Alien Embrace

by Tracy St. John

  This wasn’t going to end. Amelia sensed the clan’s determination. She was left with no choice.

  Defeated, she cried, “Stop! I’ll eat! Please Rajhir! Please, no more.”

  Rajhir gave her bottom one last reproving slap before turning her over and cuddling her in his arms. Flencik hurried to the kitchen area, almost running in his haste to bring her food. Meanwhile, Breft sat next to Rajhir and smoothed Amelia’s hair from her streaming eyes. Wanting to hide from them, she burrowed her face against Rajhir’s chest.

  “Why are you embarrassed?” Breft asked. “Such sexual responsiveness is a gift, sweet Amelia. It should be a source of pride. You are fortunate.” He tilted her chin to expose her tearstained face. “Flencik has brought you food. You will eat now.”

  The three men fed her nellus and desrel with their fingers. She accepted the nourishment, keeping her eyes downcast to avoid seeing the Kalquorians’ faces.

  “Good Matara,” Rajhir said. “Eat well and I will not have to spank you again.”

  “Until you wish it,” Breft added with a chuckle in his voice.

  They all seemed in good spirits now that she had given up. Flencik in particular looked relieved. The lines that had appeared in his face since Amelia began her hunger strike had smoothed away. They fed and petted her, praising every mouthful she swallowed as if it was a great accomplishment.

  All through the meal, Amelia’s buttocks stung. Worse, her sex pulsed with longing, hungry for attention. Like it or not, the spanking had awakened her desire for her captors once again. Amelia hated herself for the weakness.

  After she’d eaten enough to satisfy Flencik, Rajhir flipped her on her belly again without warning. His hard thighs felt like tree trunks beneath her. Amelia cried out, anticipating the sting of his hand.

  “Hush, little one,” Rajhir said, trailing his fingers through her hair. “Flencik will put salve on. Now that you have done as we wish, you will suffer no more discomfort.”

  Flencik’s touch lulled Amelia as he smoothed a cool cream over her buttocks. It soothed the sting instantly, and her flesh stopped feeling as though it glowed red hot.

  If only her desire could be cooled! Her clitoris still throbbed, aching for Flencik’s expert fingers to brush against it.

  Be strong, her inner voice advised. You’ve only lost the battle, not the war. Give them nothing voluntarily.

  When Flencik’s fingers closed on her sensitive nub of flesh, she jerked away. Rajhir growled, “Amelia,” and gave her buttocks a light slap. She wept but submitted to their fondling. Guilt crowded in, but she found it impossible to endure another spanking.

  They had her in turn, two watching as each clanmate took his pleasure with her. They whispered love words as they enjoyed her always fervent body. She fought none of them, allowing each man to do as he pleased. Amelia submitted every command put to her, and they possessed her in all possible ways. She obeyed so they wouldn’t spank her again; not for fear of the discipline itself but because she feared how much she wanted it. Over and over, she cried out her pleasure as they took her and she relived the spanking in her mind.

  The punishment should have solidified Amelia’s resolve to not give in to their demands. On the contrary, she wanted to be their Matara more than ever. They’d tricked her, kidnapped her, bound her, and spanked her. Any sane being would hate the Kalquorians for their despicable actions.

  How was it possible Amelia had fallen so desperately in love with them?

  * * * *

  Amelia woke, sunken deep into the lounger’s softness and surrounded by the permanent twilight of the clan’s quarters.

  Rajhir was immediately at her side. He was nude and appeared godlike with his sculpted body as he knelt beside the lounger. His hands brushed her cheeks. “You are awake?”

  Amelia strained to see through the gloom. “Where are the others?”

  “I made them go. Flencik forgets his own needs in his devotion to you. He is at a meditation retreat. As for Breft, a Nobek cannot be closed up for long. He hunts in the northern forest to satisfy his need for action. They will both return at sundown.”

  So it’s day, Amelia mused. But what day? How long have I been here? Has anyone noticed I’m missing yet?

  Rajhir continued to stroke her face. “I promised Flencik I would bathe you. Would you like that?”

  She pushed at his hands. “Does it matter? You don’t give me any choices.”

  The Dramok’s lips tightened. However, he said nothing as he gathered Amelia in his arms and carried her to the basin. She lay wooden against his chest, knowing she’d soften beneath his touch and despising herself for the weakness.

  Rajhir lowered Amelia into the warm water and began to wash her. He massaged her muscles as he bathed her. She stared down at the water lapping against her belly, wishing she had the freedom to enjoy his attentions. She loved the feeling of his hands on her body, stroking her in all the ways he’d learned she enjoyed. The Kalquorians had paid close attention to what relaxed Amelia as well as the activities that heightened desire and knocked down her defenses.

  After a long silence broken only by the trickle of the waterfall, Rajhir spoke. “I know this is difficult for you, to accept our taking you as our Matara. If I had the choice, I would – romantic? I would romantic you. I would take all the time to win your heart as well as your body.”

  Tears stung Amelia’s eyes and sprinkled into the basin. “You’re in command of this clan. How could you not have a choice?”

  His voice grated with emotion. “There is no time. Our people are becoming few. We must reproduce quickly to continue our culture. Because Earth will not hear our pleas, we have to do the unthinkable. We must force what we need.”

  The grief in his voice squelched Amelia’s anger. She looked up to see his eyes shining. Tears? From this hard Kalquorian?

  In a wondering tone she asked, “Why can’t you save yourselves? What’s wrong with the women of your planet?”

  Rajhir looked deep into her eyes as if seeking understanding. “The first difficulty is Kalquorian females ovulate only once your Earth year. Still, we had increased our population steadily through the generations. Then a few centuries ago, a virus spread among our people that damaged the — I don’t have the word for it — the part that makes a fetus female?”

  “The X chromosome?” At the look of confusion on Rajhir’s face, Amelia attempted to explain. “In Earthers, two X chromosomes make a female, and one X and a Y make a male.”

  “Chromosome,” Rajhir repeated slowly. “Perhaps that is it. Flencik would know. The problem is most female fetuses do not survive to birth because of defects. Ninety percent of the children born alive are male.”

  Amelia frowned. “That is a huge obstacle.”

  “It is worse still. The majority of our few females are infertile. With time, Kalquor has fewer females, fewer births. We have not been able to manipulate the embryos through medical means because Kalquorian physiology is too strong. It refuses to adapt.” Rajhir drew a shuddering breath. “Our people are dying. We have searched many years for females of other species to mate with, to continue our culture. You are our final chance. If our mating with Earthers does not produce living children free of the defects, in 300 years Kalquorians will be gone.”

  Amelia’s heart thudded painfully. “Wait. Let me make sure I understand. Your people will be totally extinct in 300 years?”

  Rajhir nodded. He pulled her close so that her wet breasts pressed against his chest. “We are a desperate people, but we know love. I swear to you, Amelia, I would not hurt you by forcing you to be our Matara if I could help it. If I knew another way so you do not suffer, so you feel we do not force you, I would use that way. You are precious to me, Amelia. I love you.”

  She cried at the despair and longing on Rajhir’s face. His obvious pain softened her. She kissed the tears wetting his cheeks. Her arms wrapped around his neck. His lips sank down to cover hers, and she opened to his kiss. He lifted her from the basin
and laid her down on the deep pile of the floor.

  Despite the strong body settling over hers, Amelia felt Rajhir’s vulnerability. She wanted to see more of that side of him. She pushed against his chest. “Let me.”

  His dark cat eyes searched her face, but when she shoved again he rolled over onto his back without hesitation. Now he lay beneath her, hers to explore. Hers to enjoy.

  This had never happened before. Never had Amelia been the one in control. Her heart thudding, she bent over Rajhir and explored the length of his body. She traced the fine line running from his hairline to the bridge of his nose with her fingertips. From there, she continued down to the curve of his lips. He laid still, his eyes drinking in her face.

  Amelia lowered her mouth to his, flicking her tongue over his teeth. She tasted the rough silk of his tongue and his mouth’s soft inner flesh. She laid full length against him, letting him feel her breasts pressing against his chest and the wetness trickling from between her thighs to moisten his belly. He moaned but remained motionless.

  She moved down, her palms flattened against the broad chest. She lowered her cheek to his breast and listened to his heart’s bass drumbeat. She wandered further down to his tapered waist knotted with muscle. What did bodybuilders call the double line of bumps on their abs? A six pack. Kalquorian physiology allowed Rajhir to sport a supersized eight pack.

  Amelia paused over his upright penises and inhaled his cinnamon scent. Then she moved on to his thighs, letting her hair’s gossamer strands trail his sex, the only touch she gave him there. She heard his breath catch, and she smiled, delighted with her own teasing.

  Rajhir’s legs corded with tension. Amelia ran her hands over the marble flesh, appreciating the lines with an artist’s eye. Not even a Michelangelo sculpture compared to the perfection of the Dramok’s body. She stroked a living, breathing work of art.

  “Amelia.” His strained voice broke into her reverie. She looked up to meet his eyes. The desire, the wanting in them shook her. Rajhir looked like a desperately thirsty man eyeing a pitcher of water. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know soon he’d turn that frantic need against her.

  “Lie still,” Amelia said, drawing her body over his, her wet sex hovering over his swollen members. “Let me take care of everything. I’ll give you what you need.”

  “Need you,” he gasped, his struggle apparent. “I need you right now.”

  “I know. Lie still for me, Rajhir. Don’t move.” Their sexes touched, drawn together. Tendons stood out in his neck as he fought against invading her warmth.

  Amelia lowered herself onto her captor, moaning as his turgid penises parted the lips of her sex and nether orifice. Down she went, filling herself with him, sucking him deep into her warmth.

  She took Rajhir slowly at first, savoring his gasped pleas for release. She reveled in the illusion he was hers to command, to torture, to reward as her whims dictated.

  “You want to throw me down and take your pleasure now, don’t you?” Amelia said, grinning at his working face. She raised her hips until only his penis tips remained inside her.

  “Amelia…”

  “I’m the one in control here.” She impaled herself on him again, taking her time. Rajhir’s chest heaved with the effort of his restraint. His torment delighted her.

  “…please…”

  “The tables are turned. You have to do as I wish.” She lifted, almost releasing him once more.

  “…Matara…”

  “Submit to my will.” Her own need became excruciating. She wanted to ride him, to fill herself with him until she burst.

  “…mercy…”

  Amelia’s body begged for release in tandem with Rajhir. She pistoned herself on the iron of his sexes, demanding he soothe her need; taking him, forcing him for her own pleasure.

  Rajhir’s hips bucked, all conscious control ripped from him. His iron hands locked onto her waist, driving her down as his loins slammed upward, shoving himself deep inside her womb and anus. The snarling Dramok thrust beneath her, all savagery now. A swirl of gut-tightening carnal fire swept through her core at the power of him. At his dominance over her. His primal need overwhelmed her, making it her own. Amelia sobbed laughter as orgasm crested in a tidal wave. She loosed a scream of triumph as her guts shuddered. Rajhir’s howl answered her.

  When the last tremor passed, she wilted on top of her Kalquorian lover like a flower battered by the wind. His arms wrapped around her, and she felt his strength. Had she really had the nerve to pretend to control this man?

  Rajhir rolled over so that they lay on their sides facing each other. The intensity in his voice when he spoke stunned her. “I will always love you. Choose the clan, Amelia. Be our Matara.”

  His heartfelt plea tore her heart in two. Her soul battled with her loyalty to her own race. “I want to,” she said, agony bringing tears to her eyes. “I don’t know that I can. It’s so hard to decide, Rajhir. Either way I go, it hurts me somehow.” She buried her face against his neck, burrowing into his warmth. “Hold me. Make me feel safe for a little while.”

  “I will keep you safe forever,” he murmured in her ear. For a few moments in his arms Amelia allowed herself to contemplate her heart’s desire.

  Chapter 12

  The next day dawned with the insistent beeping of the vid rousing the group. Breft extricated himself from the knot of limbs on the lounger to answer its summons.

  “Recorded message,” he informed them as he sat at the desk and switched on the monitor. Flencik stroked Amelia’s hair and Rajhir stretched the drowsiness from his muscles as the Nobek scanned the monitor.

  Breft barked something in Kalquorian. His clanmates rose from Amelia’s side. They yanked on their clothes.

  Amelia propped herself up on her elbows. “Where are you going? What’s happening?”

  Rajhir sat down to pull on his boots. “We slept late. Flencik and I are due at meetings for enhanced medical support negotiations.”

  Flencik got his tunic arranged and sat beside Amelia to put on his own boots as Rajhir stood and paced by the door. “I forgot complete of meetings.”

  Breft absently corrected him. “You meant to say, ‘I completely forgot about the meetings.”

  Flencik ignored the lesson. “Stop glaring at me, Rajhir. I hurry.”

  Amelia flicked her gaze towards Breft who remained engrossed by the message on vid. “You’re leaving me alone with him?” she whispered to Flencik.

  He finished strapping on his boots. He favored her with a smile. “Breft will not harm you. Breft is fierce and demands obedience, but he protects his Matara.” He patted her shoulder. “We will not be gone long.”

  The Imdiko rose, and Rajhir opened the door to the outside. Daylight splashed into the twilight gloom of the clan’s quarters. Rajhir walked out. Before following him, Flencik nodded goodbye to Amelia. “I will bring back nellus.”

  The door slammed shut behind him, leaving her imprisoned with Breft.

  The Nobek turned from the computer and regarded her with curiosity. He got up and stepped around the desk so nothing stood between them. He sat on its edge and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I heard what you said to Flencik. Do I frighten you so much, little Amelia?”

  She swallowed. Her heart thumped hard. Would he punish her for speaking against him? “I think you’re dangerous to anyone who crosses you,” she said, her voice a strengthless whisper.

  Breft nodded. “I am. Not just on my own behalf but also for my clan.” He smiled a little, and she felt relief that no fury appeared on his face. He said, “You have no more to fear from me than you do from Flencik.”

  The softness of his voice permitted Amelia’s anger to burst forth. “The spanking was your idea, Breft. It hurt me.”

  He actually chuckled as if indulging a cranky child. The expression eased some of the natural ferocity he wore like a second skin. “You were hurting yourself even more by not eating. Not only that, but you enjoy being punished.
If you were truthful, you’d admit you suffer more from humiliation than pain.”

  Amelia jumped to her feet, her fists knotted at her sides. “You’re heartless! You know nothing of kindness.”

  Sadness touched Breft’s smile. “To coddle and pet is the Imdiko’s way. A Nobek must be ever alert and ready to protect his clan at all times. Still, I do know compassion.”

  “You don’t show it.”

  “Maybe not the way you expect. I am a long way from what an Earther would think of as caring. I admit, it is not easy for me.” He looked down at his hands as if they possessed the answers to diffuse Amelia’s anger. “To fight, to kill, and to die for Rajhir, Flencik, and you are simple things. I can do them without conscience or thought.”

  “How can you be like that?”

  He laughed again. “I am a Nobek, Amelia. That means I was taken from my mother and trained for battle at a very young age with other Nobek boys. There were no lullabies, no hugs, no soft bosom to hide away in. There were only lessons in fighting and subterfuge. We hunted dangerous animals with no weapons. We fought each other in bloody tournaments until only one was left standing. Before we reached puberty we were cunning warriors.”

  Amelia shuddered. “That’s terrible.”

  “No, it was necessary. The Nobek breed is a violent one. We thrive on brutality and pain. We were born to fight.”

  She shook her head, not believing that mere children could be so feral as what he claimed. “You really think you were born that way?”

  Breft nodded. “We are so dangerous that even as small children we can be a threat to our families. If we are not sent to training camps to learn to direct our energies to good, we are a terrible hazard to society. A Nobek with no purpose is destruction waiting to happen.”

  Amelia stared at him, fascinated despite herself. “So you are trained to still be ferocious, but to do it in a manner that helps your people?”

  He nodded. “The universe is full of danger, and the Nobeks are Kalquor’s defense. Most of all, we are charged with keeping our clans safe. I was taught to be loyal to my clan before I even became a part of one.” His smile turned bitter, and Amelia again saw the predator in him. “My heart beat with rage at the thought of anyone threatening the members of my clan, whoever they might turn out to be. I eagerly learned hand-to-hand combat, of weapons, of ambushing my enemies.”