His to Claim

by Taylor Vaughn

  No, I admit to myself, this new fantasy will not play out the same if she does not breed with me willingly. I want to hear her moans, and also feel her move underneath me as she did in the New Terrhan forest.

  I draw a deep breath into my four lungs, then I say, “You will tell me what it will take for you to be willing to mate with me as you would a hu’man male.”

  10

  Kira

  What would it take?

  I freeze, my body weak for reasons that no longer have anything to do with my recent immobilization. I can feel how hard he is against the top of my stomach, and I inwardly gulp, because his dick feels strange. Not just thicker and longer than I was expecting, but also…ridged? I’ve seen enough Mature Audience only arthouse entertainments to know that’s definitely not a thing on human males.

  I step back to glare up at him suspiciously. “You’re not seriously asking. This is just a trick.”

  “I am serious,” he answers, his body stiffening. “It is not a trick. You will give me this information now.”

  “That’s not how the New Terrhan accord works.”

  His mouth quirks up, as if I’ve amused him. Slightly. “You forget I am your Kel. I can negotiate a new treaty at any time and with any person I wish. Anything you want, k’vani, I can provide. Name your price.”

  My price…do I even have one? I tilt my head at the huge, regal blue alien standing before me. “You’d really do that? You’d really give me anything I want just to open my legs?”

  “To willingly open your legs, k’vani. To not cry when I breed you. As I said before, I cannot abide your tears. Tell me what I must do or pay to make you want to be bred…to ensure that you move beneath me like you did in the red forest, as I fill your womb with my seed.”

  The memory of how I humped him in the red forest makes my face heat with embarrassment. And I have to look away from his intense, unblinking stare.

  I fold my arms over my naked breasts and say, “It’s not that I don’t want to be bred. I want to be a mother, but I don’t want to have my kid taken away from me and never see him again if it’s a boy. And if it’s a girl, I don’t want to bring her into a world where she must starve for half of the year, because we’ll only have access to rations after I’m done with womb service.”

  “Your people are given plenty of supplies,” he answers, running his black diamond eyes over my body. “And you do not appear to be starving.”

  Again, I’m hit with the wish to cover up my nakedness. But all the blankets are located on the sleeping mats directly behind the blue alien. And I get the feeling Kel D’Rek won’t let me pass if I make a move for the one thing that might help me conduct this conversation with a little bit of pride.

  Settling for recrossing my arms, I answer, “They have to fatten the twenty-one-year-olds up for the ceremony because your babies won’t take if they let us get too skinny. Trust me, I didn’t have this extra padding last year or any of the ones before that. And that’s because we’re most definitely not being given plenty of supplies. There’s at least one to two weeks of rationing added every year, even though that supply drop is supposed to be enough to get us through. Last year, everyone but the twenty-one-year olds who were either pregnant or about to get bred got put on meal-a-day rations for three entire months. And the quality of the seeds and livestock we’re given also seems to be going down. This year, we had to start hunting pigeons early because we couldn’t get even two of those Xalthurian chickens you guys gave us to breed.”

  His ridges vibrate. “We are sending the same amount and quality of goods. Perhaps your people lack the competence to make best use of the supplies you’ve been given.”

  “Lack the competence?” I repeat, my mouth dropping open with insult. “And how do you know what we’re being sent? Have you even been keeping track?”

  “My prime minister has assured me of this,” he answers.

  “Okay, has your prime minister talked with our leaders at all about the increased need for rationing? Or taken our population growth into account?”

  A pause. Then he answers, “I am not sure. Until recently we were embroiled in a war that required nearly all of his attention. In truth, I do not believe he has visited the planet since accompanying me there, two solars ago. But he has received reports about how you are faring, I am sure of it.”

  “You’re sure of it?” I repeat. “But you haven’t actually seen or looked over these reports yourself?”

  His ridges are really vibrating now. With anger or confusion? I can’t say for sure, but my curiosity is definitely piqued.

  “It would seem you are suggesting your Kel should do his prime minister’s job.”

  “Oh, for moon’s sake—” I start to tell him all about himself and his barely even stepped foot on our planet prime minister. But then I stop myself.

  Think, Kira. You’ve got to be smart. Cursing him out all the way to his three moons and back won’t feed your people…or save you from stepping off a cliff like Elle.

  Okay…okay, yes, technically I’m a virgin. Zinnia loved romantic entertainments, and maybe I had some notion that someday I’d look at a guy in my village and realize he was The One. But there’s no such thing as happily ever after. If the last two years after Elle’s death have taught me anything, it’s that. I’ve got to focus on the real, here.

  Stuff like my parents and Zinnia back home. Probably worried out of their minds about me and just a few bad crop months away from starving. Again.

  “Two shipments. I want us to have two shipments instead of one,” I tell him, unfolding my arms and standing up straight.

  “Two shipments…” With his ridges still furrowed, he calls up a floating screen with what looks like squiggles and dots, but that I assume must be the Xalthurians’ written language. After scrolling through several pages, he disappears the screen with a swipe of his taloned hand.

  “It looks as if your supply drop is but a miniscule percentage of our planetary budget. Yes, I will allow for your people to have two allocations a year. Hopefully, your race will not be able to squander a double portion of supplies.”

  His words hit me like a smack to the face. And is he seriously trying to say that giving us an extra shipment of supplies has been no big deal this entire time, when we’ve literally been starving? What the moons?

  I clench my teeth and ball my hands into fists at my sides.

  But then I warn myself. Punching him in the throat probably won’t get the rest of your demands met.

  Somehow, I manage to unclench my teeth to say in a business-like tone, “You can breed me and drop me back home on my planet after you’re done. But sex between us—it’s got to have some rules. If you want me to respond to you, you can’t just get on top of me whenever you want.”

  He shakes his head. “You do not wish for me to take you when my diijo swells with the need to spill my seed inside of you. You will tell me how I am supposed to make my claim of you, then.”

  “You should ask permission,” I answer with a shake of my own damn head before moving on to my next demand. “All of our medical machines are broken, but you probably have what was called a pregnancy test on the old planet, right? Something that will let us know sooner than later if it’s a girl or a boy?”

  “Yes, we have this technology. The toilet will inform you if you are pregnant or if you have any ailment that should be attended to by a doctor when you evacuate your bladder and bowels. We can also use the toilet to call for a medic, who will be able to ascertain with an examination, whether you will issue female or male offspring.”

  Wow…a couple of days ago, I didn’t even know what it felt like to use an inside toilet. Look at me now. What a difference a kidnapping by your alien overlord makes.

  “Okay, well, after the toilet tells me I’m pregnant, I want to go home. And if it’s a boy, you don’t just come to New Terrhan to take him when it’s time for the next Breeding Ceremony. You let me bring him back to Xalthuria. Give me at least a week to h
elp him settle in, and then after that, I want to come back with the supply ship to visit him for a week or two every year. And if it’s a girl, I want you to come visit her every year. If you promise me that, I’ll…I’ll stop fighting you and let you breed me.”

  My heart pounds as I wait for his answer. A few days ago, I never would have guessed that I’d be standing here, in our alien overlord’s palace, negotiating the terms of my own breeding. It feels like I’m handling the highly combustive mix of shit and finely ground red clay that our miners use to blast into the mountains, so that they can mine for iron. Yes, this entire conversation feels like Terrhan dynamite. Something that could easily blow up in my face.

  I wait for his answer, but he just stands there, frowning down at me with his ridges furrowed. “So, is that a no? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I am not unwilling to grant your requests,” he says slowly, like he’s carefully picking out each word. “However, I do not understand why you would wish for me to visit with a girl child.”

  “Because you would be her father,” I answer just as slowly.

  He stares at me blankly.

  Okay. “So you Xalthurians, just don’t value girls, like at all?” I ask, my chest tightening with irritation on behalf of women like N’Maryah.

  “Certainly females have value. They are a needed component for breeding and an important part of trade and alliance negotiations.”

  “Wow…with a romantic attitude like that, no wonder you guys are having a few fertility problems.”

  “Our fertility problems are due to a virus that ravaged our system and several others before your ship’s arrival,” he answers with a stern look. Then he frowns even deeper. “I do not know the meaning of this word…romantic. You will explain it to me.”

  I tip my head back with a heavy sigh. Of course, he doesn’t even have a clue what that word would mean. “It’s like the things you do to get someone to fall in love with you,” I explain.

  Another blank stare.

  “Oh, come on, you don’t have the concept of love either? You don’t love your mom and your dad?”

  “Both of my parents have passed on to the next realm, which is why I am now your Kel.”

  “Kel that’s like a king or an emperor or an overlord, right?”

  “Your Kel is not like anything. I am your king, your emperor, your overlord, and whatever else you call supreme rulers in your language.”

  Wow. Here comes that throat punchy feeling again.

  Fate of your people, I remind myself, before steering my tone back to sympathetic. “Well, I’m sorry your parents died. Losing a family member is hard.”

  “It is the natural way of things,” he answers. But his ridges ripple when he says it. Is that his way of displaying sadness? I’m once again struck with the feeling that though we’ve been dealing with the Xalthurians for two decades, we don’t really know each other well at all.

  “This love you speak of…it sounds similar to the fealty a male must pledge to his father and Kel. You will tell me if you require me to pledge such fealty to you.”

  I blink at him, a new warm feeling fizzing inside my chest. “You’d do that. You’d pledge your fealty to me?”

  “No,” he snaps with a sharp look. “A Kel only pledges fealty to the Kel before him. I am commanding you to tell me if this is what you expect of me.”

  Okay, well, fizzy feeling gone.

  “No…not exactly,” I respond wearily. “And you know, we don’t have to love each other to breed. But the feeling of falling in love makes it easier for humans to procreate, I guess. I don’t really know for sure. That’s just how it goes in most of the old planet entertainments.”

  “Entertainments…”

  Oh moons, before we can get embroiled in yet another definition conversation, I ask, “Do we have a one-on-one treaty or not?”

  His head tilts down, his ridges rippling as he gives my question some thought.

  “I will agree to your terms and will add one of my own. If our breeding produces a female, then I shall bring you back here in two solars to try again for a male.”

  My head jerks back, I’m so surprised by his counter. “And what if that breeding produces a girl, too? What do you want to do? Keep bringing me back until you get a boy?”

  His gaze catches mine, red and unsparing. “Yes.”

  I let out a shuddering breath as I do a little consideration math of my own. The odds are on my side, I remind myself. The chance of me having a boy is two in three. Then I’d be free to go on with my life, have more children with a human male. Someone who’d understand why parents should visit their children and can actually fathom the concept of love.

  Really, when I think about the situation I’m in, do I have any other choice? “Okay,” I agree quietly. “I guess we’ve got a Kira-Kel D’Rek treaty.”

  “What is a Ki’Ra?” he asks.

  Body burning with the realization of just how much we’ve done without him even knowing my name, I answer, “Kira is me. That’s my name…what I’m called.”

  “Ki’Ra, I am your Kel, and you have my word to honor this treaty. I will have contracts drawn up for us to eye scan in both of our languages on the morrow. However, this negotiation has excited me beyond the limits of my patience. So knowing that I will have this contract made ready for you, you must give me your permission.”

  I nearly laugh, because, “That’s not how you ask for permission, Kel.”

  “The proper address is my Kel.” But after that correction, his ridges furrow in a way that I’m coming to read as confusion. “Ask…” he repeats, in the same foreign word way he said “love” and “romantic.”

  “Do you need me to teach you that word, too?”

  I’m being bitchy, but he simply answers, “Yes.”

  Okay…wow…my alien overlord literally doesn’t know how to ask for something.

  “It’s simple,” I assure him. “All you have to do is use the word, may in front of your sentence. That makes it a request. Like, ‘Kira, may I negotiate a new deal with you? Kira, may I ask why you didn’t just lay there and let me stick my dick in you?’ See that’s the difference between a command and a request. You should also wait for my answer and realize I have the right to refuse any request I’m not comfortable with.”

  He lowers his head, once again seeming to consider my words. At least that’s what I think until he says, “Ki’Ra, your breeding slit is leaking again. May I consume your delicious juices?”

  I choke on my own spit, my sarcastic teacher face cracking, as my throat goes completely dry. “Y—yes,” I only barely manage to get out.

  He takes a step closer, then drops down to one knee. Even kneeling he’s huge. His head is eye-level with my breasts. My very, very naked breasts.

  I wordlessly watch him lower and bend forward, extending his tongue, which is as red as his eyes and oh moons…pointed. I remember how it felt to have him inside me, getting to places my fingers could never reach.

  And suddenly his tongue disappears back inside his mouth. “It is fascinating to watch you leak. You produced even more juices when I extended my tongue.”

  His mouth is so close to my pussy, I can feel his hot alien breath as he speaks. “It is as if your hu’man body is inviting me to partake of your breeding slit, extending an invitation to my tongue. You will tell me if this is true.”

  “Um…it’s not not true, I guess,” I answer, my body warring between desire and complete and utter embarrassment. “If you’re asking if I want you to do that again, to lick me. The answer is probably yes.”

  “Probably yes. I do not approve of this partial and vague answer you have given your Kel. But I do like that your body tells me things your mouth will not.”

  “Okay, first of all, here’s something about human females you probably don’t know—” His tongue darts out before I can point out that human females leak this kind of fluid whether they’re aroused or not. And I suck in a gasp when it presses flat again
st my pussy, licking from the bottom to the top of my slit, before plunging right on in.

  Oh moons, his tongue feels so good. Is it supposed to feel this good? I wonder about everything I thought I knew about these aliens, as I watch his blue head move in circles over my pussy as his pointed tongue swirls around inside of me.

  I whimper and moan, grabbing on to his pure white hair, getting lost in the sensation, until I feel close to coming again.

  But just as my pussy starts contracting around his tongue, he suddenly stops. “No, k’vani,” he says, standing up and swiping his long-pointed tongue over his now glistening mouth. “I would like to feel the sensation of your pleasure’s arrival upon my diijo. May I place you there and release my seed into your breeding tunnel?”

  “Okay…sure,” I answer, trying to keep the tremble inside my heart out of my voice.

  I must not do that great of a job, though. He crooks his head at me, his ridges vibrating once. “You seem displeased with the thought of my breeding you. You will tell me why.”

  I shake my head, not sure how to handle this. On one hand, we made an agreement. I have to stick to it, for the good of my people and to get home. But on the other… “I’m afraid.”

  His ridges go completely still. “My defiant little hu’man is afraid. You will tell me why you would feel this way after you so enjoyed the ministrations of my tongue.”

  “Your tongue down there felt good, but I know your dick won’t. My sister and pretty much every human female who’s ever gone through the Breeding Ceremony says, doing it with Xalthurians hurts.”

  He furrows his ridges, the confused expression that had appeared several times during the course of this embarrassing conversation returns. “Xalthurian females derive neither pleasure nor pain from the breeding act, but it sounds as if you are saying that hu’man females derive both.”

  “Not always,” I answer. “Sex isn’t supposed to hurt. It doesn’t hurt with human males. That’s why they encourage us to have sex before the Breeding Ceremony. So we know that it won’t always be like that.”