Masters of Eden

by Loki Renard

  “Turn over,” Ghost said, his voice husky with lust.

  She obeyed, lying on her stomach. Behind her, his hands cupped her buttocks and spread them wide, exposing every little bit of her pussy and ass to his gaze. Eden gasped as she felt his tongue lap against the entrance of her pussy, then trail up and swirl around the dark bud of her anus.

  “What…” The question died on her lips. He was tonguing her bottom, preparing her for a far greater intrusion than tongue or fingers. He was going to fuck her bottom, and she was going to let him.

  “Relax,” he urged as he pressed the head of his cock against that tight bud. “Let me in…”

  He pushed forward and she squeaked, her body unaccustomed to the intrusion, but giving way to it nonetheless. There was a tightness, a hotness accompanied by a slap to her cheeks that made her buck her bottom and then he was inside her. The head of his cock was buried inside her bottom and she was trapped around it.

  “Ghost…” she whimpered his name.

  He ran his hand up the length of her back in a soothing stroke. “Relax,” he repeated in those deep, husky tones. “You’ll enjoy this much more if you relax.” The trickling of soft, wet gel accompanied his words, extra lubricant for a tight little hole that produced none of its own. Slowly, he began to work himself back and forth inside her bottom, spreading that lubricant until she felt his thrusts become smoother and easier to handle.

  Her empty pussy clenched with need as he slid deeper inside her body, filling her bottom and flooding her with entirely new sensations. She had never been so very claimed, so very completely owned. He must have known how vulnerable it would make her feel to have her bottom fucked, for he was tender and gentle, whispering words of encouragement as he slid deeper… deeper until she was entirely filled.

  “Good girl,” he murmured in her ear as he slid his hands under her body and caressed her breasts. “Move your bottom. Let me feel you fuck me.”

  She blushed as she obeyed, sliding her hips back so that it was no longer he who was fucking her, but she who was fucking her bottom on him, she who was so desirous of his cock that she would take it in any hole he desired.

  Her reward came swiftly in the form of his fingers caressing her pussy, alternately filling her up and sliding out to massage her clit. Every time she impaled herself on him, she felt the welling pleasure rising in her body, flooding her pussy and her bottom, spreading in hot waves to every part of her physical frame. And still his fingers worked their magic, thrusting inside her tight pussy until she gasped and begged for release.

  “Keep fucking yourself on me,” Ghost ordered, pressing two fingers deep inside her pussy while his other hand began to lightly slap over the hood of her clit. “Keep fucking your naughty little bottom.”

  “Ghooosstt!!” Eden cried out as a shockingly powerful orgasm ripped through her. His hands, his fingers, his voice, his cock, him, she was filled with him in every sense. Her shaking, clenching, wailing orgasm was too much for him to stand. She felt his hands clamp on her hips as he surged forward, his cock erupting in her bottom, filling her with his essence until she could contain it no more.

  She felt a trickling warmth as he slid out of her bottom, and knew that it was his cum leaking from her well fucked ass. The sweet heat of orgasm and the relief of feeling his love all around her sent her into his arms where she pressed more closely to him than ever before, receiving his kisses all over her face.

  “I love you, Eden,” he murmured down at her, holding her close.

  “I love you too,” she promised. She did love him. She loved him with a fierce intensity that made tears prickle at her eyelashes and made her voice crack. “I missed you.”

  “You’ll never have to miss me again,” Ghost said, cradling her close. “You’re my girl. And you’ll be my girl forever.”

  Chapter Nine

  From the moment of Ghost and Eden’s reconciliation, all was well. Love had triumphed and the threesome began to thrive in the new world.

  “Ghost!” Mixer’s voice crackled over the ship’s communication system, his baritone echoing in every chamber. “We have a Type 1 issue. Please report to the bridge. I repeat. We are facing a Type 1 threat. Report to the bridge.”

  Ghost left a rather pleasant tropical simulation in which he had been swimming along a coral reef teeming with aquatic life to respond to Mixer’s call. Upon reaching the bridge, he was pleased to note that nothing was on fire. That was a start. “What has she done now?”

  “Who? What? No. It’s not Eden.” Mixer looked up at Ghost, his eyes lit with excitement. “I’m reading a signature. From a ship.”

  “An Alliance ship?”

  “No,” Mixer said, practically squeaking. “Something else.”

  “You mean a Coalition ship?”

  “I mean something entirely alien.”

  “Impossible,” Ghost said, coming around to peer at the read out. “There has been no record of contact with any non-human sentient aliens capable of space travel since the colonization began.”

  “Get a stylus, boss,” Mixer said. “We’re going to need to update those records.”

  “Not so quick. They might be humans yet; the ship’s signature could be strange because of a new design. We have been out of the loop for more than half a decade. Who knows what technology they have now. Who knows what the new ships look like.”

  “I think it’s alien.”

  “We’ll confirm that soon enough,” Ghost said, frowning at the screen. “They’ve moved into orbit. I think they’re planning on making an entry. Right on top of us, more or less.”

  “Oh, yeah. I think it’s safe to say they’ve spotted us,” Mixer agreed.

  “Let’s go out and welcome them.”

  Ghost, Mixer, and Eden waited outside the airlock as the alien ship landed, descending from on high with the delicacy of a ballerina. There was no burning fireball as they entered the atmosphere, and their ship did not seem to suffer any ill effect from the entry.

  “You should wait inside the ship,” Ghost said to Eden.

  “If they’re hostile, pretty sure they’ll find me inside the ship too,” she murmured back.

  The alien ship was not large, about the same size as theirs, more or less. It was torpedo-shaped, or dildo-shaped, as Eden pointed out with a giggle, and Ghost ignored. Smooth and white, it floated down out of the atmosphere and came to a feather-soft landing at the far end of the clearing. There were no burning thrusters. There was no apparent chaos. The ship slipped through space as if space itself were a minor inconvenience hardly worthy of it.

  A hatch opened in the side of the vessel and three bipeds stepped out. They seemed odd at a distance, and odder still as they drew closer. Their heads were much larger than one might reasonably expect them to be, but they made up for that by being supported by two necks rising from the outermost point of each of their shoulders. They were but five feet tall, which made them less intimidating than they might otherwise have been, but the weapons in their hands engendered caution.

  “Those are definitely not humans,” Mixer observed grimly.

  “No. They’re not.” Ghost pushed Eden back behind them as a measure of protection. They’d have to go through him to get to her. It was something of a comfort for Eden, but not much. The aliens were quite terrifying with great big dark eyes set in those bulbous heads. What size must their brains be! Their skin was an odd hue, somewhere between purple and gray, their mouths were small and almost human-like, but for the fact that they did not seem to have any teeth. The aliens all wore the same white glowing robes, phosphorescent clothing that emitted light with every step and left a trail of blackened ferns after them. Where they walked, death seemed to follow.

  “What… er…” Mixer stumbled for words for a second. “What do we do?”

  “There are protocols for alien contact. We’ve never had to use them, but they’re there.”

  “Humans!” The aliens stopped several feet off and spoke to one another. Their langu
age was quite decipherable, though it was not English. Somehow, they spoke not in words, but in intentions. One did not need small mouth noises to decode their meaning. “They are humans.”

  “Yes.”

  “But this is not a human planet.”

  “I always wanted a human,” one of the aliens remarked.

  “There are three. Two males and a female. That’s enough for a breeding program.”

  “Back inside the ship,” Ghost ordered. “Now.”

  They began to sidle backwards so as not to disturb the aliens, but their movement was soon noticed. As one, the aliens lifted their weapons.

  “Run!” Ghost yelled the order, sending them all scuttling toward the safe harbor of the ship. But it was not to be. They ran, but they did not go anywhere. Some kind of force field had lifted them inches off the ground, removing all traction. They were running in space, nowhere to go.

  “Ghost!” Eden heard the panic in her voice.

  “Don’t worry,” Ghost said, drawing her into a hug. “We will keep you safe.”

  She believed him, in spite of significant evidence to the contrary.

  “Those little two-necked freaks are going to regret this,” Mixer growled. His anger was primal; she had never seen him so angry. “I’m going to crush their bubble heads.”

  “Send them to the ship,” the aliens said. “To the mammal enclosure.”

  The field around them glowed bright for a moment, then the world went away. Eden could not see a thing; she was blinded by the intense whiteness of the field. When it began to subside, she found herself sitting in a very strange place. Ghost and Mixer were there too; all three of them were standing in what was for all intents and purposes, a cell. Thick bars separated them from the aliens, who had apparently taken the same white light joyride.

  “Look at them. They’re so strange.”

  “Don’t get too close to the bars,” one of the aliens warned his curious companion. “Humans can be dangerous.”

  The enclosure was a very odd sort of space; it was clearly the sort of environment the aliens thought humans would like to live in. It was barely the size of any one of their quarters on the ship, with just enough space for them all to walk around and lie down in, but not much more than that. There was something like a bed, a big pile of soft stuffing in one corner without any sheets or blankets or pillows of any kind. The floor was white and sterile, as were the walls. There was no toilet, but a pile of what looked like wood shavings piled up in an oversized bowl. It was more a hamster cage than a cell, really, Eden decided.

  She looked at Ghost and Mixer helplessly, hoping they had some kind of answer. They seemed just as befuddled as she.

  Mixer went to the bars, wrapped his brawny hands around them, and glared at the aliens. His attention drew one of the aliens toward him.

  “I think this one likes us.”

  “They do not read human body language terribly well,” Ghost noted grimly as a fascinated alien approached Mixer. Its expression was unreadable, but the lack of fear was clear in the bold way it came right up to the bars and looked into his eyes.

  Mixer moved fast, grabbed the alien by one of its necks and squeezed, shouting, “Let us out! Now!”

  “Mixer, no!” Ghost yelled the warning, but it was too late. The other aliens had procured nasty little weapons, trained them on Mixer, and fired. Their discharge zapped Mixer and sent him arcing across the enclosure onto the floor where he lay very still.

  Ghost and Eden rushed to his side. Ghost checked for a pulse. “It’s okay. His vital signs are normal. He’s just out for a bit.”

  “The male may need to be fixed,” the alien said, standing at the barrier. “It would calm his aggression.”

  “That would affect the breeding program,” another alien commented.

  “The white-haired one is a better specimen regardless.”

  “Some prefer the dark-haired ones. They sell better in the west.”

  “They want to breed us like poodles,” Eden murmured to Ghost. “This is insane.”

  “We’ll put her to the dark-haired one first a couple times. With the right treatment, they can have up to five in a litter. We can trade the young out for other litters and expand the program.”

  “We have to escape,” Eden said in a hushed, horrified tone.

  “Yes,” Ghost agreed grimly. “We do.”

  “The female has already fallen. We will have to wait until her next cycle.”

  Eden looked at Ghost with fresh horror. “What do they mean?”

  “I think they mean you’re pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?”

  “We have been… well, you have…”

  “I get it,” Eden said. “I just didn’t think… so soon…”

  “It only takes once in theory.”

  “I know…” Eden crumpled into his arms. “This is the worst way to find out,” she sobbed against his chest. Joy was welling in her, along with a fear deeper than any she had ever known. Fear not just for herself, but for the life they had created.

  “Don’t worry,” Ghost reassured her. “We’re going to get out of here. We have significant advantage over these aliens.”

  Eden looked around at the enclosure, at Mixer’s prone figure, and wondered if Ghost had actually lost his mind. “What advantage?”

  “We can understand them. They don’t understand us at all. That’s an advantage.”

  “If a goldfish understands English, it doesn’t help it escape from the bowl.”

  “No, but this isn’t a bowl. This is a spaceship,” Ghost pointed out. “And this isn’t a cell that will hold us long.”

  Eden didn’t know what his plan was, but she took strength from his confidence. Below them, Mixer looked so vulnerable. Eden had never seen him like that, and she hated it. He was physically the strongest, the one who never doubted himself, and the aliens wanted to do unspeakable things to portions of his anatomy of which she was very fond.

  “We have frightened them.”

  “They will forget soon enough. They have five-minute memories.”

  “Some say humans are sentient… there are stories about…”

  “Hush! Look at them, crouching there, trying to understand why their friend is asleep. They are not sentient. They are base carbon life forms, good only for service.”

  “These aliens are assholes,” Eden whispered to Ghost.

  “Agreed,” he said softly, patting her hand. “And they’ve brought us on board a ship full of their technology, which is far advanced from anything we’ve ever seen.”

  “You… you’re enjoying this?” Eden’s sotto voce rose to a squeak.

  “This is the first time humans have made real contact, at least as far as I know,” Ghost said, his blue eyes sparkling. “We’ve been colonizing planets for decades now without running into a sentient life form.”

  “As far as we know. These aliens don’t think we’re sentient. How many creatures have we dismissed so equally out of hand?”

  “I don’t know,” Ghost admitted. “But none of them had ships like this. I would have noticed a mud-skipper with a spaceship.”

  Eden snorted. Ghost’s good humor was somewhat contagious.

  “What are you two laughing about?” Mixer asked the question groggily as he started to come around.

  “Sh,” Ghost ordered. “Stay down and try not to do anything else stupid.” He put his hand firmly on Mixer’s chest to make sure Mixer didn’t get up and start another rampage. The aliens were watching them, silent now.

  “Do you think they’re going to do it?”

  Eden snorted, realizing the aliens expected them all to start rutting any moment. “Do they really expect a show after stuffing us into this box and shooting one of us?”

  “Probably,” Ghost said. “We’re dumb animals, remember?”

  “They’re making a lot of those noises. Mating calls?”

  “Just senseless chatter.”

  Mixer growled softly. “Just one,” he said. �
��Let me kill just one.”

  “They sleep up to twelve hours a day. We should let them rest.”

  With that, the aliens withdrew. The lights went off with their departure, plunging the three into darkness.

  “We have to escape,” Eden said, putting a hand to her belly.

  “We do,” Ghost agreed. “Fortunately, I think there’s a latch on that door there.”

  “A latch?”

  Ghost went up to it, fiddled with it for a moment, then a portion of the bars swung open. “I don’t think these aliens give us much credit for being intelligent creatures,” he said. “Fortunately.”

  “Fuck, yes,” Mixer said gleefully.

  “This might be our one chance. We have to be careful. We don’t know how many aliens there are, how big the ship is or where the exits are.”

  “We know how big the ship is,” Mixer disagreed. “We saw it come down on the instruments. It can’t be much larger than ours. Probably only holds those three aliens. They’re obviously on a collecting trip. I say we kill them, take the ship, and get off this planet.”

  “I say we stun them, leave them on this planet, and take their ship,” Ghost amended.

  “I say we get the hell out of this room and start moving,” Eden said. “I hate this place.”

  The little party began moving through the ship. The doors opened for them without hesitation, which made their escape all the easier. Apparently the aliens had not thought to secure the rest of their ship, being content with a simple latch on their human cage. The interior of the vessel was sleek and dark, triangular in many places with the walls sloping up to a soft point above their heads.

  I wonder if we could mate with the humans.

  Ghost lifted his hand and called a halt as the intention floated through the ship. They could not see the alien, but they could detect its musings from quite a distance.

  “Weapon,” he whispered, pointing to a rack on a nearby wall, which was replete with the weapons the aliens had used on them. They each took one, finding it to be of strange, nigh incomprehensible design aside from the fact that the barrel of the weapon should clearly be pointed in the direction of the creature one wished to stun and there was a trigger much like a gun had. There was also a dial, which went from one green bar all the way to three red bars. Mixer fiddled with his weapon for a second before nodding his readiness.