Kitty vs Alien (Feral Aliens)

by Loki Renard

  “I’m going to come inside you again,” he tells me. “You’re going to feel my seed filling you. It’s going to spark something inside you, a life which will grow inside your belly.”

  “I can get pregnant by you?” My squirming only serves to make his cock sink deeper inside me.

  “Absolutely you can. You’ll have my baby, Kitty. You’ll grow big with my cub, and you’ll suckle it at these breasts,” He paws them both and squeezes and makes my cunt squeeze him with even greater desire.

  What he’s saying is madness, but I want it. Every part of my body wants it. My mind is merely along for the ride, caught up in that mad reproductive frenzy which bypasses the places of my brain responsible for asking if this is a good idea. Am I really ready to be mother to a half-alien baby? I don’t care. I just want him. All of him. Deep inside me. Forever.

  My eager reaction triggers his climax, my squirming tight sex gripping him so tight he cannot hold it back anymore. He roars and arches and sinks himself so completely entirely inside me that I am filled all the way up to the very depths of my cervix as he unleashes his seed.

  I can feel his potent essence inside me, soaking deep into my sex, bathing my womb with his alien potential. My inner walls quiver and squeeze, drawing that come deeper inside me. My biology has been completely controlled by him, my entire body squirming and contorting as I feel his cock pressing the advantage, plugging my pussy.

  “Keep it inside, Kitty," he says. “Keep it deep inside where it can work. Can you feel my seed impregnating you? Can you feel my little beasts swimming all the way up inside the parts of you you’ve kept barren with your drugs and your condoms? There’s neither now, is there?”

  “No,” I moan, my own quivering climax drawing nearer with every moment I feel him throb and pulse and know that his potent juices are inside me doing their work, infiltrating the parts of me I have never allowed to be taken before.

  I start to come, grinding up against him, squeezing his still thick and hard cock, my pussy lips bumping against the base of his cock, the pelt of his fur and my own blonde curling hair meshing in copulation.

  “Good girl," he purrs, his tongue lapping against my ear, his hands on my ass, pulling me harder onto his dick. “Come for me, Kitty. Take all that seed inside you.”

  Moaning and squirming, I do as I am told, hot shivers of pure pleasure running the length of my body, making my toes curl and my legs shake. Orgasms with Skoll are intense, more so than any I have ever felt in my life before.

  When I finally stop shaking, he pulls out from me and leaves me dripping with his seed. It slides out of me having likely already done its work, leaving me tender and dazed in his arms.

  “I can't believe you did that,” I breathe, looking up into his face. “You really want a baby with me?”

  “I want to keep you,” he growls. “I like you, Kitty. I like your bravery, and I like your softness, and I want you to grow my offspring inside you. Your hot, fertile little holes are mine to use.”

  I feel my pussy clench again, his words making my inner walls reflexively draw what is left of his seed inside me deeper. My body is aiding and abetting him, doing everything it can to suck those little drops of life inside me.

  “What is it, human? You are quiet.”

  “I…er… never really planned on having kids.”

  “What’s the point of a plan,” he murmurs, tracing his fingers over my breasts in a slow caress. “Plans rarely work out, and often disappoint when they do.”

  “And you want to raise this baby on the side of a mountain?”

  “This is a temporary measure, until my fugitive is found.”

  “And then what? What if you never find him? You’ll have a baby here?”

  “We will move, Kitty. I will not let any harm come to you or my infant. And you will not have to worry. Once your belly swells and the baby arrives, you will be consumed with love for him or her. You will no longer care for the being you call Mr Tiddles…”

  “Wrong,” I tell him. “You could fill me with a litter and I would still help Mr Tiddles.”

  He seems confused by my statement. “But you have a greater loyalty to your future offspring, do you not? And to the father of them?”

  “So… you knocked me up just to make me cooperate with your investigation? What kind of asshole are you?”

  “One who wants you more than anything else.”

  Damn it, that was almost sweet. I do not understand Skoll. I don't know what he wants. I don’t know how, or if he is even capable of love. Certainly not the kind of love I want, the grand romance where a man brings me flowers and makes sweet love to me, and maybe asks me if I want to have a baby before flooding my sex with his seed. Little things like that.

  Not that I objected. Not that I asked him to stop. Not that I did anything other than spread my legs and come on his cock and even now I’m keeping my thighs together to try to trap those little flecks of life inside me. Maybe I do want a baby. I don’t know.

  I do what I always do when I am confused. I intellectualize.

  “So if we can reproduce, we must be very similar biologically. Species which do not share basic biology cannot reproduce.”

  “That is sort of true. A very limited human understanding of what is true.”

  “What are you saying? We’re not equal?”

  “Humans are a lesser species. Earth is a primitive planet, and you are primitive along with it.”

  “Ouch.”

  He’s the one who looks like a walking lion. He’s the one with the power of a beast and the temperament of a feral alley cat. He’s the primitive one, lashing out at me.

  I fall silent. He will see what this primitive human can do — once she works out how to operate the shimmering transportation wall. It can’t be that hard. If he can use it, I can use it. I am not nearly as primitive as he thinks I am. I am more than hormones and sexual desire. But I’m not going to let him know that. If he thinks of me as little more than a carnal beast, fine.

  “Soon your hormones will begin to rise, and you will make decisions for the survival of your little ones against all odds. The fugitive will be nothing to you.”

  He’s arrogant. And he’s wrong. If I am pregnant, and I very much doubt I am, it won’t distract me. I’m going to get my damn cat and I’m going to go home.

  Skoll

  I have made her mine in the most primal way possible. She may pout and growl at me. She may declare her loyalty to the small furry beast, but I do not care. The truth is, since I met her, the hunt for the fugitive has diminished greatly in importance. As long as I get to keep her, that is all that truly matters.

  She scowls at me and curls up in my arms, simultaneously cuddling and complaining about what a terrible beast I am and how she is going to escape and how I will be sorry and… she continues to make her small mouth noise sounds until she falls asleep, completely content and entirely safe in my embrace.

  7 The Hunt

  Kitty

  The next morning, Skoll resumes the hunt for Mr Tiddles. He leaves me with a small supply of dried meat to eat and a pitcher of water. It is little better than prison food, though I suppose it is paleo or keto, or some other trendy -o which will probably make me poop weird.

  I chew my meat and I watch him very carefully when he operates the shimmering wall. It seems to be a matter of putting in codes which correspond to locations. So therefore, all I need are the codes. Specifically, the codes to Scratch City. A city sounds like a good place to lose myself, and an even better place to find a ride home.

  “Okay, bye then,” I say.

  “Be good,” he orders before stepping through the shimmering wall.

  With Skoll gone, I begin my investigation. There’s not a lot to explore in this cave, but I explore it anyway. I have seen plenty of movies and such in my time, and I know that desperate circumstances with no way out are usually illusions. Life doesn’t like desperate circumstances with no way out. Nature abhors a vacuum only slightly
more than it mocks a prison.

  Running my hands over the wall, I feel the undulations in the rock, and not just a variance in size and shape, but in some places, texture. When I knock on the stone, it sounds hollow.

  “Hmmm. What have we here?” I ask myself the question because I’ve always wanted to say something smart and borderline analytical like that. It makes me feel like a woman in control, not a naked captive wearing a very heavy chain around her neck.

  I press a button and a piece of the wall slides open, revealing a not at all primitive office. There’s a desk with a pile of pieces of plastic on it. I pick one up and the face of it flashes brightly before resolving into words.

  PURRSONAL DIRECTORY

  All the codes you need for Planet Purr

  Oh, how fucking perfect. In my hand, I now hold the codes to every location on this planet. That was almost too easy. Maybe it’s a trap. Or maybe it’s not a trap. Would I think it was a trap if I found a phone book on Earth? No. I’d think it was 1999.

  “Checkmate, Skoll. I’m about to get all the way out of here,” I announce to nobody because I am alone.

  I start scrolling through the list. I don’t recognize any of the location names, but I only need to find one. Scratch City. Maybe there’s even a port in Scratch City. Maybe I can walk right through the shimmering wall and find my way onto a ship bound for Earth and be out of here before he even knows what’s happened. It will be as if I disappeared.

  “Ssss… Ss…” I say to myself. “Where are the S’s?”

  The problem is the directory isn’t alphabetical. It appears to be based on location. So I need a map, to work it out.

  “Map. Map. Map. I need a map.” I mumble.

  “Here you go.” A big hand slides a map in front of me.

  “Oh, thank you…” I frown at the map, trying to work out where we are. There’s a big picture in the middle of a city which is marked with three slashes, so I’m going to guess that is Scratch City. There’s a series of three two digit numbers next to it. So that’s good. I know where I’m going, but I still need to work out where I am, and then I need to work out what these words mean in terms of locations and…

  The hair on the back of my neck prickles with the breath of a powerful predator looming behind me. It’s distracting, not to mention concerning. Am I being watched? Wait… who gave me the map?

  I turn around. “Oh fuck.”

  A thick brow is raised at me, and blue eyes sear into me. Skoll is standing over me, of course. I have no idea how long he has been there, but I know what I am doing is very obvious.

  “Planning an escape, little human?”

  “Uhhh…”

  “I’ll take that.” He plucks the directory from me, leaving me with a number half-seen and half-remembered in my head. “Naughty Kitty,” he censures me. “You have to know it would not be that simple to get away from me, surely. I know when this travel gate is used. I know where the destination is too. If you use this gate, I’ll be able to track you easily. And when I find you, I will whip you until you cry, human. Purr is no place for people. The other grimalkin will not be so kind to you as I have been.”

  I am embarrassed at being caught, so I do the only thing I can do: I blame him for everything.

  “You don’t know what kindness is. And this is no place for a human to live. You left me here with literally nothing to do but try to escape. This is your fault!”

  He gives me a long intelligent look. The kind of look which spells serious trouble if I know anything about anything.

  “You’re right,” he says. “I should do something else with you, give you something to think about while I hunt my fugitive.”

  He bends down and pulls something out of a box. It is a fairly benign looking lump of material, gray in color, with dimples protruding it all over. It looks sort of like a big, reversed golf ball. I was expecting something much scarier and far more dangerous. He places it down in front of me and points to it with a clawed finger.

  “Kneel over it. Spread your thighs,” Skoll instructs in that tone which brooks no dissent. He will be obeyed, or else.

  I do as I am told somewhat skeptically. I don’t know where he’s going with this. Even when I settle into position, I can’t feel anything particularly punitive. It’s like a weird chair, a sort of cut down version of the sort of exercise ball chairs which became office furniture fads for a short time. How is this going to keep me here? I’m sure it will do something fucked up and weird and probably controlling, but I don’t know…

  “Whoooaa…”

  I make a discovery.

  It vibrates.

  My legs are spread akimbo, pressing the delicate parts of my sex just barely against the pulsing mound.

  “Oh my…”

  “This will pleasure you in my absence. Today you will be chained to it. Tomorrow, I do not think I will need a chain for you at all.”

  As he speaks, the machine changes tempo and speed. I feel it buzz and hum and then throb, sending vibrations right through to the core of me. I am going to soak myself, and probably break it.

  “You’ll stay here, won’t you," he murmurs, standing over me with his legs spread. “You’ll stay here and pleasure that sloppy little hole of yours.”

  He’s so crude. But he’s right. I am wet, and I am sloppy. I am needy and I am desperate for pleasure, because he is making me want this. He’s making me want every bit of his twisted, animal dominance.

  He watches me for a time, his expression leering and pleased, but he cannot take it any longer than I can. I have climaxed three or four times, my aching pussy starting to feel like it will always be contracting in climax when he grabs me by the hair and throws me down on the furs. Plunging after me with a throaty laugh, he spreads my thighs and sinks inside me in one all too easy thrust. I am wet for him. More than that. I am desperate for him. The longer and harder he fucks me, the more I writhe and wriggle.

  He was made for me. I don’t know how that’s possible, but it’s true. He stretches me just the way I need to be stretched. He claims me so completely that the thought of escape doesn’t even have a context. How can I possibly want to escape this much pleasure?

  Skoll's paws pin my hands to the furs, where my fingers helplessly curl and take hold of the pelt of a beast he brought down some years past. He is dominating me just as thoroughly as he dominated it, taking my sex, but not my life.

  I can feel him as a force above me, not just the physical reality of his muscular form, but something entirely more. Something like soul energy, something wild and focused entirely on possessing me.

  Again, he leaves me drenched in his seed, covered in his come, and absolutely exhausted.

  “You’re not going to escape me, Kitty,” he tells me, dragging his teeth lightly over the back of my neck while his hand runs over my hip and thigh. “Even if you tried, you would end up with me. We are bound together, don’t you see?”

  I don’t see.

  I am being kept prisoner. I am being bred by a feral alien. How can there be anything fated about that?

  “We were neighbors for three months,” I say. “You never looked at me twice.”

  “I was focused on locating my fugitive. When I am working, I do not allow myself to be distracted by the local flesh.”

  “Local flesh? That’s what I am to you?”

  “You are many things to me,” he says, stroking the hair out of my eyes. “You are my captive, my challenge, my bounty, my prize, and my love.”

  I keep wanting him to want me beyond the pleasure he gets from claiming me. But I don’t think he does. He looks at me with those enigmatic blue eyes and I feel the hollowness in my belly growing. He says the word love, but it is cheap and empty. It is the kind of love of genitals, not the grand romance I have always desired.

  It could be hunger, but I think it is more than that. It is a gap of understanding and yearning which is not filled no matter how many times we mate.

  The day wanes and the sun sets. Skol
l cooks for me over an open flame, meat. Very keto. Very fashionable. And actually very tasty, though I do not know what animal it came from. We do not speak much in the interval between sex and food. There is nothing to say. He is still hunting Mr Tiddles, and I am still planning to make my escape, once I have found my cat. We are completely at odds, and cannot trust one another at all.

  Occasionally, our eyes slide over to the other. Skoll smirks when this happens, while I tend to blush and look away. I am somewhat ashamed of how I respond to him, how much I want his feral ravaging, how much his animal nature calls to me.

  “I used to have work in the morning,” I say finally. “Now I never have work. Now I just sit and… vibrate.”

  “And try to escape. So you can return to your planet where you have to work.”

  “So I can go home.”

  “It is not your home; you pay by the month to be allowed to live there.”

  “So? It’s still home.”

  “Is it?”

  8 Good Vibrations

  Kitty

  Another morning. Another chance at escape.

  “Sit on your toy and stay,” Skoll says. “I will not be gone long, and when I return, I expect you to still be there, my disobedient little chain-kept. Remember, I can come back at any time. If I find you off that machine, you will be whipped until you cry.”

  His words are dominant yet affectionate, and I know better than to disobey him directly to his face.

  He leaves and I sit and vibrate obediently, just like the good little chain-kept pet I am.

  It feels good. Incredibly good. Skoll has come up with the most effective form of captivity — a kind I will seek out for myself. Pleasure is rare in my world. I have touched myself and given myself those rutting, grinding, desperate little orgasms that never seem to fully satisfy. This machine is different. It seems to respond to the movements of my hips and the lubrication of my sex. It makes me squirm and wriggle and experiment. I lean forward and plant my hands on the ground, letting my clit dance lightly over the shaking surface, which results in a powerful clitoral climax which makes my arms too weak to hold me up.