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Pride and Politics	By : HunterOpera Category: +M through R > Metroid Views: 31560 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Samus Aran or Metroid and am making no money from this.

Chapter List
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Every morning is exactly the same for Samus Aran.
She sleeps on the floor, uncovered and naked save for the collar around her neck. There's a chain that runs from the collar to the large bed her owner sleeps on. She can hear only one rhythmic breathing and knows her master slept alone, that her trainer has gone back to the hell that broke the Hunter.
There's a small but fine carpet that rests between the cool tile and her naked flesh. It's not long enough for her to fully stretch out on, so she curls up like an animal when she goes to sleep, drifting off on her side. Her owner rarely gives her a pillow, so she sleeps on her arm. She often awakes with the feeling of pins and needles.
She always wakes up before her owner. She's been trained to, some warning slithering into her sleeping mind and bringing her to consciousness. Some nights, when he's feeling kind, her owner lets her sleep in the bed, but she knows better than to stay there – if she stays there the night and is discovered she will be punished.
The floor, friends, is where she belongs.
Over the past year she's learned to appreciate the rare loneliness she's offered.
She can smell the fine coat of sweat on her naked owner even if she cannot see him. The room is humid, sunlight slipping in the windows and telling her it is time to begin another day, an endless mirror reflecting the rest of her life.
The morning cums and so, the slave knows, must her master.
He has told her how he wishes to be woken.
Slowly, the quiet timid creature that she has become stretches and climbs up the foot of the bed, careful not to make a sound or disturb the sleeping Baron. Her naked ass twitches, her pussy glistening with unanswered want as she takes his manhood in her fingers, pulls herself to it.
It takes all the skills she has left from her time as the Hunter not to wake him, but she manages as the stench of him fills her nostrils. Her eyes lock on the monster below her as her lips part and her eyes close.
We all know what must happen now.
Samus Aran bows her head, tongue slipping past her lips and slathering up the hard shaft of her owner's manhood. She barely remembers what real food tastes like – the scraps she is given often have the flavor pulled from them. She dreams of food sometimes, but the only taste she knows in her waking hours is her owner's cock and, sometimes, her trainer's pussy.
Palms pressed into the soft sheets and mattress her owner denies her, she fulfills her duty: licking her owner to hardness, keeping him hard until he awakens.
Only then can the next part of her task begin.
Slowly, hating the love she feels, Samus coaxes her owner from his dreams and into the world he owns. Her fingers trace the root of him as her tongue slathers down the disgusting length, over every ridge, teasing the head. She can taste the remnants of herself on him from the night before.
His breath quickens.
She opens her eyes to see his flicker, a small smile twisting his semi-conscious lips. Aside from the collar, he leaves her unbound every night, knowing she's too broken to do anything other than obey. He smiles upon waking because her submission is as enjoyable as her tongue.
He knows her tongue, knows her fingers. Baron Rinic Pratolsar loves the way her lithe tongue and pouty lips carefully coat the entirety of his length, careful not to miss a single sliver of skin.
Slowly, friends, so very slowly, Samus' trained tongue circles the crown of Olsar's cock head, working up a lather as the scent drives out any other stray thought remaining in what's left of her mind. She is focused on doing one thing, and that is suckling the cock of the man who had her kidnapped and broken and rapes her at his whim.
When she whimpers a little he wakes, but she knows he might forgive her that sound: he likes it when she whimpers.
“Samus Aran,” he mumbles, his hands in her hair. “The Hunter. Reduced to a simple cocksleeve.”
He groans as she takes his massive head into her mouth, gently pulling him from rest to waking.
And now her cunt begins to leak. She knows what is coming and hates herself for knowing how much her training forces her to enjoy it.
Her owner groans his pleasure, his hands tightening in her hair, his manhood throbbing between her lips. She risks glancing up and meeting his eyes for just a moment, knowing the price she'll pay for holding the gaze of someone better than her.
As a slave, she knows that everyone is better than her.
She whimpers, his sticky pre-cum filling her mouth and dribbling past her lips. Slow, careful, she waits for his command to swallow the foul demi-liquid. He gives it and she lets it slide down her throat, turns her attention back to cleaning off every inch of him with her tongue.
Olsar doesn't need to tell her what comes next.
He does anyway.
Samus holds him in her hand as she moves, spreading her legs and letting him see her, really see her – her submission, her brokenness, the hungry twitching lips between her legs – as she kneels over top of him, his shaft teasing her entrance. She's panting now, the sounds that escape with every breath pleading and pleasing.
And here she is, Samus Aran, the Hunter, stripped of her zero-suit, of her armor, of her identity, of her dignity. Collared and kept as a pet, both her hands directing the monster between her owner's legs into her sopping cunt-mouth. She's a sex-toy now, straddling her owner as she spreads her legs wide, the only god she worships slipping into her.
She gasps as it forces her open, moans and whimpers as she sinks down on the massive organ.
“Master,” quivers Samus, “this slave wishes her master and owner a good morning.”
He looks up at her, lips parting in a long sigh. She's so soft on the inside, the way she rolls her hips for him making his vision roll. She wants him so badly, he knows, trained to want nothing more than his cock inside her. He watches as she writhes, head lolling bonelessly on her shoulders.
This is now her truest and only desire, friends, to ride her owner until he cums.
If she is truly lucky he may let her cum, too.
*
How'm I doing? Good story? Bad story? We've got one chapter left until the final act begins, another six or seven chapters total to go. I'd like to know what people think, writing-wise, and all responses, queries, and questions will be answered (eventually) at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/36931-metroid-the-bergman-affair-feedback-comments-and-workshopping/?page=13. Thanks for reading.
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Pride and Politics