, by law, she had to wear the ring when she was in public. I had spent some time searching and had found how, with tools that I hadn’t got, to neutralise the ring, so that basically it was just a collar. One of the things that I wanted to get whilst we were in dock was the necessary tools. I just hoped that they weren’t stupidly expensive.
Lana had a troubled past. I did not know the details; it seems her previous owner had won her in a game of Rigellian Poker and had simply used her for his personal pleasure, never caring about her or her needs, until eventually she rebelled and he sold her for scrap. Apart from her blue skin and antennae on her forehead, she would pass for a human.
I grabbed Lana; she had been standing in the air lock, keeping out of the way, and I took her to the main concourse. There were cafes and shops, none of which I could realistically afford, but at least we could roam around and waste some time until we were ready to go. We wandered along the concourse; the smells of all the cooking stalls mingled together to make a pungent but sweet aroma.
“Can I try that?” Lana asked, pointing at a spicy tofu stall run by an Earth guy. He looked Mexican, but, these days, who could tell? I had heard tales that cyborgs were now being developed that had very human looks and characteristics.
“It is spicy hot; you may not like it,” I replied with a laugh in my voice.
“I won’t know until I try,” she said. “Please?”
I chuckled and went across to the vendor. “One please,” I said.
“Hot or volcano, signor?” the vendor asked.
“Oh, just hot, I think. If it isn’t hot enough, we can always try the volcano later.”
The vendor tipped the marinated tofu onto a bed of rice in a small cardboard box and passed it over. I handed him 5 credits and turned away, passing the box to Lana along with the two wooden chopsticks that came with the tofu.
“What are these?” Lana asked, holding the chopsticks.
“They are to eat with,” I said, taking them from her and showing her how they worked by stealing a piece of her tofu and putting it into her mouth. She smiled, and then she chewed, and then her mouth stopped. Her eyes stared and looked as if they were about to leave her head. Her antenna wiggled, and then she swallowed.
I thought that I had gone too far. I should have warned her about chilli spice and how it could, as it appeared to have just happened, blow your head off.
“Wow, I mean, just wow, that is incredible, and I mean, bloody incredible; that is the best thing I have ever eaten. What is it?”
Well, colour me pink; I expected her to struggle with the spice, most aliens did. “That is a spice from Earth; it is called chilli.”
“It is delicious; I want more and more. It makes me funny.”
“What do you mean funny?”
“I am tingling inside, down there. I want you. I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me now.”
Jesus, well, that is not a side effect of chilli that I had ever heard of. If that was the effect it had on Centauri girls, every Earth man that knew it would be shipping it to Alpha C by the shipload. I wondered if I ought to diversify and open a chilli shop on Alpha C.
“Well, we can’t do that in a restaurant; we will have to wait until we get back to the ship.”
She pulled a face and carried on eating; her use of the chopsticks was awkward, but she managed to get most of the food into her mouth, her face beaming as she ate. By the time she had finished, Lana was bouncing up and down on the seat, her eyes sparkling and her hands opening and closing, her fingers clutching air.
“We have to have some of that on the spaceship,” she said, her eyes boring into mine.
“Okay, but first we need to get the tools I need for your neck ring. And remember, the more we spend, then the less I have available to get your indenture cancelled.”
“That doesn’t matter when I am with you; you keep me safe. No one else can use me.”
“I don’t use you, Lana, not like that.”
“How do you know? How do you know that you are not influenced by me?”
“Because I felt the same before I rescued you as I do now.” I hoped that was true; her antennae certainly did a number on me when they made contact, but, as far as I could remember, my thoughts haven’t changed. Her antennae’ effects only seemed to intensify sex during the moment of touching. There were, as far as I could tell, no lasting effects.
We carried on along the concourse until we found a shop that sold hardware. I enquired about the specific tools I needed. The vendor looked at me and then at Lana.
“So, you want to access her ring? Do you have her paperwork?” He asked with a sneer on his face.
“Yes, I have her paperwork; I am her owner. I just want to be able to do maintenance if it ever goes wrong.” I had to be careful. In some jurisdictions, altering an indenture ring is illegal.
“Yes, of course, you do,” he laughed and then went to a shelf behind him and took a small case and put it on the counter.
“Twenty-five credits,” he said, “non-refundable.”
Show me the tools,” I said.
“I can’t; they are sealed.”
“Okay, thank you,” I said, and pressing Lana’s shoulder, I moved us to the door.
As we were opening the door, the vendor called us back.
“Okay. Come back.”
I turned back to the counter and looked the vendor in the eyes and said nothing.
“Okay, okay,” he said, and took the seal from the case and opened the lid. There were a variety of attachments and a small number of holders. It looked as if the tool kit would cover a variety of scenarios.
“Show me which one fits her neck ring,” I said. I had no intention of buying a box of tools that didn’t do what I needed.
He took one of the bits; it had a crescent profile, and he passed it to me. I offered it up to the small screw in Lana’s ring; it fitted.
“Satisfied?” he asked.
“Twenty-five is too much,” I replied. “I’ll give you ten.” And I took a ten credit note from my pocket.
“Fuck off, human.” He said and closed the case.
I shrugged and turned to leave.
“Twenty,” he said.
“Fifteen,” I replied, “and that is it.”
He held his hand out. I passed over the ten, took another five from my wallet, and as I handed it to him, I took the case in my hand. I wasn’t completely naïve. I had the tool that I needed, and we left the shop.
“Do you have any money left for that spice, the chilli?” Lana asked.
“Yes, some,” I replied, “but it eats into the funds I need to get rid of the indenture.”
“That doesn’t matter to me; you don’t treat me like a slave, not like I used to be treated.”
I shrugged, and we walked back towards the cargo dock. I had seen a shop that sold chilli and other vegetables and spices earlier, and I didn’t want to stray too far away from the ship. These cargo docks can be quite lawless at times, and with Lana being indentured, some of the rougher types down here would see her as fair meat. In the shop that we had seen earlier, they sold seeds, dried chilli and fresh chilli.
There was a hydroponics setup on the ship that I had never used; perhaps we could make it work and grow some of the seeds ourselves. That would save us a deal of money going forward. I guessed that the dried seeds wouldn’t be viable, and so I bought 5 credits’ worth of fresh whole chilli; any seeds from them should work.
Back at the ship, they were just finishing loading the cargo; the words I had spoken earlier about how she was unclean seemed to have circulated, and the stevedores shied away as we approached. With Lana safely onboard, I went back to the cargo deck office and completed the paperwork. We were clear to leave.
Lana wasn’t unclean, not in any way, but I wanted to deter the ruffians that frequented the docks from thinking she was fair game, and so I let them think that she was unclean.
When I was back on board and all the hatches were closed and the cargo secured, I got clearance to leave, and soon we were in orbit around Mars. The computer had programmed the drive with the coordinates for Betelgeuse. I pressed engage, and we were on our way.
I heard Lana approach, and as I was about to turn, I felt a sense of deep euphoria. She had pressed her antennae against me and was pouring everything she had into me. I could resist; I knew that, but I didn’t. Why delay what was going to happen anyway? Why not enjoy it to the full?
“You must fuck me,” she said, her hands reaching down to tug at my belt.
“Why must I?” I asked, turning to face her, my chair pivoting, her antennae maintaining contact with my skin, my enforced euphoria now tinged with desire.
“You poisoned me with your Earth spice; only your spunk in my pussy is an antidote.”
“Is that a fact?” I replied, a slight doubt at the back of my mind.
“I need you to fill me.”
“What about the rest of the poison that we have bought? Should I jettison it?”
“Do not. You must simply fuck me after every dose; it is simple.”
I checked that the autopilot was engaged and that the proximity and collision sensors were active, and I stood up. As I stood, Lana’s antennae broke contact, and the feeling of intense euphoria passed, but my desire to screw her did not. I took her hand and guided her to my bedroom. I suppose I should say ‘our’ bedroom; she hasn’t used her own bunk since she boarded, sleeping instead in my bed with me.
In our room, Lana pulled away and pulled her flight suit open, her breasts tumbling from the gaping front. She did not wear a bra, as far as I knew, only human women wore bras, nor did she wear knickers. She pulled the garment off, kicking her foot out of the last leg, impatiently wanting to be naked.
It seems I was being too slow; I had undone my flight suit, but it was still on me, covering my shoulders and pretty much everything else. She tutted in frustration and pulled my suit down over my shoulders and to my ankles.
“Lift,” she said, tapping my ankle. I raised my left ankle, and she pulled the suit clear, and then I swapped ankles, and she pulled the suit away, throwing it behind her.
My dick was straining forwards, my foreskin pulling back, revealing a little of the purple of my glans. I pushed Lana onto the bed and knelt between her ankles. She sat up and tried to grab me and pull me up; she simply wanted a fuck. That wasn’t me; I wanted more. I pushed her arms away, and she fell back to lying on the mattress.
I leant forwards, opened my mouth, and sucked her blue clitoris inside, my tongue tracing patterns on it. Lana squealed. I took two fingers on my right hand and circled her pussy. Lana bucked on the bed, her desire almost overwhelming her. I began to seriously think about opening a chilli concession on Alpha C.
Her fingernails began digging into my shoulders, and I responded by pressing through her pussy entrance and into the depths of her hot, wet blue pussy. Her pussy walls quivered and began tightening on my fingers, but she was too wet to get any purchase, and my fingers slipped easily in and out, finger-fucking her, as I ate at her pussy buffet.