by Loki Renard
“Everywhen?”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t,” I smile down at her. She can’t possibly understand everything that has happened while she has been trapped in an ageless simulation.
“Let me explain. The human world, as you knew it, in this particular timeline, exploded several years ago. However, you, my dear Karen, were taken from the original planet many hundreds of years ago by an alien corporation known as Galactor. They took a select number of humans and sprayed the rest of the planet with a mutagenic agent.”
“That’s not possible. I’m only 45.”
“You’re closer to four hundred and forty five,” I tell her.
“I am not! You take that back!”
“You have lived hundreds of lives inside this simulation.”
“I think I would remember that.”
“You would not. We can reset the human mind. It’s just a meat computer. Your memories can be created, erased, entirely fabricated, partially disassembled…”
“You're lying.”
“I am absolutely not. I will show you all of that and more, now that you are behind the veil. In addition to your punishment, you will learn.”
Karen
“My punishment?” The term catches me off-guard and sends a tremor of excitement racing to the parts of me which haven’t felt much in the way of tremors in a very long time. It is no secret that I adore authority. I have tried many times to become authority. In the real world, or what I now know to be a simulated lie, I became an officer of the rules, a bureaucrat capable of imposing regulations on anything I saw fit. It was a glorious existence which has now been cut tragically short.
The alien with the horns does his best to scowl at me, but I can tell this is not his natural demeanor. There is a lightness to this dark creature, a balance to his monstrosity. Some are called to management. Others have management thrust upon them. I sense he is in the latter category.
“You were removed from the simulation for being a disruptive influence. I will punish you and decide your fate when you have been rehabilitated.”
“That can’t be legal.”
“Everything is legal when you make the law,” he says, flashing a sharp smile.
“That's called a dictatorship.”
“Call it what you want, it’s not acceptable.”
“It’s not?” He cocks his head to the side and gives me a fanged smirk.
There is something about this not-a-man who is not a man which gets right under my skin. He’s not taking this seriously. Somehow, I doubt he has ever taken anything seriously. I, on the other hand, take everything seriously.
“You have no right to punish me. I’ve always followed the rules to the letter. And I’ve always done what was right. Now I’m supposed to simply accept your alien brutality, believe that my world is a lie? That my eyes don’t tell me the truth? Let you hurt me for your sick satisfaction? No!”
“Such a brave little thing," he says. “You remind me of a puppy yapping.”
“You remind me of six feet of bullshit all piled on top of itself.”
“Eight feet," he growls.
So he is sensitive about his height. Not so different from a human man after all. For all the horns and the flaming eyes and the muscular power… I swallow as a revelation passes through the core of me. I am somewhat attracted to this beast. Perhaps it is the fact that I haven't been with a man for a very long time. Or maybe fear leads to arousal. Whatever it is, I can feel the wetness growing between my thighs. Usually I would deal with the matter by myself in the dead of night, beneath the covers of my single bed.
"You're very beautiful," he says, suddenly. The compliment catches me off guard, coming as it does after my rather crude insult.
“I am not. Don’t lie to me. You can't flatter me.”
“You are very beautiful," he repeats. “You have an uncommon fortitude in your face and eyes. Most humans are soft. You are hard.”
“Most people just call me a bitch.”
“Like the female dog?”
“Yes.”
“Humans say a lot of stupid things," he says. I find myself agreeing with him.
“They don't appreciate strength in women, especially women of a certain maturity,” he continues. “They want softness and compliance, the pillowy wetness of females yet to truly live. But not I. I like to see strength in a female. All scythkin do.”
“What about your own females?”
"Scythkin matriarchs lay their clutches on conquered planets, then fight to the death defending them from other matriarchs. They don’t make good romantic companions. They expect you to spray your seed on their eggs and get out of the way.”
He sounds almost mournful.
“So you…” I almost hesitate to say it. “You must be lonely.”
An interesting expression passes over his face. It is a mixture of acknowledgement, confusion, anger, and relief. It passes quickly into a more controlled state.
“Loneliness is not common to our kind. We usually travel in the same groups we were hatched in. I am part of a clutch of many dozens of my kind. But ruling over the simulation changes that. I am here alone.”
“I ruled over my simulation alone,” I say. “It was an apartment, but… I was alone most of the time. People don’t like me very much.”
The last thing I expected to do today was relate to a massive alien stranded running a simulation of humans, but I suspect I am going to have to revise my expectations for the contents of any given day going forward.
We gaze at one another, the way people do in movies. Time stretches out into a small eternity as we simultaneously wonder if we might have finally met what some people would call “the one”. I feel magic in the air which intangibly crackles with tension and possibility.
“I still need to punish you,” he intones. “You broke the rules.”
“If I broke the rules, then I suppose you’ll have to…”
“Punish you. That's what I've been saying.”
“Yes,” I smile. “Punish me."
I no longer fear this alien, or his punishment. If he was going to hurt me, he wouldn't need to talk to me. He would just do it. I can see that nature made him to be violent, but he is making the choice not to be with me. I don’t think he's going to hurt me. I think he’s bored. I think he's lonely. I think he's been waiting for a woman just like me.
“Krave put his human in a cell,” Tyank says, as if I’m supposed to know who Krave is. “But it didn’t work, and I don’t think it will work with you either. You, Karen, need a more personal touch.”
Oh yes. I want to be touched personally. I want to be touched all over, long and hard. I want to be taught the lessons this alien has in store for me. I want him to make me sorry, and I want him to make me his. These are intense feelings for a non-human creature I only just met, but instinct is telling me that this is the reason I always found human males wanting. They were put off by my abrasive behavior. They feared a strong, independent woman who did not need them. They didn’t like it when I’d harangue service staff over cold soup. But this alien will not care about any of those things, I’m willing to bet.
“So, how will you teach me a lesson?”
"What would you do, in my position?”
“What would I do if I were an alien with horns who runs the entire world in the form of a simulation, controlling the lives of the inhabitants at his whim? Hm. I’d be very happy.”
Tyank smirks at me. “So that is what you are hungry for, Karen. Power?”
“Maybe.”
"I don’t think so,” he growls softly. "I think what you really want more than anything is to have power taken from you. To be at the lustful mercy of a male who can handle you, who isn’t afraid of you. I've seen your file, Karen. You’ve terrified every man you've ever met. Including the one who called himself your husband."
He knows too much about me. I hate the reference to Keith. We wer
e married for three months a lifetime ago. He left me for another woman, one he’d been cheating on me with the entire time we’d been engaged.
“If you want me to be lustful, mentioning my ex is a bad move,” I scowl.
“You still care about him? Keith?”
I cringe at hearing his name. I have done my best to forget Keith and yet here we are, discussing him.
“I don't care about him. I hate him.”
“Would it please you to know he remains captive inside a simulation while you alone know the truth?”
“I don’t alone know the truth, your friend told everybody the truth. They didn't want to hear it. They asked to be made to forget.”
“True,” Tyank says. “Humans like to avoid discomfort where possible. But not you, Karen. You move toward it. You court it. You choose it again, and again, and that makes you different.”
Is that admiration in his voice? He is supposed to be punishing me, and I am supposed to be complaining to him, but neither one of us seem to be doing what we are supposed to be. This is all very irregular. I rather like it.
“You don’t know me,” I say, more or less just for something to say.
“I reviewed your records, Karen. I told you that. I know you as much as anybody can.”
I have to say I am impressed with his general efficiency. The brutality of his appearance belies a creature who does his homework. I am intrigued. I am also very much behind the curve. I don’t know anything about Tyank, besides he is the alien in charge of the lie which I have inhabited for a very long time. Curiosity and desire war within me. I can't stop looking at him. He’s so powerful, and the way the sharp ridged blades rise and fall over his body is mesmerizing as he flexes with what appear to be subconscious movements. I reach out to touch one on his arm. He flinches away, but it is too late. There is blood on my finger where the blade sliced me, so sharp I didn’t even feel it.
I look at the beading red fluid. So I am still human. Still real. Even if nothing else is.
“Why did you do that?!" He growls, his brows drawing down over his eyes, his entire demeanor becoming immediately stern.
I have no answer for him.
Taking my wrist in his hand, he marches me from the laundry basket room through a series of halls. “That was very foolish," he lectures. "I am dangerous. Can you not see that? We are designed to kill. You should not touch me without warning, little human.”
I note that he has retracted all the sharp surfaces across his body. He looks strange without them, like a bearded man does when he shaves.
“Would somebody bring me human bandages!” He shouts the order and the little round headed big mouthed creatures spring into action like sprites, appearing seemingly out of nowhere to do his bidding.
He is a creature of great authority, but instead of letting the lesser aliens mend me, he tends to me himself in a room which looks like a transit lounge. There is little in the way of decorations, just smooth metal brushed walls and a hard plate floor. It is furnished sparsely, and with no regard for aesthetics.
“Be careful, Karen,” he says, my name warm on his lips. “Reality is so much more dangerous than the simulation you have been inhabiting. You can be seriously injured here and find yourself very much not yourself.”
He relinquishes my now bandaged finger and looks at me, his horns pricked forward with what I think must be interest. We are sitting on a couch, though it is a very large one clearly not made for a person of my proportions. I feel as though I am Gulliver, having voyaged to a world very similar to my own and yet very different.
“What am I going to do with you?” He murmurs the question more to himself than me, though I have some ideas. He can take his alien pants off and show me what alien thickness lies beneath them. He is shirtless, but he evidently felt the need for some modesty on the lower half of his body. I wonder what rough ridges might be hiding beneath the leather-like pants stretched tight over his powerful thighs.
I am not commonly what some people would call thirsty, but I am aroused. I might even be about to make the first move, something I haven’t had the courage to do in decades. My ex made me feel ugly, and I have carried that with me through every male interaction I’ve had since. But Tyank changes the entire paradigm of attraction. If the world I have always lived in is a lie, then maybe the rules that say respectable women don’t sleep with rakish males upon first meeting them is a lie too.
“You say you’re the manager. Prove it. Manage me.”
His eyes flare with my challenge. There is heat between us like I have never felt before, an attraction which demands a meeting of bodies. It intensifies over the following seconds, becoming something too powerful for either one of us to resist.
“You want me to manage you? I’ll manage you,” he growls, reaching for me, and standing me up in front of him between his legs. He is keeping control of me, but allowing me just enough freedom to do exactly what he wants.
I am excited. I have been taken outside my world and because of that I am free to do anything. Be anything. His next command makes me blush, but also increases my excitement even more, sending tingles of naughtiness rushing through me.
“I want to see you, Karen. I want to see your soft, bare body.”
No man has wanted to see me in a very long time. If he has, I've outright rejected him. I've had no time for men. I've had no time for anything besides sitting at home, going to work, and thinking I was doing the right, responsible thing. Now it turns out the universe is run by a clockwork madness in which there can be no right thing.
I feel lost. Afraid. But also, desired. The alien looks at me with the kind of hunger I remember from the brief days of what I believed to be my early twenties. I was young once. Attractive once. My hair was not cut in a short and efficient style, it flowed like a golden river over my back. Everybody smiled at me. I fell in love. I got married. I was lied to. Cheated on. And finally, divorced.
It was a mistake I will never make again. But I figure there is no real danger of falling in proper human love with an alien such as this. So I do as he says.
My sensible clothing falls to the floor. The white blouse I always wear because white is the color you can get to look the cleanest and starchiest, and it shows all flaws, so when you are flawless, others know. My blazer and the stiff skirt I wear to look professional follow. Shoulder pads drop beside them, followed by sensible beige bra and panties, peeled from my breasts and thighs without shame. He is looking at me with too much admiration for me to be shy of my body, which bears all the marks of fourty-five years of existence, all the softness, the stretching, the heavy weight of breasts which once sat much higher. Tyank gazes upon everything I have always sought to hide with an expression of admiration bordering on worship.
“Ah, you see, you are truly a fine woman in every sense of the word,” he says in that deep devilish voice which makes me want to give in to his every whim. This alien is charming me, casting a spell I do not want to be released from. Here, with Tyank, I am safe. I sense that in the very core of me, even as his fiery eyes roam my body with the strange hunger which in turn awakens my own desire.
I’m going to fuck an alien.
I’m going to let a beast from the stars inside me.
He seems to think this will be punishment, but it has been many years since I was ravished by a man, and never by one with the powerful musculature and absolute presence this one has. I will give myself to him. I will let him take me, and I will take just as much from him in return.
I wait for him to stand up and take his pants off, but it turns out that he doesn't need to. He simply flexes and the sharp blades which cover him from head to toe spring out, turning his clothing into instant rags which fall away as the blades retreat, leaving a very thick prominent ridge awaiting me.
His cock is incredible, a thick protrusion of silvery hardness gleaming at the tip with what looks like wet diamond dew. I find myself staring at it, the girth and length much greater than any human man. How w
ill I ever take that inside me?
“Straddle me, human," he growls, reaching for me and drawing me onto his lap. I have never felt this soft and feminine before, totally vulnerable as my thighs spread to allow me to rest against his powerful body. I feel that rough ridge pressing against my lower belly as his massive hands roam my flesh, caressing, squeezing, exploring me. One hand drifts up my back, over my neck, snakes into my hair and takes masterful hold of my blonde locks.
I am held in place and Tyank captures me in a kiss. This is my first alien contact, his tongue snaking into my mouth, playing in an incredibly agile way with my own as his other hand cups my ass, pulls me up against his hard body - and then presses me back down.
My hips thrust forward, searching for that thick alien rod which I know must be buried inside me. He has no idea the need I have been repressing, or how much wildness resides inside my dour exterior.
Tyank
This woman was formal, stiff, cold, but in my arms she comes to fiery life. I worried that I might hurt her when I claimed her, for as much as she is mine to punish, I do not want to do her any real harm. I think she is beautiful. It has been far too long since anyone has matched wits and wills with me the way she does.
I kiss her and she kisses me back, our tongues dueling. She is so much smaller, inherently weaker, but I feel the power inside this woman flare against my own. No wonder my broodkin wanted her out of the simulation. She is pure trouble, inside and out. I caress her body, pinch her nipples lightly and watch her eyes light up and her toes curl, her thighs spreading of their own accord and her hips arching that golden topped mound toward me.
The scent of her desire hangs between us, her wet human need driving me near mad with lust. I wanted to draw this out, make it a matter of domination, but I feel myself pulled to her, my cock thick with desire, the head of my flesh finding the place where her body was made to welcome conquerors.
We let out a mutual moan of relief as I slide her down onto my impaling cock. She is tight. She is so fucking tight it is as though I can feel every part of her, her entire being wrapped around my dick. I look down into her pleasure flushed face and I hold her in place and thrust hard, sliding out and then in again, making her feel my cock all the way to the core of her.