Performance Evaluation (M/F)

Here's another lood for u, senpais! M/F, Human/Jornissian, Twink-abuse. Because you should always abuse your twinks.

- - - - - 

Ailean made his way down the hall, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with the other individuals in the corridor. Which, frankly, was easy, seeing as how they all stood several feet over him. Stood... that was an interesting word, and one that he never thought he’d attribute to a giant alien snake-woman. Or . . . snake-man he supposed, but it was the snake-women he’d paid the most attention to since arriving on the ship several months ago.
 

He looked down at the ‘dress uniform’ that had arrived outside his quarters the other night. Dress described it adequately, though it wasn’t exactly what he thought of when he considered a dress uniform. Perhaps it was the lack of proper pants. It made sense for snakes, but the skin-tight fabric he was wearing now left little to the imagination - thankfully, the hem of the uniform’s top came down just above his knees.
 His hands were nervously fidgeting, flitting between straightening out his uniform to fixing his hair and back again. He was on his way to his first Jornissian performance evaluation, after all, and the last thing he wanted was for it to also be his last evaluation. Not that he was in any danger, per se, but he did want to keep his job.
 

 He kept careful note of which doors he was passing, which hallways - he was still getting his bearings for the ship, and the last thing he wanted was to ring the wrong bell. He now stood (by his reckoning) just outside the door leading to the captain’s quarters, wringing his hands nervously in front of him. Carefully, he checked the portal’s designation, then again He had already been dreading his performance evaluation, but when he had heard the captain herself would be the one making it . . . he reached up and checked his hair again. Everything had to be perfect. Once he was satisfied his fiery red bob-cut was straight and in order, he tentatively reached across and keyed the door panel, to let the captain know he was stood outside the door.

The massive portal slid open with a hiss moments later, to reveal a room black as pitch. He poked his head inside nervously, looking around, maybe there had been some sort of mistake, a scheduling error? He turned after a moment to leave when a voice called to him from within.   

 “[Ailean, come.]”   

  He froze, turning around to face the room again, scanning it carefully with his emerald eyes.

   “C-captain?” He took a careful step through the door, looking for her uncertainly when it shut behind her, closing him in almost complete darkness. The first thing that struck him was that the room was hot, almost unbearably slow. He took another step into the room, and quickly found something hot and smooth pressing into his back. As a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind he gasped and froze, only to be lifted up off the ground. Something warm and slick tickled his his ear as his captor hissed over his shoulder.   
 

 “[You must be hot in that uniform.]”
 

 “C-captain Crystal??” Ailean asked again, still uncertain that it was indeed her that had grabbed him. Usually he could identify her from her vibrant orange, brown and black scales, and those piercing, golden-yellow eyes.

“[I want to see more of that pale, freckled skin of yours. It is not unlike our patterns, and I find it most exotic,]” she hissed to him, and he could feel her hands already beginning to remove his clothing.   
 

 “Captain, this . . . this seems very . . . inappropriate,” he nervously replied, doing his best to keep still, neither helping nor hindering her efforts.
 

 “[This is your performance evaluation. I am going to evaluate your performance.]”

  He could feel as the two of them slid across the room in darkness, and as she set him down amidst what felt like a bed of burning-hot sand. The captain’s tail tucked itself under the band of what had passed for his uniform’s pants, tugging them down quickly. Now he was certain it was sand, as his bare skin rested against it. He rolled over to keep his rear off the bed, only for Ksshaa’s hands to begin massaging his thighs.   

  “[Simply lovely,]” she murmured from somewhere above him. He tried to push himself up into a kneeling position, but quickly found himself pressed back down by a powerful hand.   
 

 “U-uhm . . . how can you see . . . like this?” Ailean asked nervously, turning his head to attempt to look back at her, only to realize the futility of it.   
 

 “[Put simply, I can see what you call heat - and I can see how it’s increasing in your face and . . . elsewhere.]”

  He knew he should be arguing, fighting, resisting somehow, but . . . frankly, he was getting exactly what he had wanted from the moment he had boarded the ship - and maybe she knew that. In fact, as he felt her finger begin to press against the puckered ring now so prominently exposed by her efforts to control him. As it sank into him, smooth scales tugging at the skin as they passed, he could feel his body relax. The nervousness was gone, and as that scaly digit pressed against his insides in all the ways he imagined it might, he realized that he hadn’t be worried that she would take advantage of him, but rather that she wouldn’t. Her finger began slowly working its way in and out of him, and he began mewling and moaning softly under her tender attentions.   

  “[Perhaps I will have you reassigned to my cabin. I had no idea you would be so receptive,]” she teased, running her free hand along his back.   

  “[And I most certainly was not monitoring your personal logs on the matter,]” she added, before giving him a light swat on the rear. He shuddered - the idea that she had somehow been watching him was almost too much. A thick drip of his precum drooled from the tip of his engorged shaft and into sand, and each additional firm nudge of her finger against his prostate coaxed another small bead out of him and into the sand. Before too much longer, there was a wet patch between his knees from where his arousal had gathered. He was moaning and panting rather loudly, sweating as a result of the heat in the room and of the bed beneath him.   
 

“[You’re wet,]” Ksshaa mused as she swept him up in her arms, finger still buried inside him.   
 

“Sweat . . . it’s so hot . . .” Ailean replied, trying to steady himself as she lifted him. He shuddered as her tongue ran down along his chest and abdomen, before circling around his member.   
 

“[Curious,]” she tittered through her mouthful, before her triangular snout darted forward, engulfing him. Her tongue began to stroke him in a way he was intimately familiar with, it almost felt as if she had a third hand around it as one continued working his back door, and the other was massaging his chest.  After a moment, the finger disappeared from within him, and he felt an cool emptiness for a moment before the pressure against his taut rear. It grew until finally disappearing inside, and he suddenly became aware of two separate digits.   
 

They began wriggling and spreading inside him, stretching him out as they began to stroke the little ball of pleasure inside him from either side. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, though only enough to make out her silhouette, the massive diamond-shaped hood bobbing up and down slightly above him. It was becoming too much for him, the sensation of her hot, slick mouth around him, her fingers wriggling inside him. He felt himself tense up, his muscular ring squeezing down on her fingers as he let out a high-pitched, ecstatic cry. His tool twitched inside the muscular wrap of her tongue as he climaxed. He was vaguely aware of a small bulge in her throat as she swallowed his seed.   
 She pulled her lips away, letting his softening tool flop free of her grasp and hang against his thigh. She withdrew her fingers next, letting him gently down onto the sand.   
 

“[I will have to requisition a toy for us to play with for next time. For now, it seems I will need to improvise, as I am far from finished with you.]”
 

“S-so . . . do I call you . . . mistress now or something?”
 

 “[Hm? No, nothing so . . . overt. Captain is fine.]”
 Ailean began to sit up, only to feel his chest pressed back down. Her other hand lifted both of his thighs, keeping his knees together as she did so.   

  “[Down,]” she stated, powerfully as she did so, “[So I can help you get your malehood erect again.]” It was difficult to tell whether she meant that as a disparaging comment about his size, or about his . . . role in this blossoming relationship, but either way he found himself surprisingly comfortable with what he might have considered humiliating. Perhaps that was exactly it, he mused to himself, before he was interrupted by a new pressure between his legs. This was smooth and scaly like her fingers, but much broader.   
 

 He let out a gasp as she shoved it inside, and it felt as if she was shoving her entire arm inside him. It took him a moment to recover from the surprise, at which point he realized it was the tip of her tail which had filled the emptiness he felt. It didn’t even take another thrust before he was already beginning to harden again, though as her hand held him against the sandy floor she began working her tail in and out of him. It was slow at first, it was clear she wasn’t trying to hurt him - a realization that helped him to relax, in turn allowing her to push deeper inside him. Before too much longer he could feel more of his pre drooling down from the tip of his shaft, as if the pumping of her tail was pushing it out of him.   
 

 “[Much better,]” she hissed pleasantly, before removing her hand from his chest. It was quickly replaced with her body, her smooth underbelly pressing him down as he felt her own genital slit rub against the head of his tool. He didn’t have even a moment to react, to say anything, before she had pushed herself down on him. Impaling herself on his member, it was only moments before her slit was pushed up against his skin. It felt almost like her tongue wrapping around him, though this time it was all-encompassing. It began stroking, pulling at him, as if she desired to pull him inside of her. As her body completely covered him, pressing him into the floor, it felt as if that is exactly what was happening. While foreign, he found the sensation to be beyond anything he could have imagined - like a perverse form of bondage he’d only experience in dreams.   
 

 The thrusting of her tail and the pull of her sex quickly fell into sync, so that everything thrust was accompanied by a tug - like he was being milked. Nothing came, however. Or rather, he didn’t. In fact, it felt as if he was empty, as if what she was trying to pull out of him wasn’t there. The moments dragged on into minutes, and although he could feel as if his climax was moments away, he could never manage to reach it. His lilting, almost musical moans filled the dark room, and though his mind was hazy he could at least make out a pair of piercing, golden eyes watching him intently, from only inches away. As her tongue flitted out he could feel it tickle his nose, though he was too lost in the throes of the pleasured, unending climactic rise she was dragging him through.   

  It wasn’t until the white sparkle of fangs appeared as she opened her mouth above him, mere centimeters from his face, that he felt that climax finally catch up with him. He couldn’t tell if anything actually . . . came out, but he didn’t care. As the adrenaline of the sensation of somehow being her prey overwhelmed him, he lost himself to another long, dragging moan. 

His mind emptied out, as if emptying itself into her sex, as he felt himself tense up. His arms attempted to wrap around her abdomen in vain as he felt nothing but intense, mindless satisfaction. As his eyes came back into focus and as his mind returned to him, he found her stroking his hair, licking his cheek. The lights were up, at least enough so he could see the massive, reddish-orange viper resting atop him without straining his eyes.   
 

 “[Your kin are cute,]” she began as she continued stroking his hair, “[but I suspect you are the cutest.]”
 

“You . . . think so?” he groaned from beneath her, his breath short from both the exertion and from having some of her weight pressing down on him. That disappeared shortly, however, as she lifted herself off him rolling over onto her side next to him. A single strand of thick arousal hung between him half-mast member and her genital slit, and he could feel as her upper body curled around him, giving his head a place to rest as he caught his breath.   
 

 “Captain?”

  “[Yes, Ailean?]”

“What else does a cabin boy do?”

“[Who said I was making you my cabin boy?]” she teased, grinning as she pulled a small band of leather out from somewhere behind her. It hung on her finger suggestively above Ailean’s head, and his own face began to spread into a broad, eager smile.