Chapter 9

Wake up…

24601 felt a groan gather in her throat, but felt that she could not utter it. Something was blocking her mouth. What was happening?

Wake up, child. Wake up, Sarah…

The voice did not come from outside. It originated within her own mind, that much she knew. Telepathic contact? Should not her inhibitor take care of it? Prevent unwanted telepathic contact even when she was not fully conscious? And who was Sarah?

You are Sarah, child. Sarah Kerrigan. They stole your identity, but I see your identity in your blood, in your essence. Nothing can take that away.

Reflexively, still not fully awake, the Ghost tried to push the presence out of her head while at the same time stirring her mind to full wakefulness. The latter was successful…the first, not so much. The more she became awake, the keener she felt the presence…a mind like a sun, burning, overwhelming in its majesty and size. No matter how trained, she was small in his presence.

I will not leave you, Sarah. You are precious to me. More so than all my creatures.

What creations? Who are you? That was what the Ghost wanted to say. But again, she found that she could not utter anything but a muffled series of grunts. Something kept her from moving her lips. Slowly, as the sensations and the feel of her own body became clearer to her, she found that her lips were in fact stretched around something round, thick and slimy…something that slowly slid back and forth between them, into her mouth and over her tongue, the tip secreting a fluid that was even more vile than the sperm she’d had to swallow all night.

Overcome with sudden disgust, she bent forwards…except that she couldn’t. Her hands were stuck in something thick and sticky that would not yield more than a few inches. Hastily, getting struck by a growing sense of panic, Sarah…no, 24601!, forced her eyes open…and beheld space. Planets danced in front of her eyes, many of which she recognised. Earth, Korhal, Chau Sara…so many places known from her hypno-induction…and each and every one of them was at war.

Behold, the future!

Right now, 24601 could not care less about the future. She had no idea where she was, but she realized three things…she was stuck, she was obviously completely nude and something was pumping into her mouth in a way which could not be anything other than sexual. Casting her eyes down, she noticed that the object was a long, greenish-brown tentacle, glistening with her saliva and its own slimy secretions.

The tentacle did not allow her to move her head too much, but from she could see, the Ghost determined that she was apparently stuck in some kind of cocoon, her arms and legs transfixed by strands of a spidersilk-like material, only even more sticky and unyielding.

Do not resist. This is my way of laying my seed within your mind, Sarah Kerrigan. The less you resist, the easier it will be for you.

Just when she realized that this sounded so much like the things the soldiers had said to her and the other ghosts during the orgy, two other tentacles slid over her body…and, without any warning, slammed their way into her cunt and ass at the same time!

Kerrigan screamed around the tentacle fucking her mouth, prompting the vile organ to spray more of its disgusting seed into her mouth, although it never stopped its motions.

They tried to hide you from me. For years, my sight was clouded… but now, you burn brighter than the hottest sun. I can see you now, Kerrigan!

Deep within her mind, the ghost screamed. Her body was in no way made to take an object the side of the ones pistoning up into her from below, and while the scarlet haired ghost could not see it, she was sure she must be breaking underneath the strain, being destroyed and ruined, her body obliterated… and there were two of them. She had never felt so full in all her life, what little of it she remembered, and the sensation stirred in her the primal fear of death that all the psychic ghost conditioning in the world could not erase completely.

Worry not, Kerrigan. You must be broken before you can reforged. Fear not for your body, for your old form will be cast away, replaced by the glory of the Swarm.

If anything, the ferocity with which the slamming tendrils raped her intensified, and she shrieked around the tube filling her throat… or tried to. There was not a shred of air left in her lungs, but somehow her body did not struggle for it, did not seem to need it. 24601 shook violently, like a leaf in a hurricane, but she never budged in the bondage of the silken cocoon.

Outside, among the stars, planets spun by – worlds on fire, worlds at war. A ship of strange construction, possibly belonging to the strange being known as the Protoss, worked in beams of azure light as it rent a Confederacy space station to shrapnel. Second later, she was seeing a Battlecruiser break apart under the assault of tiny, drone like ships with flapping wings that seemed to beat in the vacuum of space, slamming into the vulnerable hulk of a ship and exploding like missiles.

You will know the glory of our kind, Sarah! You shall be my prize, the first among use… my Queen.

24601, Sarah Kerrigan, didn’t want to be anyone’s queen. She didn’t want to be touched anymore, didn’t want to be used, spoken to, touched. She wanted to be alone, and for the pain to all just go away. Still, inexorably, she was flung through space, past worlds she recognized and on through dozens she had never seen before, worlds that were not part of the Confederacy… worlds that crawled with strange beings the likes of which she had never seen, wanted never to see… worlds that had been stripped down to their bedrock, all biomass torn away… worlds that seemed to always be dark, no matter how many sun’s shined down on them.

And then there was one planet, larger than the others, closer, that she was being drawn toward like a magnet. It had a volcanic surface, and Kerrigan imagined she could feel the heat of it from far away in the cold dark of space. Struggling every inch of the way, lashing out with psychic force that was no more effective than her muscles were.

Welcome to my home, my prize. Welcome to your new homeworld of Char.

Kerrigan again tried to scream as the invading tendrils bored deeper into her, seeming to try to penetrate her all the way and meet in her middle. The pumped in and out of her frantically, desperately, and to her horror she realized that they were about to cum, were about to pump a load of seed into her, and the though terrified her more than anything else ever had.

The heat coming from the planet was growing stronger, burning like a savage inferno, and suddenly the ghost realized that it was psychic. She was growing closer to the source of the voice, and his very existence burned her mind like a torch pressed to her skin. The closer she got, the more it hurt… he was like a giant, and she was the ant beneath its vast boot.

She gave one last, pointless attempt to scream…

Just then, at the peak of her frustration and fear, a blue light blossomed within the red inferno of heat and power, spreading across one tiny part of the planet below. The light was cool to her, and she latched onto it desperately, holding onto it for dear life. The pain disappeared then, not only in her mind but in her body as well, and Kerrigan became blissfully numb for a precious second.

Then the connection was broken, not only with the light but with the monstrous voice as well. The heat vanished, as did the touch of silk on her skin, the pounding of the massive cocks within her, the vision of the planet Char before her. She had no idea what had just happened, not knowing that on the real planet far away, a powerful protoss Templar had just encountered the mind of the psychic monstrosity for the first time, and broken their connection. She had no way to know who had saved her, or even that she had been saved. All she knew was that, thankfully, everything was once again dark.

  • – – – –

“Do you know where you are?”

25601 groaned. Her head hurt. She reached up her hand to clutch at her temple, but found it restrained – cuffed to the bed she was laying on. She slowly managed to open her eyes. There was a man standing in the room with her… a man she could not sense. She could sense the bed beneath her, the walls around her and the pulses of electrical power through them, the men and women walking through nearby hallways and sleeping in other rooms… could feel it all far more clearly than she ever had before… but from the man, nothing.

Psi-blocked. He was psi-blocked.

“No,” she said honestly. The word was supposed to come out strong, certain, but it was almost pathetically weak and her voice cracked slightly.

The man came forward and poured a cup slowly against her lips. It was hard to drink like this, but she managed to swallow more of the liquid than she choked on. “You are aboard the Hyperion. Do you remember who you are?”

“Ghost 24…” she let her voice trail off, swallowing. “Sarah Kerrigan.” She didn’t know why she said that, didn’t think of how she had known that name. She just gave it because right now, she couldn’t bear to be simply a number.

“Well then, Sarah. You are a prison of the Sons of Korhal.” The man took a few steps back, tilting his bearded face down to glare at her. “Do you remember why?”

Slowly, reluctantly, Sarah nodded. “I do.”

The voice abruptly became harsher, colder. “Then know this, cunt. The only reason you are still alive is that when you blew out your own neural adjuster, you proved that you might be useful… but you still murdered my father, worthless whore…”

Arcturis Mengsk took a pair of steps back forward again, leading down to grasp his chin in his hand. “And I will make you answer for that, slut… starting right now.”

Kerrigan shuddered, dark memories from the dream spilling over her mind in a confusing haze. The scarlet haired ghost had no idea if the impossible dream had really happened, or not, for as surreal as it seemed there had been nothing surreal about the pain — it had felt real, and she remembered it vividly… like she had been being torn to shards. It made her painfully aware of her nudity as Arcturis hovered just over her, his hand on her face while he looked down her flawless form.

He brought her out of her confused thoughts by twisting her nipple, making her gasp out at the cruel press of his fingers. “I’m going to teach you what happens to murdering Confederate whores,” he said, unbuckling his own pants as he spoke. He stepped up onto the bed, lowering his weight on top of her prone, restrained form. She shuddered as his cock brushed against the inside of her leg, knowing what was coming and helpless to stop it.

The look of sheer hatred in his eyes said clearly that he was beyond reasoning, beyond any ability for her to argue with him. It made her glad that he was psi-blocked… she did not want to see inside his head, did not want to know what he knew. It seemed like every man in the galaxy was a perverted rapist, and she was helpless before them all one after the other.

Then she gave a cry as he sank his weight down onto her crotch, his length sliding into her. She hadn’t realized how much it would hurt… perhaps it was the strange memory of the too-bizare dream, or perhaps the marines had badly damaged something in their own brutal use of her, but it felt like her cunt was on fire, and it burned with agony as Mengsk’s length forced its way inside her.

She grit her teeth, her self-control taxed hard with the task of keeping her from screaming out in pain. Her muscles flexed as she reflexively attempted to escape, but her bonds held fast, allowing her only a few inches of room. Enough to make her writhe so he could enjoy her more, not nearly enough to escape his raging cock, which plunged ever deeper into her sore cunt.

“Hnnngh…” she grunted, arching her back and throwing her head backward. The pain was truly fierce and, after what had already happened to her, she did not have much strength left to resist. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breasts jiggling invitingly as he pushed in deeper, the force of his thrust rocking her entire body forward.

He grunted as he thrust into her, forcing his entire length- which was considerable, stretching her inner walls wider than would be comfortable and far wider than would be painless, especially since he was — probably by intention — unlubricated, and she was as dry as a desert.

“Take that… you… ugh… murderous… cunt…” he grunted, spitting at her while he pumped his cock in her cunt, his eyes alight with hatred and anger. He wanted to hurt her and he was succeeding. The pain in her pussy grew with each thrust and Kerrigan did not know how much longer she could keep both tears and screams inside. “I bet… you thought… it would be easy… right? Bet… you didn’t… expect to get… fucked like the whore you are!” He screamed at her, his breath slamming into Kerrigan’s face, prompting her to turn her face to the side. If she would have been able to cast one glimpse at his mind, she would probably have gone insane.

Which, now that she thought about it, might have been preferable to experiencing this rape in any sane condition.

“This… is only the… hnngh… beginning! I will… make you pay!” He grunted again, increasing his pace, the room filled with the sickening sound of flesh against flesh.

“I… I was… only the… weapon. I only… killed him… but I did not order… the hit,” Kerrigan forced out through clenched teeth. It was unwise, but she could not take responsibility for this, not when it had not been her call to make. Ghosts were weapons. They took orders. This death was not on her. Unfortunately, he did not see it that way.

His reaction was as simple as it was violent. Leaning back, his cock fully impaled within her, he slammed his fist down into her belly, driving the air from her lungs and making her groan in pain. “You shut up!” he yelled, driving his fist into her belly again… before proceeding to rape her with hard, fast thrusts, while at the same time backhanding her across the face again and again and again, until her nose and lips were bleeding and her cheeks a bright red. He did not speak, merely grunted with exertion as he took out his rage upon his rape victim.

Kerrigan thought he was really be trying to kill her now. Any pretense of mercy, or indeed humanity, seemed to have fled from his enraged face, and he beat her like a disobedient dog. The ghost felt herself battered beneath his fists, his barrage of slaps, as her face was snapped back and forth by the pummeling of the enraged rebel leader. She was tough, a trained fighter, but at a certain level that only applied to her mentality, her training, rather than sheer toughness. She was still delicate compared to him, a minimum of 70 kilos less of mass, and to restrained to resist.

He could kill her. He could batter her skull flat, and under the effects of the psi-blockers she couldn’t do a single thing about it. She was too restrained to mount any real resistance, and her psychic powers were useless to her here… if she even dared to use them. Dark in her mind, where she was trying badly not to think about the dream she had had earlier, Kerrigan deeply suspected that using her powers again might lead to a fate significantly worse than death… so she did nothing.

She simply suffered beneath his rape, his beating, like the worn out, tired whore he was set on turning her into.

“God you’re… a tight bitch… for a confederate slut…” Mensk groaned as he moved both of his hands to her tits, leaning his whole weight on them as he squeezed, smashing the sensitive flesh all but flat against her chest. “I would… have thought that… they would have… fucked… any life from this… tight cunt already…”

Kerrigan wanted to scream at him, to tell him that only the rebels would be so cruel as to do this to a woman, to a prisoner. At worst a woman who fell into the care of the confederates would be imprisoned, or might be traded back instead. Still, she held her tongue. As painful as this was, at least he had stopped beating her for the moment.

He drove into her with animal ferocity, growling obscenities at her like a madman while he rutted inside her. It made her want to vomit, but she could do nothing but stare into his furious eyes, gleaming with an undercurrent of madness and cruelty that made her shiver beneath him. She knew that this man was going to kill her… maybe not today, maybe not for a while, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until she was a corpse, knew it as clearly as though she’d pulled it from his mind past the psi-dampeners… and who knew, perhaps she had.

He twisted her tits in his hand as he began pumping into her harder, and she was giving small cries with every thrust now as he threatened to tear them from her chest. “Yes… you’re going to… make me cum you assassin slut…” He thankfully took his hands from her breasts, but Kerrigan’s relief was short lived as he began to slam his fists into her belly again, one after the other, timing it with his thrusts into her, making her body clench and spasm on his cock in sheer breathless agony.

Thank whatever gods watched over the universe it made him cum. The clenching, squeezing agony of her body was too much for him to take, and she felt his cock swell inside her, huge and violent. Then it erupted, flooding her with yet again, leaving her breathless and struggling to recover as he slapped her twice before before he ripped his cock from her body like it would make it dirty, pulling away from the bound ghost, glaring down at her.

“You probably think… you’re going to be killed… Don’t you Kerrigan?” he said between deep breaths. “I’m pleased to tell you that it’s not going to be anywhere near that easy, cunt… not even close to that easy.”

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