Alien Embrace

by Tracy St. John

  “Good girl,” Flencik sighed, sliding to the back of her throat, his gradual movement giving her time to relax and resist the gag reflex. His cinnamon flavor saturated her senses.

  Flencik pumped his hips, taking Amelia’s mouth with deliberate, measured thrusts. He was hot against her tongue, the vein on the underside of his organ throbbing. She looked up the chiseled length of his torso, at his arm muscles bunching to take the majority of his weight, at his dark eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he watched himself disappear between her lips.

  Despite the earlier attentions of Rajhir and Breft, her sex ached with desire. She was soaked again. Amelia wished one of the other men would fill her there while Flencik used her mouth.

  Flencik’s lubrication flowed freely. Each time he drew back from the warmth of her mouth, Amelia sucked his juices greedily. She had always delighted in his flavor, but hunger made him more delicious than ever. She rubbed her tongue against him, hoping he would climax in her mouth so she might fill her empty stomach with his seed.

  Instead the Imdiko withdrew, his eyes narrowed as if guessing what she wanted. He dismounted and stepped to the end of the table where her greedy sex beckoned. He dropped to his knees. The table height put her right at the level of his face. He inhaled deeply and smiled at the mingled scent of her and his clanmates.

  Flencik cupped her buttocks in both hands, his thumbs spreading the mounds apart. He ran his tongue up the cleft, ending at her engorged clitoris. Amelia writhed.

  He lapped her juices with his rough, wet tongue, and her eager sex kept him well supplied. She squirmed as stomach-twisting sensation transmitted from his fervent mouth to her belly, making her perspire and shiver with mingled heat and chills.

  Flencik gorged on Amelia’s flesh until he brought her over the edge. He sucked hard on her quivering sex as if he’d turn her inside out by the force of his mouth alone. Amelia’s voice turned hoarse from the strength of her cries. Her head whipped from side to side.

  Before she’d quite recovered, Flencik got to his feet and touched her between the legs with his organs. He rubbed the tips against her trembling body, letting her feel him at her threshold. He ran the dual penises up and down her crevice, making her sigh with pleasure.

  How she loved the sensation of Flencik hard and ready for her! Right or wrong, knowing he desired her body was the greatest aphrodisiac of all. No matter how many times he and the others made her climax, seeing them burning for her yet again always renewed her senses.

  While Flencik rubbed himself lightly against Amelia, he caressed her body with reverence. It was as if he worshipped her with his hands. First he stroked her long hair from her face, lifting tresses to his nose to inhale the fragrance. He traced the arches of her eyebrows with his thumbs. A forefinger ran the length of her slender nose. He leaned closed to trace her lips with the tip of his tongue. He cupped her head and tilted it back to expose the long line of her throat so he could kiss the delicate line of her jaw. His mouth tasted the column of her throat, ending in the hollow of her collarbone.

  He ran his fingertips down her arms, tickling the crease of her elbows. Then his fingers traveled back up to curve around her breasts. He traced the areolas with a delicate touch. Amelia’s erect nipples throbbed. Every little touch sent waves of gooseflesh over her skin. She felt her pulse in every cell of her body, quickening in the ticklish, heating rush of anticipation.

  Flencik ran his palms down her ribcage, curving in at her waist and flaring back out over her hips. He wet one fingertip in his mouth to swirl it around her navel.

  The entire time he spent stroking the upper regions of Amelia’s body, he continued to caress her sex with his own. The heat of his need radiated, increasing her own craving, making juices pump out in a siren song of welcome.

  Flencik’s hands tightened on her hips, warning Amelia of the impending penetration. He pierced her with a smooth motion, moving gently to fuse them together. He’d been very careful with her since the day he’d taken her so hard she’d required first aid. In her weaker moments, Amelia had been tempted more than once to insist he be stronger, more demanding.

  She looked down the length of her body and her breath caught at the sight of his cock disappearing into her. She watched the huge Kalquorian emerge again, slick and shining.

  Their gasps melded with the soft, wet sounds of their coupling. Flencik slid in and out of her easily. Amelia continued to watch him take her, mesmerized by the motion, the musky cinnamon aroma, the sounds, and the sensations. She felt hypnotized.

  Then Flencik shifted, making him rub hard against the bundle of nerves at the front of her sheath. Amelia cried out at the flare of ecstasy that heated her entire body. She arched against the table at the stab of profound pleasure.

  Flencik grunted and drove himself against the spot again. Amelia clutched her sex around him in spontaneous reaction. He groaned as his pleasure mounted. He held her tight, his fingertips digging into her hips as he concentrated his attack on her sweet spot. She screamed as her vagina clutched him, milking him even as he thrust harder.

  He bellowed when he exploded within her. Their sexes throbbed in tandem, synced with each other. So perfect. So perfect, Amelia thought, her wordless moans urging on the straining man between her thighs. Even as his own pleasure descended from its glorious peak, Flencik labored over her until she shuddered anew.

  His head hung down as he panted, his long jet-black curls spiraling to her belly. For her part, Amelia’s eyes closed in satisfied fatigue, her body finally relaxing as Flencik gradually softened inside her.

  Soft chuckles brought her eyes open. Flencik lifted his head. They both looked toward the lounger where Rajhir and Breft kneeled, leaning over the back cushions to watch.

  “My dear little Amelia,” Breft grinned. “You enjoyed the table, yes?”

  Rajhir’s grin was even bigger. “She enjoyed being tied to the table. She takes pleasure in many things her people claim are taboo.”

  “Including us. It is right that we take her from Earth. She does not belong there.”

  Flencik slipped from inside Amelia but remained standing between her legs. Despite having just climaxed, he stared at her tied, helpless body with such heat she turned her face away. She couldn’t look at him, at any of them.

  She’d lost control again, damn it! It was hard to know what burned brightest within her: the anger or the humiliation. Had she no pride? No conscience? No shame? She was nothing but a debauched animal, less than human!

  When the dreaded question passed Rajhir’s lips, Amelia’s furious resolve was once again firmly in place.

  “Will you eat now, little one?”

  “No.”

  “Then Flencik will let you enjoy his device while we sleep.”

  Amelia’s anger dissolved into miserable dismay. They’d made perfect love to her, had confessed the depth of their emotions, and now the sweet glow of it was to be ruined by the uncaring stimulation of the vibrator.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the Imdiko strapped the profane object to her. Her sex was still damp from lovemaking, and when he switched the probe on, it plunged in and out effortlessly. Then the vibrations started, and she bit down on her lips to keep from begging them to let her eat, to let her be their Matara, to anything they demanded just so she wouldn’t have to endure being pleasured by a machine.

  The three men watched Amelia in silence for awhile; watched as she writhed and moaned. She knew they hoped she would succumb to the embarrassment of perverted sexual ecstasy.

  She wanted to. She wanted to be released from the delicious torture of being bound while an untiring device gave her orgasm after orgasm. She wanted her empty, groaning belly to be filled with nellus from Flencik’s fingers. She wanted to acquiesce to their demands in everything, to obey any and all commands they put to her.

  Most of all, she wanted to again hear them say they loved her.

  They finally left the room to rest, leaving Amelia to strain against her bonds in vain w
hile the terrible, wonderful toy between her legs plunged and throbbed.

  Chapter 11

  Amelia’s heart fluttered as the clan gathered around where she crouched naked against the wall. Despite the tickle of fear and desire, she maintained her sulky expression. She must make them believe she despised them, though doing so hurt her heart. Calling them names, screaming terrible things … it all pained her as if she’d been on the receiving end of her abuse.

  She’d lost track of time since the abduction. The windows of the clan’s apartment remained tinted dark. Only the burning scentwood and glowing globes lent the room its dim light. It seemed she slept bare minutes at a time before the Kalquorians woke her. Then it was time to endure another round of them entreating her to eat and accept her role as their Matara. They continued to torment her with lovemaking. Sometimes their attention was tender, sometimes rough. She secretly welcomed it all, basking in the love behind their demands. They always bound her and they often punished her, but they always finished with her pleasure reaching climax. No matter how she treated them, she was never denied the shattering orgasms that made her cry out with unrestrained delight.

  Fatigue and hunger wore Amelia down. Worst of all, her resolve crumbled minute by minute. The longer Rajhir’s clan held her prisoner, the more she questioned why she fought them. She had to admit, privately at least, that all she wanted was to surrender to them. To utterly abandon what the Church, Earth, her mother, and she expected of herself.

  She searched for anger on their faces and found none. They looked at her with expressions knotted in worried adoration. Their concern, so naked for her to see, made her want to capitulate more than ever. Amelia entertained no doubt they cared for her, that they loved her as no one ever had. It was in every touch, every word, every glance they gifted her with.

  Flencik’s voice wavered in torment. “She fights eating. She fights everything. This has to stop, my Dramok.”

  Rajhir’s fists clenched, but his expression was one of hurt. He asked Amelia, “Why do you not accept our love?”

  Even as tears threatened, Amelia glared at him. “It’s not love when you force me to stay here against my will.”

  “We give you everything. As Matara, you are the center of the clan. Let us take care of you as we are meant to.”

  His refusal to understand sparked her anger, giving her strength to dispute him. “I’m not your Matara!”

  Flencik crouched down to plead with her. “You must eat. You grow weak.”

  Amelia looked down, unable to withstand the emotion in his features. “I want nothing from you except to be let go.” She felt the lie stain her very soul.

  The desperation in Breft’s voice made her look up again. “If she will not eat voluntarily, then we must force her. Enough of playing her games already!”

  Rajhir’s voice betrayed nothing. “We will not bite her. We will give her no excuses to hide behind. She will accept her place with us in such a way that it cannot be questioned, especially in her own mind.”

  “The pleasure we give her, as distasteful as she finds it, is not changing her mind. Her behavior warrants real penalty. She must be truly punished.”

  Flencik straightened, his attitude towards Breft turning threatening. “What do you suggest? Would you beat her like a child to behave as we wish? That’s worse than coercing her with intoxication.”

  The Nobek’s jaw unclenched. A smile teased the corners of his mouth despite Flencik towering over him. “Not beat, but a little discipline may teach her. Real discipline.” He looked down at Amelia, and his smile grew. A chill wormed its way into her belly at his calculating expression.

  Rajhir asked in a hopeful voice, “What do you mean, my Nobek?”

  Breft’s stare pinned Amelia motionless to the floor. “A moderate amount of pain will not scar her.”

  “We already administer pain with the sex. She loves it.”

  Breft laughed as Amelia’s face grew hot. “Indeed she does. The difference is that we will not be pleasuring her this time. She may respond to such a lesson.” He turned his gaze to Flencik. “You say she is like a naughty child. We must punish her as such. Pain and humiliation, the kind that corrects instead of rewards her.”

  Rajhir nodded. “The Earthers call it … dulma?”

  “Spanking.” Breft spoke the word with the air of a man relishing a particularly fine wine.

  Amelia breath froze in her lungs. Breft was an animal, she thought. Surely the others saw the savagery of his suggestion!

  Instead of rejecting the proposal as her heart insisted he must, Rajhir asked Flencik, “What do you think?”

  The Imdiko considered for a moment before speaking. “The discomfort of dulma is temporary. Even if real damage is accidentally inflicted, I can treat it. If a spanking will make Amelia eat, I agree to it.”

  Amelia’s heart seemed to stutter to a halt in her chest. She emitted a strangled gurgle. If the clan heard her distress, they ignored it.

  “I will administer the punishment,” Rajhir said. He looked from Breft to Flencik. “As the protector and the nurturer of this clan, you will oversee to avoid injury to your Matara.” At their nods he held a hand out to Amelia. “Come to me, little one.”

  Something besides terror filled her. Amelia’s sex tickled a warning, and her horror grew. Being roughly dominated by the clan always excited her, but the threat of real physical punishment without sex should not! Yet desire spiked through her, leaving her trembling. How could she want this? What was wrong with her?

  She shrank away, pressing her back against the wall. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

  Rajhir moved in a blur. Before she knew it, he grabbed her and slung her over his shoulder. Her fists battered his back to no avail as he carried her to the lounger. In one motion he sat down and draped her struggling body over his thighs.

  Her hair swept the floor by his foot. His hand pressed against the middle of her back, holding her torso still despite her flailing arms and legs.

  “Let me go, damn you!” Amelia shrieked. She tried to ignore the ache of arousal.

  Rajhir’s voice, drifting from overhead, sounded kind. “The pain is only for a little while. It ends when you agree to eat. When you tell me you comply, I will stop.”

  He won’t go through with it, Amelia thought frantically. He wouldn’t dare.

  She was wrong. The first crack of his palm descending on her buttocks exploded in the air like a gunshot. The stinging strike surprised Amelia from her struggles. Heat replaced the pain, radiating from her hindquarters.

  He hit me. She lay frozen on his thighs, feeling tingling fire spread over her flesh.

  The hand descended on her rear again. Rajhir really meant to spank Amelia like an unruly child. Humiliation warmed her face even as his heavy palm warmed her buttocks.

  “Stop!” she cried, but again the report of flesh striking flesh echoed through the room. She doubled her struggles to escape his discipline.

  Rajhir held her like a vise. He rained slaps on her stinging rear over and over as she lay defenseless on his lap. She felt the eyes of Flencik and Breft watching the punishment. Her embarrassment grew, and she sobbed. How could her situation get worse?

  To Amelia’s horror, it did. The heat of her spanked flesh spread to her sex. As always, her helplessness against her tormentors heightened her sexual hunger. Wetness trickled from her core even as Rajhir continued to administer the punishment.

  She cried in harsh sobs, shamed by her body’s response. Rajhir ceased spanking her.

  “She cries so,” he said. “Her skin reddens. Is she damaged, Flencik?”

  Amelia’s wails lessened to whimpers. She willed her throbbing sex to quiet, to end its betrayal. She watched Flencik’s approach through the web of her hair. A shiver passed over her as she saw his and Breft’s aroused state. Only then did she feel Rajhir’s erection pressing against her ribs. If they discovered she was just as excited, what else might they do to her? A stab of pleasure greeted that tho
ught, and fresh tears slid down her cheeks. What a deviant she was to feel arousal at such thoughts!

  At least Rajhir had ended the spanking, and she could gain control over her traitorous body. She let herself lie limp across Rajhir’s thighs as Flencik swept cool hands over her buttocks. She felt his breath waft over her smarting skin.

  “No damage beyond a little bruising. It is nothing I cannot heal,” he said. He abruptly shoved his hand between her thighs and cupped her sex. Amelia cried out in mingled surprise and desire.

  “Wet,” Flencik grunted, withdrawing. Amelia sobbed at both the discovery of her debasement and being deprived of his touch.

  “Then we reward rather than punish her,” Rajhir said. “It is no different from the usual discipline.”

  “I think this is different. There is no sexual play, yet she responds anyway. Such humiliation punishes her well. If pain does not convince her, perhaps shame will.” Flencik stepped back.

  “You support continuing this?”

  The Imdiko’s tone hardened. “I do. In fact, we will spank her until she obeys us. If you tire, I will take over. We will all take turns. If she is injured, I will heal her, and we will begin again.”

  Breft’s voice sounded surprised. “I did not think you would approve of such extremes.”

  “Her hunger strike has gone on too long. I cannot allow her to continue endangering her health.”

  Rajhir delivered a stinging slap to Amelia’s burning rear. “You have heard the words of your Imdiko, little one. The punishment continues until you agree to eat, no matter how long it takes.”

  Amelia felt faint at his words. She couldn’t face anymore of this! “Please stop,” she wailed.

  “That is up to you.”

  Again Rajhir’s hand peppered her backside, sending fresh waves of heat pulsing from her smarting flesh. The Dramok’s thigh supporting Amelia’s lower torso turned slick as her demanding sex betrayed her. Her sobs mingled with moans. Her buttocks felt raw from the blows. Rajhir showed no sign of tiring; instead his frustration seemed to feed his strength as his hand descended harder than ever.