Possessive Aliens: Dark Scifi Romance Box Set

by Loki Renard

  “What do you mean it wasn’t you? Who was it that pulled this panel off?” I step out and yell to Tarkan up front. “Hit the bedroom breaker before we burn up out here.”

  She tosses that golden red hair defiantly and looks at me with those dark eyes that are oh so human and filled with challenge. She’s not afraid of me. When we first met she couldn’t maintain consciousness in the presence of our true forms. Now she looks at me as I am and finds it in herself to disobey me.

  “One, you have to stay in this room. And, may I add, if I need to, it is important that you do not dismantle the ship. There are vulnerable systems in the walls, dangerous ones too. You could kill yourself, and I’d rather you didn’t do that.”

  She nods slowly, and I think that perhaps she has understood my calm but firm censure. I am familiar with methods of disciplining humans. I even engaged in some of them myself when I mated with humans many hundreds of years ago. They enjoyed the discipline as part of their sexual experience. I learned that for some women, pleasure and pain were intimately linked. I don’t know if that is the case for One, but I know that I will discipline her very sternly if she keeps disobeying me.

  “Okay,” she says. “I won’t pull that panel off that door again.”

  That’s not good enough. She’s promising specific things because she plans to disobey me in some other way.

  “I mean it. You are putting yourself in danger - and you are far too precious to be in danger. I will keep you safe even from yourself.”

  “That’s nice,” she says. “But I’m still going to listen to what you say about me, and what we’re going to do. And I’m going to have an opinion about it. And I’m going to tell you what that opinion is. And if I don’t like what I hear, then I’m going to go my own way.”

  “Your own way.”

  “Yes.”

  I know she is used to being independent, but this is ridiculous. She knows she can’t survive on her own. She has had a brush with Scythkin command before. She felt the pain of interrogation. I suppose I should take this rebellion as a sign that she is feeling safe enough to have forgotten the terror she experienced. Or maybe she’s just covering that fear with bravado. Whatever it is, I’m not going to tolerate it.

  “You, young lady, are not going your own way. You are going my way, whether you like it or not.”

  I would have thought that warning, growled in a tone usually reserved for enemies who are about to be taken apart in one way or another, would be enough to dissuade her, but she makes a gesture at me that I am fairly certain is rude in her context. It’s definitely rude in mine.

  “I’m going to put you back in your containment chamber, and you can think about behaving vs misbehaving.”

  “You put me back in that glass jar and I will bite you every time I see you.”

  Quite a threat from a girl with blunt canines.

  We are locked in a battle of wills I never saw coming. I thought the more time I spent with her, the more she would become attached to me, the more she would become an eager follower. I thought she would imprint on me, trust me in every regard. I didn’t think she’d disagree with me, rip panels off walls to get out of rooms I left her in, and hog the bed covers. Tarkan and I have shared that brood bed for hundreds of years and suddenly it isn’t big enough for me and one small human who seems to expand to fill the available space as if the moment she gets into bed she becomes liquid.

  “Don’t make threats to me, little human.”

  “Don’t try and lock me up,” she snarks right back. “And I won’t threaten you.”

  “Last chance,” I growl. “You’re going to get a spanking if you don’t start behaving.”

  She stares at me. I could swear her eyes have changed color since we began our journey. They have always been brown, but from time to time they flash a very earthy red. I think it is probably merely refraction from the instrument panel above the bed, but it gives her quite an intense appearance.

  “Spank?”

  I realize she doesn't know what the word means. Not surprising. She obviously wasn’t disciplined living most of her life alone in the ravaged world. That’s going to change now.

  “It means I’m going to slap your bottom.”

  “It means I’m going to slap your bottom,” she repeats in a high pitched tone. It takes me a second to work out what is happening. She is mocking me. To my face.

  Unbelievable. Totally unacceptable.

  One scowls at me, lowering her soft brows over her eyes, as if looks are going to make a difference to a creature like me. She could be twice as tall and twice as large and she still would be no match for my strength. But it’s not strength that is at question here. It’s will. This little human has more willpower in her littlest finger than many Scythkin have in their entire bodies. She refused to lie down and die on Earth, even when it would have been easier than survival. But that also means she refuses other impositions on her life. Like rules, and order.

  One

  I feel a tingling running down my spine and through my fingers as well as my toes. I’m excited. I don’t know why I suddenly like challenging Reaper so much, but it certainly breaks the boredom which has begun to sink into my bones. I am used to just barely surviving by my wits alone, but here on the ship there is no difficulty in survival. Everything is here. Food. Water. Shelter. All perfectly controlled to be entirely comfortable at all times.

  He strides across the room and takes hold of me by the wrist. I try to bite him like I said I would, but he has all sorts of strange configurations on his arms, and throughout much of his body which protects the soft biteable parts from teeth. I don’t understand why my body wasn’t made that way too. Why am I so soft and vulnerable to everything? It is just one of many universal unfairnesses that I have to put up with.

  “Before I spank your bottom long and very hard, young lady,” he said sternly. “Care to tell me why you can’t behave yourself? Why I have to resort to this physical means of discipline which is more appropriate for a juvenile human, not a fully grown adult.”

  I narrow my eyes and shrug my shoulders and otherwise employ every part of my body to show my general disdain for the question itself.

  “One,” he growls. “I expect respect from you, and respect means you address me in language when I ask you a question.”

  “I can behave myself. I am behaving myself right now. If I wasn’t behaving myself then I wouldn’t even be here. Or I would be, but I would just be a blank robot girl, like you seem to want me to be.”

  I’m not used to answering to anyone for what I do or say or think. I don’t think I like it. And, on top of everything, Reaper has been acting strange ever since we flew away from the completely destroyed Earth. He’s very grumpy. He won’t tell me what is going on. He tells me it’s not my problem, but this is way too small a ship to have secrets on.

  “I know you’re trying to stop me from understanding something,” I say. “You say you’re educating me, but you’re just telling me to sit down and be quiet when we’re not having sex. And where is Tarkan? Why does he get to go off the ship when I can’t?”

  “Because he’s not the only human left in the entire universe,” he says. “Because you’re not a nine foot tall Scythkin warrior capable of defending yourself in a very hostile environment.”

  “So this is it? For the rest of my life? I live in your little ship and I do what you say?”

  “That’s right.”

  I press my lips together. When I first met Reaper, there is no way I would ever have argued with him, but I am beginning to get my footing in this new world which is far too small to contain me. I was made for more than this.

  “I don’t agree to that.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you agree to,” he says. “I’m the commander of this ship. You belong to me. You will do as I s…”

  “Wait a minute,” I say. “You think I… belong to you? Like, a toy or a really nice water collection system?”

  “You’re mine,”
he says firmly. “I’m going to keep you, look after you, educate you. There is so much you need to learn. Like doing as you’re told.”

  “I don’t like that idea.”

  “I don’t care if you like it. It’s what’s happening.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  But it is. Reaper takes me by the hand, sits down on the bed, and pulls me right over his lap. For a second I think it is a sex thing, but it doesn’t make any sense. My holes don’t align with either of his cocks in this position, though I can feel his hardness rubbing up against my hip.

  “I am in command of this vessel, and everyone on it,” he says. “I am your owner. You are my girl. And every time you’re deliberately disobedient or try to rebel against me, this is going to happen.”

  His hand lands across my cheeks, sending a bolt of pain through my flesh. It hurts, of course, but it does more than hurt too. It gives my mind something to focus on and rebel against. Yes. This is what I have been missing. A challenge to overcome.

  His palm lands again, the leathery skin of his hand slapping my very tender flesh. Most of my body has been conditioned over the the years to the harsh climate of the desert, but my ass is the most sensitive part of my body that isn’t overtly sexual.

  I can’t help but find the position embarrassing. There’s something about being over his lap, feeling my stomach press against his thighs, his strength so overwhelming and so disciplinary. I’ve been naughty, and now I am being punished. It’s such a simple dynamic, but not one I’ve experienced before. My mother never disciplined me. We spent our entire lives locked in survival mode. There was no room for disobedience, fun, or play. Everything we did was so we could live another minute, another hour, another day.

  But this new world, this small world with Reaper and Tarkan, there is room here for everything. For disobedience, fun, chaos. And I want to explore it all. Even the parts that hurt. Like this.

  “It hurts! You… you… bully!”

  “Bully?” He laughs and slaps me again. “You disobeyed me, One. You were warned you would be punished, and you chose to continue to behave the same way. You asked for this. You wanted to have your bottom spanked.”

  “Ow! Ow! Owww! I definitely didn’t!”

  But I did. I did want to know what it would feel like, what he would do. I know Reaper is dangerous, but he’s been tender, caring, romantic, sweet, even. I think I might need more from a man - or from a nine foot horned and fanged demon alien.

  My ass is getting hotter and hotter. My skin feels tighter and tighter. I could swear that he is spanking harder and faster now, intensifying the punishment, making it clear that he is not playing, even if I am.

  “Reaper! Please!”

  “What are you asking for?”

  “Please stop… this!”

  I am wriggling back and forth, up and down, round and round, my legs kicking and my toes curling as he whips my cheeks with the tips of his fingers now, hot little gnat like stings biting me all over my bottom, intensifying the all over heat.

  “Do you understand me?” He growls the question, showing no signs of showing mercy to me, his arm and palm imparting this damn pain which I invited but now cannot escape.

  “I understand!” I gasp.

  “Mhm.” He stops slapping my bottom, but the heat sears on. I hear myself whimper, as a series of realizations sink into my body along with the heat. It has not been easy adjusting to life with other sentient creatures. I have made all my own decisions for years, but now Reaper makes the decisions. I’ve been rebelling against that since I felt better. I’ve been trying to assert myself, and I’ve been taking out my anger too. I miss Earth. It was terrible, but it was my home, and now it is gone.

  “I don’t think I’m done,” he says, starting all over again.

  “OW! No! I’m done! I’m good!”

  “You're not good, and I’m not done,” he says firmly, his palm catching my cheeks with a swat that makes my hips rise off his lap before he pushes me back down into position and makes sure I stay there, one firm hand on the small of my back, the other swinging against my rear over and over, leaving me to wail helplessly.

  I was playing at rebellion, but he’s not playing at discipline. I don’t know when he’s going to stop, or if he’s going to stop. I know I pushed him with misbehavior to find out what was going to happen, and now I know.

  He’s going to stop me from misbehaving. He’s going to punish me when I’m naughty. And what is and isn’t naughty is defined by him. I used to choose what I was going to do, within the very limited parameters of my dirt cave. Now the universe is at my feet, and it is Reaper who decides what is allowed.

  I should hate him for that. I should demand complete freedom, but I can’t. I am writhing in the pain I sought out for myself.

  “Please! Stop!”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because it hurts! It’s too much! I’m too frail.”

  “You are not too frail,” he says, pausing for one blessed moment. “You’re sore, and maybe you’re starting to feel sorry, but I’m guessing you just didn’t expect there to be any real discipline on this ship. Not surprising given you’ve seen how Tarkan acts.”

  “What does Tarkan matter in this?”

  “He’s a bad influence. Since we met he’s been disobeying me. It’s the only reason we found you.”

  “So disobedience is good sometimes… OW!”

  “No!” He growls, swatting my bottom hard again. “You haven’t been around many people in your life. You were living alone when we found you.”

  “Just my mother. She died.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  I’d believe he was more sorry if he wasn’t still spanking me. It’s not as hard, but he’s swatting me lightly, keeping the fire in my flesh alive. I can’t stay still. I squirm back and forth in an effort to spread it around. That’s all I can do, spread the pain, take it and withstand it, and hope that it ends soon.

  “You haven’t been around many people. Tarkan and I are the only two people you can learn from. And I intend to make damn sure that Tarkan isn’t the one you take after.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because…” he pauses and his hand stills. “Because he’s the one who found you. He’s the one who rescued you from the council. And he’s the one you act like.”

  Wait. Is there some question in Reaper’s mind that he is my mate? It never occurred to me that a creature of his size or strength could ever have a vulnerability, but now I see clearly that I am it.

  “You’re the one I mated with. You’re the one I feel safe with. You’re the one who cares if I’m good or bad. I’m sorry I was naughty. I am!”

  “You were naughty,” he says, his voice warmer. “You were very, very naughty.”

  Reaper

  She’s mine. It’s never been a question for her, I realize. I thought I was in contest with Tarkan, a contest I won, but still, one I might lose if she decides she wants him. Listening to her now, I see that she never actually wanted him. It also occurs to me that she's never even mentioned him. Aside from the kidnap and rescue situations, she and he have barely interacted at all.

  She’s truly mine. In every way. And this naughtiness isn’t true rebellion. It’s what some human women do when they want to feel the strength of their mate. Her bottom is a rosy red, both her cheeks lit with my discipline. The soft petals of flesh between her thighs are wet with arousal, further demonstrating her acceptance and desire.

  I have been punishing her, in part, for my own concerns. And because she went out of her bratty way to deserve it.

  I press my finger, claw retracted, into the little space between those lips. Feeling her wet warmth wrapped around that digit makes my mating organs rise. I need to fuck her. I need to hold her down and push myself inside her.

  “Was I bad?” She asks the question in a pouting little voice, another innate human trait, as far as I can tell. There are all sorts of programs running inside her, natural tendencies
to provoke, and to tease, and to want to be claimed, and to be corrected by the one who loves her.

  “You were bad,” I growl.

  “I think I might be a bad girl, Reaper,” she moans as I toy with her wet little slit which only gets wetter the more I touch her. “I think I might always have been a bad girl.”

  “That’s not a problem,” I tell her. “I am used to disobedience, and I know how to handle it. I know how to handle you.”

  One

  Yes he does. He has always known how to handle me, when I was weak, when I was sick, when I was lost, when I was scared, when I was so aroused I couldn’t handle it, and when I wanted to give into the little devil inside me, which has never been able to have any expression before.

  He taps my clit lightly, then runs his finger down and taps the entrance of my sex lightly. It’s like being spanked, but there’s no pain, there’s just stimulation which excites and makes me writhe my hips against his hand.

  “Are you going to fuck me, please?”

  He makes a rough animal sound deep in his throat and I feel him throb against me.

  “Oh yes, I am going to fuck you. I am going to make your entire body quake with pleasure. You are going to scream for me, One. You are going to give me every part of you.” He taps my pussy with three fingers and this time it’s not like a slap. It is a slap. He’s giving me a light little pussy spanking, teasing me in spite of the explicit words.

  In the end, it is not my pussy he takes. He slides me from his lap and lays me on the bed. I feel him touching my bottom and my sex all over with soft, teasing laps and strokes of his fingers and tongue. Reaper weaves a sexual spell I cannot escape from, my hot and stinging sex ready for him whenever he wants to take me. I couldn’t resist him if I wanted to - and I don’t want to. I accept his control, because it makes me safe.

  “Wha…”

  I half form the question as his fingers leave my pussy and find the tighter, smaller hole which sits higher up between my cheeks. He slides so slowly inside my bottom hole, stretching me wide with slow motions of his fingers. Surely my body wasn’t made to be explored there. I wasn’t supposed to be filled in that dark little hole. But Reaper doesn’t care, because there isn’t any part of me that doesn’t belong to him.