When he took another step, the vastness of his size imprinted itself upon me.
The orange and pepper scent flooded the space.
‘What are you?’ I whispered.
4
Indira
‘It does not speak.’
I heard an English reply. Accented and with an odd cadence. The words coming out of his mouth didn’t match the sounds hitting my ears. I remembered whirring clicks and trilling notes instead of vowels and constants.
Someone had fiddled with my brain. Cracked me open and implanted alien technology.
My insides quivered.
‘I can speak.’ I paused.
Nothing more from him was forthcoming. I felt the creep of impatience.
I need answers.
‘Why am I here?’ I asked. ‘Where am I?’
Emotionless eyes stared.
His loose limbs and relaxed stance had to be an affectation. He acted as if he had all the time in the world.
Maybe he does.
‘What’s your name?’ His silence strangled me. I swallowed. ‘My name is Indira. Friends call me Indie.’
‘I do not care.’
Offended, my head popped back on my neck.
During my training as a politician’s aide, they taught me when in a hostile environment to befriend as many people as possible. To talk about myself. Invest them in my wellbeing, which–in theory–would make them reluctant to hurt me.
So I shook off the knee-jerk reaction and extended a hand towards his ankle.
Well-defined legs with rough-skinned hocks led to peculiar feet. Elongated, their weight balanced on his toes, heels lifted. His stony gaze twitched to my appendage. An honest-to-God growl slid from his throat. Its clicks slid up and down an odd tonal scale.
Like he was a wild animal.
Arm frozen mid reach, my mind blanked. My fingers curled to further abort the unwise action. ‘Sorry.’ I wheezed a thin breath. ‘Won’t touch you. Should’ve asked. Sorry.’ My babble stopped when he didn’t attack. I shook my head to order my thoughts. ‘I won’t do that again, but you need to take me home. Please.’
‘It does not speak. Lower its gaze.’
My mouth opened to tell him I could speak, but then I closed it without comment.
It wasn’t about my ability to articulate.
He meant I shouldn’t speak.
How was I supposed to build a rapport when he wouldn’t let me touch, speak or even look at him?
‘Okay, listen. I’m a native-born citizen of England. Planet Earth.’ The whites of my eyes showed at the distinction. ‘You had no right to abduct me. You–’ I squeaked.
He crouched not an inch from me. His expression was harsh. He had little structure to his nose. A faint bridge sloping over twin slits that tightened and relaxed as he breathed. ‘All these words are meaningless, breeder.’ Three long fingers with a forth joint gripped my chin. ‘Body. Mind. Spirit. All are mine, conquered. All belong to this warrior.’ He thumped the side of a fist to his scarred pectoral. ‘It breathes because I allow it. It exists because I allow it.’ Faceted eyes bored into mine. ‘Speak when spoken to.’ The hand on me applied pressure until my chin lowered. He squeezed. My eyes scrunched as pain stabbed my jaw. ‘Speak when spoken to and keep its eyes far from mine.’
‘I’m not an “it”.’
‘It is not my equal.’
My body started to shake. He was insane if he thought I’d agree. ‘I am very much your equal. I’m not an “it”.’
‘This will be its most difficult lesson,’ he continued as if I hadn’t spoken.
‘If you won’t take me home release me into the custody of my government. The higher authority of your people would be an acceptable alternative.’
‘Speak only when spoken to. It will obey or suffer punishment.’
‘I’ll speak when I want to.’
‘Will it?’ He released me.
I refused to rub my jaw and reveal that the lower part of my face hurt. ‘Yes.’
‘So it chooses punishment.’
He retreated an arm’s length away.
Heart straining against my ribcage, I forced myself not to move. My eyes struggled to delineate the outline of his body in the gloom. Time crawled and doubts crept in. My thoughts scurried like frightened mice. What would he do? Would he cover my skin in bruises or shove himself inside me?
My bones turned to liquid.
The alien didn’t force himself upon me. He stood unmoving and silent. His disapproval was a claw plucking my exposed nerves.
My attention switched from fear of my jailor to the increasing pressure in my abdomen. We carried on this way–him looming and me vigilant for his barest twitch–until my backside turned numb.
I cleared my throat. ‘I need to visit the water closet.’
He didn’t respond.
I slapped the metal between my legs. ‘Take this thing off me.’ I considered touching him to force his hand. Rethought it. ‘Stop ignoring me. Take this off of me. Take it off.’
The tips of my fingers hurt I needed to pee so badly. I could soil myself, but I’d have to deal with the ammonia stench.
What about when other needs became pressing?
‘What is the point of this?’ I lifted my arms in frustration. ‘Tell me, because I don’t know and to be frank,’ I glared at the darker spot of shadow where he stood, ‘I’ve had enough. You can’t treat me in this manner and expect there won’t be consequences.’
I flinched as a calloused finger whipped out to tap my temple. ‘Lower.’ He bent at the waist. ‘Its.’ He thrust his face in mine. ‘Gaze.’
So close, I could see he really didn’t have skin like mine. It was hard like a scorpion carapace. Scar tissue marred what would be flawless. The damage ranged from light scratches to shiny lesions.
I shivered and stammered a few syllables that puttered out. ‘Listen.’ My tone edged desperation. ‘It baffles me why you think you can just–’
‘Vzzt!’ Straightening in a snap, the horrible sound he buzzed sliced through me.
He turned to leave.
Being left alone in this box was worse than his stifling presence. ‘No.’ I scrambled up and rushed him, my breath a wild gasp. ‘Wait.’ I slammed face first against the closed hatch he’d left through. Blood slicked my lips and dribbled against my chin. ‘No!’ My palms hammered against the panel. ‘Don’t go. I won’t look you in the eye. I won’t.’ My knees hit the floor, my hands patting where the exit should be.
The first stirrings of despair gripped my heart.
I can’t do this.
The hatch telescoped open.
I fell back into a sprawl. I glimpsed a corridor bathed in virescent light before his body blocked it.
Head twisted on his neck, he advanced.
I shimmied backwards, eyes huge in my face.
Irritation greyed his eyes. ‘Speak.’
‘Well….’ I felt ridiculous cowering at his feet. I swiped a hand over my face and smeared the blood across my cheek to mix with my tears.
The stench of iron and taste of salt combined.
My stomach churned and added to the discomfort at my middle. ‘I need to go to the toilet.’ I sounded pathetic.
My stomach cramped, and my questioning gaze flew to his face, seeking an answer.
His eyes took on a sinister glow.
I shrank back.
He wants me to lower my gaze as if I’m a slave.
I lowered my eyes.
He moved faster than I could react and grabbed my neck. The hold didn’t hurt, but was firm. Claw tipped fingers dug into my nape, thumb pressed to my clavicle. It flexed as if he considered snapping the bone. Applying pressure, he raised me up. I stood without a peep. He shoved a hand between my legs. I squawked, but then fell quiet when the gusset of the chastity belt shifted. Cold air brushed my nether lips and the urge to pee doubled.
Could a bladder burst?
Squirming, I fought his hold and dropped onto
all fours. I clenched all over, approaching frantic as I looked around.
‘Where?’ I asked tightly.
Unimpressed, he pointed over my shoulder.
I glanced behind me then back at him. When he didn’t turn or leave to give me privacy, my face hardened. ‘To hell with it.’ I hobbled to the middle of the room and did my business over the grate. I whimpered. My knees wobbled and I grabbed them with my hands, not used to squatting. The release freed up enough mental space for a renewed surge of anger.
My whole face burned.
‘What is wrong with you that you would treat someone like this? I don’t have any water to clean myself.’
His eyes dropped to the chastity belt. ‘It is clean.’
‘Am I?’ I asked.
The device had inbuilt cleaning capabilities?
‘I don’t feel it,’ I said. ‘I want to do it myself.’
‘Lower its eyes.’
Straightening from my squat, I snapped, ‘No!’ My eyes popped. Before the last letter left my mouth, I regretted it, but I doubted that would mean anything to him.
Fury streaked across his expression. Muscles swelling to make his colossal size even greater, he started forward.
I squealed and ran.
He grabbed my arm and yanked me to his side. He closed off the crotch of the chastity belt then released me.
I’d flung myself forward to break his hold, so landed hard and smacked my head.
Curled up, I pressed my palms to my forehead and screamed behind my teeth. I cursed him. I hammered my fists on the floor, my rage so impotent, it infuriated me into garbled screeching.
I broke off panting and stared at the wall that bore flecks of spittle. ‘This isn’t happening.’ My thoughts cartwheeled, grew stretched and frayed. If I kept pushing my mind would snap long before his will. I forced calmness into my limbs. It scared me how fast my emotional state deteriorated. All my years of diplomatic training flew out the window within a half day of domination tactics.
To make things worse, my mind shifted from obsessing over expelling waste to the dryness in my throat.
Exhausted by the battle I’d lost and the war I had yet to fight, I folded into in a corner and drummed my fingers against my shin. ‘This is inhumane.’
His mouth thinned. Sharp cheekbones created deep hollows that bracketed wide lips. ‘I am not human.’
‘Unless it escaped your notice, I am.’ My baiting fell on deaf ears. I was angry enough to pretend I didn’t feel relieved. ‘What are you hoping to achieve? This won’t convince me to do what you want. Whatever that is.’ I cringed when the end of my speech sounded like a lie.
‘We will see.’
‘Yes, we will.’ I stared at the wall, unblinking.
He shifted his centre of balance, and my nose twitched.
The surrounding air infused with his overpowering male scent. It was a welcome change to the sterile, chemical tang of the cell, even if I was uncomfortable enjoying it. I covered my nose with my palm.
The frost of his gaze settled on the side of my face, its weight almost a dare.
My drumming fingers became nervous slaps. I licked my lips. I swallowed vinegary spit to wet my parched throat.
Would it matter all that much if I asked for a drink?
Chances of me winning a mediocre victory over the intergalactic thug were slim. He held my life in his hands. I had nothing to trade but the lessening of my will, because I refused to consider trade made on my back. The longer I waited, the more likely I would fall into another fit of hysterics.
I’d rather humble myself to ask for the drink and keep the pride I had left.
‘Water?’ I rasped the word, lips smacking.
When he ignored me, I sighed. He needed more. I faced him, keeping my eyes fixed down. ‘I need water.’ After a beat, I added, ‘Please?’ Heat prickled my cheeks. I scratched at the floor to give my hands something to do.
Watching his strange feet recede from view, I exhaled. My head rolled on my shoulders to thunk against the wall.
Was he going to come back, or had he left to continue my isolation?
Keeping vigil under his stony glare was a trial, but in his absence, the empty quiet grew fangs. Moisture gathered on my lashes and rolled down my temples into my ratty hair.
My shoulders shook and snot ran from my nose. The crying jag left my head foggy and my throat raw. I gave up the fight to stay alert, my eyelids screwing shut. Great. A headache tightened my forehead and pounded behind my eyes. I dehydrated. I gritted my teeth, determined to remain aloof once he returned.
Water was the next thing he would use to force my compliance.
So why fight him?
I’d obey and learn his warped lessons, because holding out meant to go without, and I needed to be strong.
Cold splashed across my face. I spluttered, and my eyes sprung open. I lunged for the extended hand and the canister he offered. Liquid ice swished across my tongue, hitting my hollow stomach like a lead weight. It tasted like sugar and clean dirt. I gulped the water against my better judgment.
It took around thirty seconds for me to retch.
‘Slow.’ He cupped the back of my head and brought the canteen to my lips. ‘Sip.’
I clamped an arm around his to stop him from leaving. I shivered at the glass-smooth flesh rubbing against my own.
Sipping, my gaze darted towards his face. I swigged a mouthful then lurched back. My stomach pitched, but the moisture was heaven.
I forced myself not to gag.
Each drop was precious.
‘Thank you,’ I said through clenched molars.
‘Breeders deserve care.’
He crouched, legs bracketing mine. He set the canister down by his ankle then placed both hands either side of my head. Heat from his body scorched the space within the cage of his limbs. I longed to snuggle into his warmth, and I rocked to curb the urge, hands balled into fists on my lap.
I refuse to touch him.
The throbbing ache I’d suffered from use of the thing around my hips morphed into a tingle. A flush spread up my neck into my face and down across my chest into my breasts. I pressed my back as flat against the wall as possible. I focused on the brutal cut of his chin rather than the expanse of blue flesh. His head dipped.
Mine tipped upwards to keep his face in view.
Nostrils flared, he released a throaty groan with those odd, brittle clicks.
I shivered.
Firm lips brushed my cheek and moist breath kissed my throat. A rumble built high in his chest. ‘Spread its legs.’
Well, shit.
I stared past the thick cords of his throat and into the shadows. I wasn’t ready for this. I had yet to come to terms with my abduction. My imprisonment. I still raged over the chastity belt and his domineering mannerisms. His demands I avoid his gaze and hold my tongue. He called me breeder for God’s sake. The meaning behind it disturbed me to such a degree, I’d shied from it.
I thought there was time.
Had I truly believed I’d talk my way out of this, or inspire enough compassion, he’d see the wrongness of his actions and take me home?
Arre.
Shiva wept!
Jesus fucking Christ.
The breadth of his shoulders dominated my peripheral vision. The immense power they’d lend to a blow should I defy him made a fizzy kind of fear liquify my bowels.
‘Spread its legs,’ he said.
Terror.
How funny.
I’d never understood the word in its truest form.
I had to say it. ‘No.’
His arm snapped out.
I flinched, but there was no pain. His fingers brushed down my stomach towards the knob and my insides crystallised.
This isn’t happening, I thought as I was swept away.
5
Bhyr
Hel Bhyr the Avatar of Destruction and First of the Horde hissed through clenched teeth. He battled a tremor fighting to tear through h
is body at the fragrant heat pouring from his breeder. It stoked a powerful urge to mount her until the twisted knot in his seed sac culminated in his get.
Bhyr slid a finger through the sticky wet coating her lurid pink slit. Its violent colour was a good indicator of fertility. Another sign that the human females were shameless.
He circled the shallow depression at the core of her sex and fretted if he could fit inside the minuscule hole.
The human mewled and arched. The mounds on her chest quivered, dark discs tipping them stiff and crinkled. A flat foot studded with nubs kicked at his stomach. He forgave it. He knew from the glaze in her golden eyes that she saw and felt nothing but the burn between her thighs. They trembled. The short lengths were squashy flesh and thin skin rather than hard muscle and tough chitin.
He fought instinctive revulsion at such weakness.
‘Make. It. Stop.’ Her whistling voice was strange and breathy in his ears.
Satisfied he’d taught the lesson, Bhyr batted aside a flailing foot. He plunged a finger into her molten depths.
Soft. Tight. Drenched.
Bhyr had studied written lore on Aztekan females. He understood their rigid channels lubricated during the release of male seed. It facilitated the offering so it might reach her egg pouch.
The human wetted for easing the girth of a warrior’s barb. It heightened pleasure.
A trait shared by the hedonistic Baxnonians.
Sensors in his finger pads overloaded as her inner muscles gripped his knuckle. The hot wet readied her for the glut of his offering.
Bhyr Page 4