Their Human Pets (Monrok Masters Book 1)

by Aubrey Cara

  “Girls,” the veran says, “these are Monrok, and it would behoove you to obey them, same as you did the king.”

  Monrok are programed to know over a thousand different languages and my internal data tells me the word “girls” is an Earther term for young females.

  “Do they all speak English?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Zapexian is the only language they’ve ever known,” she says, her black hair a strange entity of life floating in its own rhythm around her head. “Girl is just a word the king used in reference to his pets.”

  I like the term. It has a certain flavor.

  The girl with mauve-colored tresses catches my attention again. Though her eyes are now cast down, her shoulders are bravely pressed back, as if she’s determined to be strong no matter her fate. Something about her show of spirit calls to me. I wonder if she will take my lifebringer with as much forbearance, or if I can get the little pet to break.

  Her tits aren’t as lush as the Alogorian breeder I nearly stole, but they sit high on her chest, tipped with delightfully dusky pink areolas that nearly match her hair. Her bottom, from what I can tell, is nicely rounded, and my cock swells just thinking of gripping the flesh as I work my cock between her legs.

  I glance over at Ren, hoping the female I’ve chosen isn’t the one he’s been pining for. Relief courses through me to see him staring at the one at the rear of the group, standing back from the rest as if frightened to come any closer. She has a plump form, honey-bronzed skin, and long blue hair. Her tits are plentiful, and a blue jewel winks out from the front of her cunt.

  “That one.” Ren points at her. She shrinks back even farther, the scent of her fear and dread permeating the air. He growls in reaction and strides forward, presumably to collect his female. The veran stays him with a hand that doesn’t quite touch him but waves over his chest in the strange fashion that has the desired effect.

  “Have a care, sire,” she warns. “They are the king’s sheltered pets.”

  Taking exception to her edict, Ren towers over her. “The king is dead. They are now property of the Monrok who stand before you.”

  The veran’s lips twist up as if she finds Ren’s display entertaining, and she stretches an arm wide, her palm open, as if to say, “They are all yours.” But they are ours. Done waiting, I march over and take the female I want by the arm. She’s so petite, the top of her head doesn’t even reach my shoulder. She doesn’t fight, so I relax my hold and turn toward the men.

  Ryat and Fyhn pull a lush, curly violet-haired female between them. She is heavily pierced and as short as my pet. I guess they have decided to share. Screvan and Tal stand across from two pets who clutch each other’s hands. The idiots don’t look like they know what to do with them.

  “If you’re going to claim a female, let it be now,” I tell them. “And if you want to keep her after any of our brethren arrive, make sure she carries your scent well.” Ren has already disappeared with his female. I roll my eyes. Impatient aheh. “Are you sure you don’t want one of the pets?” I ask Dag, looking back at Tal and Screvan who have finally moved forward to touch the pair of nervous females before them.

  Dag chuckles and crudely rubs his erect cock through his pants as he eyes the veran. “I’ve always wanted to try oracle pussy.” He nods his head, “Enjoy your female.”

  “I plan to.” I look down at my new pet. “Do you have your own quarters?” I ask her.

  “Yes, sire.”

  “Show me the way, pet.”

  I release her arm and let her lead me out of the room and down the hall. We round the corner and move down another hall before she stops and presses the wall. Her door panel glides open, and we step into a sumptuous space with a large platform at the center with coverings just as ornate as those in the great room we just left.

  “Did the king visit you here?” I can still smell a hit of his lingering essence in the air, though it would have been at least fifty cycles since he’d visited my female. It makes me want to claim and mark her all the more.

  “Yes, sire,” she answers meekly, and I wonder what else she does with such docile servitude.

  I strip my jacket and fist my shirt, tearing it over my head and tossing it to the floor.

  Her eyes nervously dart up and away.

  Oh yes, my little pet knows she is about to be claimed. I am going to so thoroughly drench her in my essence that any other being who catches her scent will know who her master is.

  Xanthia

  “What’s your name?” he asks, his voice so much more gruff and uncultured than any I have ever heard before.

  “Xanthia.” I force out the reply and try to keep my eyes down cast but keep sneaking glances. The only males I’ve ever seen are the king and his gearan. The king certainly did not have the Monrok’s impressively sculpted musculature. His stare is direct and intense. He’s overwhelming in every way. Just being in his presence is causing an awakening between my thighs. He has the kind of warrior physique the veran used to titter about, and now I understand why.

  A pang of sadness clenches my chest for those veran who died with our master. Out of all of them, only Vera is left.

  “Xanthia,” he says as if tasting my name on his tongue. He fingers my hair and strokes his knuckles down my cheek as he moves so close I can feel the heat of his body. His tash stone-blue eyes wander over my form, his gaze heated and possessive. Master never looked at me like that, but to compare the two beings seems unfair. Despite sharing a similar height, they couldn’t be more different.

  While King Thaain was attractive and imposing in his own right, this Monrok has an unsettling rough beauty to him, part terrifying, part fascinating.

  “Are you my new master?” The words pop out of my mouth before I can gauge the wisdom of speaking out of turn. I glance up to see if he is displeased, but he only stares down at me with the same lust-filled gaze.

  I try not to squirm in the silence. He is my new master. I know he must be. His thick muscles and scars show he has earned and fought for his place of power over beings like me.

  “I am,” he finally says, unclasping the closure of his pants. “Climb up on the platform so your new master may properly claim you.”

  My knees turn to liquid for a moment, my stomach filled with flutters, but I manage to say, “Yes, master,” as I know I should. I’ve been raised to be a good, obedient pet. Serving my master is my only duty.

  I still close my eyes before he pushes his pants down his hips, not wanting to see the instrument he is going to hurt me with. Whether I care for my duty or not is as irrelevant as my comfort in performing. Turning to do his bidding, I try to will the tremors running through me away as I position myself the way the king preferred, face down, thighs spread wide, ass in the air.

  Vera, the king’s oracle who saved us pets, told me a dark Monrok would be my new master, but, even knowing that, I can’t help the trepidation for what is to come. The sumptuous bedding is silky under my cheek and chest, but I know I’ll be gripping it in pain in a moment. I fold my hands under my cheek and try to be as still as possible as to not earn his wrath.

  The king let his oldest son, Prince Kaihan, played with me once. The prince never fucked me, but he did use the electric whip on me. It took me five cycles in medical bay to recover. Thankfully the king never let Kaihan play with any of us pets again.

  The platform dips behind me, and my muscles tighten even further, if possible. Large, callused hands run over my back and thighs, and I will myself to relax. It hurts more if you tense.

  He palms my ass cheeks. His thumbs slide into my crease and spread me open as if for his inspection. This new master’s perusal makes me want to squirm.

  “Xanthia, with a pretty little flower,” he says as if to himself. “Are you going to bloom open for me?”

  “Yes, master,” I answer instinctively.

  “We shall see.”

  Something wet and warm laps up against my slit, and I realize he’s licking me the wa
y we females do for each other’s pleasure. The sensation helps me relax a modicum, but his ministrations are not for my enjoyment and are over nearly as soon as they begin. He positions his hot and heavy length against my cunt and pushes forward. My breath catches, and I whimper at the stretching burn.

  He pauses, his cock head bumping against my internal burrier. “Are you a virgin?” His hands grip my hips so tightly I’m sure I’ll bruise.

  “Yes, sire. The king never used my maternal orifice.”

  “Good. My cock is the only one your cunt will ever know.”

  His hips punch forward, burying his girth to the hilt. I can’t help the scream that tears from my throat. He only pauses for a second before pulling out and slamming back in, beginning to drill me heavy and fast. I grip the bed to keep from sliding forward, but he holds me in place for his assault.

  I’m split in two from the pain of it, my face buried in the platform to muffle my cries. His length seems to grow even bigger, agonizingly stretching my walls wide before he shouts, pushing so deep my belly cramps, and spasms.

  Wet heat fills me like a balm to my abused flesh, and I nearly sigh in relief.

  Still embedded inside me, my new master rolls us to our sides, and curls around me. Post coital touching never happened with the king. Not like this. The Monrok’s large form wrapped around me feels strangely comforting, yet I lie tense in his embrace. Not knowing what to expect from him has me on edge. His cock is still too large inside me.

  “What is this?” His fingers trail over my tear-stained cheeks. “You have been altered, but you are still capable of lacrimation from pain?”

  “Master liked it when we cried,” I choke out, my throat raw from screaming.

  His growl rumbles behind me, his hand wrapping around my neck. I tremble, knowing I’ve displeased him. “I am your master.” He turns my face up to his, licking up the tears from one cheek. He rolls them on his tongue. He presses his lips against my face in a strange way that has my body settling. “You will only cry to please me, now.”

  He seems to be waiting for a reply, so I clip out a quick, “Yes, master.”

  He settles back behind me, his hand reaching between my legs to circle my clit. I whimper, my body waking from its numb state. His cock is still a hard brand inside my aching channel. He gathers the leaking wetness from where we’re joined and goes back to circling my clit until I’m panting with built-up tension.

  “Have you known pleasure before, pet?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “By whose hand?”

  “My own, and the other pets,” I answer honestly, hoping it will not earn his disfavor.

  “No more playing with the other females. And you do not touch this pretty little cunt unless I tell you to.” I shiver at his decree. “Your pleasure is now mine, little one. Do you understand?”

  His hips begin rocking while his fingers circling my nub pick up their tempo. I gasp, arching. I cry out when his hand slaps down on my clit, sizzling through me like lightning.

  “Answer me when I ask you a question, Xanthia.”

  “Yes, master,” I gasp. “Yes, I understand.”

  “Are you going to come on my cock, pet?”

  Solars of training makes my answer quick. “Only if master allows it.”

  A chuckle rumbles my back. “That’s right, Xanthia. Now, come on your master’s cock.”

  His fingers roll my clit in time with every forward thrust of his length until I’m writhing and pushing back onto him, and pleasure spirals through me. His hard length grows thick, once again pushing against my straining sheath, but it’s only a pinch of discomfort this time. He still rocks his hips, his bulbous cock rubbing against an internal spot that steals my breath and makes my body quiver.

  Stars dance before my eyes. I hear his harsh shout, and his essence fills me until it spills out and runs down our thighs. I have never known pleasure by my master’s hand before. My head spins with gratitude and weariness and fear that this is somehow a trick.

  I drift into slumber while he still throbs inside me, but waken when he slides his length out only to prod my anus with his slippery cock. He gathers wetness from my cunt and our thighs and paints my hole, slicking me.

  I have to bite my lip to keep back my plea for mercy, but a pathetic whimper full of fright escapes. Though a different shape, his cock seems much larger than the king’s, and therefore will likely hurt much more.

  He runs a soothing hand down my flank, uttering hushing sounds even as the wide head of him breaches my rectum. “Every hole you have belongs to me, little one. And I can still smell him on you. I want no one’s scent on you but my own.”

  His smooth length slides in steadily, and I must be grateful for the wetness easing his way, even as I grit my teeth and will my body to be pliant for his use. He rests once inside me, giving me an opportunity to get accustomed to his girth.

  I’m thankful he’s possibly calmed after already spilling his essence twice. The king never showed such consideration, and his ridged Zapex cock was an endless torture, every node pushing into me larger than the last.

  My new Monrok master has only one domed node at the head of his length, and he stops before pulling it out all the way, and smoothly glides back in. The sensation, while not comfortable, sizzles up my spine like an electric charge. By the third stroke, my legs are quivering. His arms tighten around me, and he plucks at my nipples.

  “I can scent your confusion and your pleasure, my little flower.” He nips and bites along my shoulder and neck. “Do you think you can come like this?”

  “It aches, master.” The stinging pain of his entry has faded, but is still there.

  “But it aches so good, doesn’t it, Xanthia?”

  A whimper is the only reply I’m capable of, because while it hurts, the slide of his cock also is eliciting a body-shaking sensation that makes my cunt feel empty and needy.

  He chuckles. “Do you think your luscious ass will milk me the same way your tight little cunt did?” His fingers circle my clit, and my back passage automatically clamps down on his burgeoning length. A low moan works up my throat, and I try to will my body to relax.

  A fist in my hair pulls my head back against his shoulder. “Do not fight it,” he snarls in my ear. “I want to feel your pleasure while I take your ass, Xanthia.”

  He rolls us to our stomachs and pulls me up onto my knees. His body still covers me, his long legs bracket mine as his thrusts turn powerful and deep.

  His fingers circle my clit as he thrusts. ”Give me your pleasure.”

  “Please, master, I can’t.” I’m flying down an endless tunnel; the end seems just out of reach.

  “Give. Me. Your. Pleasure.” He yanks me upright by my throat, his other hand slapping down on my cunt. His grip on my windpipe tightens, holding me in place as he spanks my cunt with hard slaps directly over my nerve bundle.

  I gurgle a choked scream, writhing in his hold, struggling for breath. Black spots dance before my eyes, and my body breaks. I peak harder than I ever have before.

  His arms wrap around me while I’m still strung tight, quaking, and he hammers into me, slamming me down on his length with every stroke.

  I gasp for breath as his cock swells against my pulsing channel. ”Please, master, no.” He’s growing too large. My legs quiver from the pain of it.

  He covers my mouth with his large rough hand as he surges into me hard one last time, growling in my neck before biting down.

  The sound of my muffled scream is like that of a wounded beast. He shoves two fingers into my dripping empty cunt, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit, and I again cry out against his hand, tears running down my face.

  He tilts my heads back and laps them up and presses his lips to my cheek again. “Now I own you, little one. Every little bit of you. Even your tears.”

  LYHNX

  My new little female dozes fitfully and comes awake when I finally will myself to slide out of her warm body. She’s lovely in
this drowsy state. I stroke her petal-soft cheek, and she nuzzles my hand, more guileless and trusting than any creature I have ever encountered.

  The veran was right. These pets have been sheltered in an unfathomable way. For a moment, I worry at what it truly means to be the new masters to the pets aboard this ship. Where they once had a fleet of Monrok guards and the king’s gearan for protection and tending to their every need, the females now have only a motley crew of rebel Monrok. Perhaps the Monrok on Kadeema had the right of it mating in pairs, but my vision hazes with fury at the thought of another touching my female.

  We have claimed the pets, and will care for them, and die for them if need be.

  It will have to be enough.

  She turns slumberous eyes on me fully, for a moment forgetting her lessons in meekness. “Sire, may I wash myself?” She squirms uncomfortably, and I know my essence must be sticky and dry between her thighs.

  “Only minimally. A ship of my brethren was spotted a few shifts away. If we have any visitors, I do not want any doubt as to who you belong to.”

  “Yes, master.” Her eyes go down, and I try to scent her emotions, but she has blocked me. The veran must have taught her how.

  Zepax can root through one’s thoughts, or “mind sift” as they call it, but only if they touch you. They are not empathic. Monrok can scent and feel the emotions of others always, even if we can’t experience them fully ourselves. Xanthia is much better at blocking than the other human I encountered. The only time my pet let her guard down was when I was fucking her tight little holes.

  She rolls to get up and gasps. She moves slowly and, finally, I can scent her discomfort, but nothing more. My seed is in sticky trails down her shapely thighs; stripes of it cover her perfectly rounded ass. I want to reach for her again, despite knowing she aches from my rough use.

  She pulls out a bowl and water and starts sponging away the thickest trails. The scent of my essence on her skin wafts around the room with her ministrations, and my cock jerks with possessive interest.