Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas

by Grace Goodwin

  Chapter Two

  “So you thought you would be the hero and burst in to save this Crostis’ life? How noble.” The Dstorian military official sounded skeptical through the translator. The alien also had his one central eye raised, though it was hard to tell if the gesture meant disbelief. It might mean he had an upset stomach. If he had a stomach.

  Siridin affected indignation. “I had good intentions. I came through the cockpit ceiling, and when I called out, he opened the other door and aimed a blaster at me. So I tackled him. We fought. I won.” He shrugged.

  “And then you left all of those wonderful supplies untouched, until we could come and investigate.”

  Siridin shrugged again. “Yes.” The alien raised his one eye again. Yep, it meant skepticism.

  “Siridin Sens, prepare to be boarded. We’ll be searching your ship from top to bottom for contraband.”

  “Hey, wait a minute! I didn’t touch anything. You can go check!”

  “We will be. After we search your ship.” The weapons pointed at his ship from the bigger Dstorian craft meant Siridin had little choice. He slapped the connection shut and swore.

  He knew there were only moments before the patrol ship sealed itself to his other airlock, at the far end of the cargo bay. He pounded back to the room Keelie was in.

  “Get up. Now.” He dragged her out of bed and pulled her into the hall. “We’re about to be boarded, so you need to hide.” He shoved her into the ‘fresher. “There. Down, under the toilet. See that panel in the wall? Push it, and crawl in there.”

  She dropped to the floor and slipped underneath the shiny bowl sitting only about a half meter off the floor. She gave the panel a push, and disappeared into the darkness. He pulled it shut and went to greet his visitor.

  * * *

  Alone in the dark, she leaned her head against the wall. There was just enough room to stand. She was tired. She dozed off and the dream that had haunted her for weeks began replaying. Two Anterrin men stood in front of a small spaceship, hugging and congratulating each other. It was always a short dream.

  This time was different, though. One of the men turned to look at her. “You’re not safe,” he whispered. “Siridin’s room is safe.”

  She woke abruptly. The voice she’d heard in her dream echoed inside her head. Siridin’s room is safe. She knew she had to listen to that voice. She dropped to her knees, pushed the panel open, and crawled out, pulling the small door shut. As she stepped out of the ‘fresher into the main room, she heard the murmur of voices on the other side of the wall in the cargo area. She turned toward Siridin’s room, and then stopped. Thinking quickly, she went back into her room and pulled the covers straight. Then she hopped across the hall again. It was hard to make herself go into his personal space, but the feeling was so strong she felt compelled.

  It was not neat. The covers from his bed lay mostly on the floor. Clothing was strewn everywhere. A bottle of something alcoholic, and mostly empty, stood on a small table. She shook her head, took a deep breath, and slipped off the shirt.

  * * *

  This Dstorian official was not the same one who had ordered the boarding. This one poked at things thoroughly, clearly obeying orders, but looking like he’d rather be somewhere else. Siridin was tempted to offer a bribe, but that would imply he had something to hide. He followed along and answered questions about his origins (Anteros), his destination (no place in particular, but if the Dstorians had any cargo he’d be happy to earn some credits), and if anything interesting had happened lately (no, except this salvage).

  They arrived in the main room and his guest spent a few minutes opening cabinet doors and knocking on walls. They came to the ‘fresher. To Siridin’s horror, he immediately went to the panel under the toilet, murmuring something about it being standard on this model of ship. He gave a push to the panel and swung it open, shining his light into the space.

  Siridin gaped as it found nothing. The official stood back up. “Almost done.”

  They entered Keelie’s cabin next. The bed should have been rumpled, but it was made up with military precision. Completely confused, Siridin followed the official out and over to his room.

  There, on his own bed, lay Keelie, facing the door, with her legs splayed wide and her fingers plunged between her glistening folds. She was masturbating, and as Siridin opened his mouth to say something, she cried out and shook in a magnificent orgasm.

  The Dstorian official stood absolutely still for a moment, then backed up so fast he ran into Siridin. “Excuse me, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The official was stuttering as he pushed Siridin aside to exit the room. Siridin took one last confused look at Keelie, still stroking her folds and giving off soft moans, and followed the rapidly retreating official toward the back where his ship was docked.

  “It all looks fine. I’m transmitting the clearance for you to salvage. We’ll be notifying the owners within a day, so my advice is to take what you can and get the hell out of here.” He disappeared through the airlock to his ship, and it detached so fast Siridin almost didn’t get his own airlock closed in time.

  He turned back into the ship and stalked through the cargo area toward the galley.

  “Keelie! What the fuck were you doing?” The bellow echoed around the empty space as the enraged man headed back.

  * * *

  Keelie knew she couldn’t have resisted the urge to do what she did, but she also knew she was in trouble. By the time Siridin emerged from the cargo hold into the galley, she had the shirt back on and was kneeling with her face on the floor.

  All she could see from her vantage point were the tips of his boots a half meter away. He said nothing for a moment, merely growling. She would bet her stars he’d turned a beautiful shade of dark copper.

  “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” His softly worded question scared her more than if he’d been yelling.

  She was not about to tell him she’d been hearing voices in her dreams. “I-I had this feeling I wasn’t safe where I was. If he’d found the hiding place we would both be in a lot of trouble. So I figured if I was masturbating, he might get embarrassed, and it would deflect attention from you and the ship. Was I right?” She knew she’d been right.

  “That isn’t the point. Look, I’m not your master. But I am the captain of this ship, and that’s almost worse than being your master. I will not tolerate any disobedience What. So. Ever.” He took a deep breath. “When your master punished you, how did he do it?”

  Her shoulders slumped as she whispered, “He, um, tied my hands up over my head and whipped me.” She braced herself for what she knew was next. The stretch, the burning agony in her arms, and then the fiery lashes of the whip striking her skin. The tip would curl around like a snake and snap against her skin, usually leaving a bleeding welt behind. She would scream and dance around, trying to avoid the next blow, but it didn’t matter; he’d snap the whip again and again until she was hoarse. She’d spend the night in agony, and then in the morning when she was strapped into her place in the nectar house, the men would line up to wait for her. It was believed that nectar from a whipped human woman was sweeter than usual.

  Siridin walked to the table and pulled out a chair to sit. “Come here, now.”

  She rose on shaky legs and approached him, her eyes noticing every speck on the metal floor.

  “I prefer a more intimate punishment.” He tugged her to stand by his right side, and then pressed on her back. “Lie down across my lap.”

  What? He was going to spank her? She hesitated.

  “I can arrange for a whip, if you prefer.”

  At the threat, she draped herself over his legs. He was large enough that neither her hands nor her feet touched the floor.

  “Why did you feel you weren’t safe when you were hiding?” He was no longer the gruff Anterrin male of a few minutes ago. His voice was almost tender. As he asked the question, he raised the shirt up and stroked her bare back and cheeks. The touch
was both electric and relaxing, until his hand caressed the curve of her ass down to the back of her leg. She had no barrier to her most private parts.

  “You just tensed up.”

  “I-I’m sorry, sir. I’ll try to relax.” Over the last three years, harsh lessons had been learned about who had the right to access her body.

  The hand stilled. “Keelie, I’m not going to put my hand—or any other part of me—between your legs, without permission. It’s beautiful, it’s tempting, and it’s wet, but it’s yours.”

  No one had said those words to her, ever, since she had been ripped from her home. “Okay...” she trailed off, not sure what else to say.

  A sudden smack on her bare skin caught her by surprise. “Ah!”

  “Okay, what?”

  This she understood. “Okay, sir.”

  “You will respect that I’m in charge here. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, why did you feel you weren’t safe?” His hand resumed the stroking.

  “This sounds really stupid now. I fell asleep for a moment and had a dream, and someone in the dream said I wasn’t safe there.”

  The hand stilled once more. “Is that all?”

  There was more, but she wasn’t going to admit it. “Yes, sir. That’s all.”

  “The next time you have to choose between a dream and a direct order, what are you going to do?”

  “Obey the direct order, sir. I’m sorry.”

  “In this case, it turned out well. But I can’t have you making those decisions, so that’s why I’m going to punish you.” His hand left her skin for a moment before he slapped it back down with a crack, smacking both cheeks across the middle. It wasn’t too bad. The hand came down again, smack, and this one stung a little. She could do this.

  Then he started swatting in earnest, and she wasn’t so sure.

  His hand set up a steady rhythm, spanking each place over and over until each blow felt like a hot coal dropped on her skin. Then he moved, and she got a moment of relief, until the new spot felt like it, too, was on fire. She gasped and twisted, but the large man pinned her easily with his other hand. Her whimpers, squeals, and begging made no difference.

  He concentrated on one cheek, then the other, then her upper thighs, each side getting a roasting in turn. Then the smacks moved to where her butt met her legs, and there he spanked the worst of all, much longer than the other places. By now she was shrieking and flailing, until she found her kicking legs pinned between his. He captured her arms, pulled them up behind her and held them in the center of her back. It hurt so bad she was certain she wasn’t going to survive it. She pleaded and apologized, and finally went limp and cried.

  The hand stopped. She was breathing fast, and the pain was awful. And what was he doing now? She tensed again as his hand touched her back, but he only stroked the skin up and down until she couldn’t possibly be tense anymore, despite the fire that still danced on her butt.

  And then the hand pulled away, and she sensed his outer shell returning. He picked her up to stand on shaky feet.

  “No more disobedience.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Go get back in bed. You’re still recovering, and you need to sleep.”

  She nodded. “Yes, sir.” She walked the few steps to the cabin and once she’d closed the door her hands reached around to her backside, hissing at the touch. She would be sleeping on her stomach.

  She’d held herself together since the day she’d found out she was leaving Anteros, but something about this spanking had opened a large hole in her defenses. The tears came pouring out. She cried for her lost life, for the pain of the last three years, for the emptiness that seemed to stretch out ahead of her, for the fear of a future where nothing happy waited for her. She was crying because it felt like she’d been crying for years, which made no sense, but it was what it was.

  She folded down onto the floor, rolling to her side when her roasted butt hit the cool metal. And there she lay until there were no more tears, and she drifted into a dream of being held and comforted.

  * * *

  The door to the cabin closed on Keelie, and Siridin stood and stared at it, at a loss for what to do now. For the first time in a long while, he let himself think of Talar, and all the plans they’d made to travel the galaxy together. If his brother were here, they’d probably be playing a raucous game of carribin right now, betting their imaginary fortune back and forth until they no longer remembered who owed what to whom.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. There would be no more games of carribin, ever. He kicked the thought out of his brain and stomped over to his cabin.

  The moment he entered, he had a vision of Keelie on the bed, masturbating, her pink and swollen folds dripping with nectar. It was as though she was begging him to come drink of the juices that would make him forget his problems. But it was addicting, and he had sworn never to do it again, even though it might make the ghosts in his mind go away for a while.

  Ghost. Just one.

  He banged open his closet door to change clothes before he started the salvage. His mind wandered back to the spanking, to the small human under his hands.

  The one who now occupied Talar’s room.

  Why the fuck was all this emotional bullshit coming up now? Talar was gone. One stupid argument with the wrong person, and he was gone. Siridin needed to let him go.

  At first he was puzzled by the muffled noises coming from across the hall. She was crying. But, why? He’d punished her, and it was over. Sure, her ass was going to hurt for a while, but that wasn’t any big deal, and he’d give her some balm later. So what was she crying about? Whatever it was, he wished she’d stop.

  It faded out after a while, replaced by snoring, right on the other side of the door. With a sigh, he crossed the hall and pushed it open. It was blocked. He pushed harder, and stuck his head in. Keelie was curled up on the floor in front of the door, still wearing his absurdly large shirt, with her bright red ass peeking out below the hem. And sound asleep.

  He squeezed his frame through the door and bent over. With care not to put pressure on her bottom, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She looked so small and lonely on the sheets. The ghost in his head agreed.

  “Lights one quarter,” he whispered, and the room lights dimmed. He backed out and closed the door.

  He was tired as well, but he needed to finish the salvage. And then they needed to get the hell out of here.

  Chapter Three

  It took almost eight standard hours to get everything moved. Now he was loaded with food and spare parts, which pleased him greatly. What didn’t please him was the lack of power cells. The blast that had propelled the lifeboat away from the exploding ship seemed to have ruptured many of the cells, and the rest were too badly damaged to remove.

  That was going to be a real problem. While he didn’t have anywhere he had to be, because he was simply running from Anteros to avoid being arrested, he needed to be Not Here. It was too close to the major trade routes, which is why the Crostis were here in the first place. And he was almost out of credits. He and Talar had spent the last few years transporting small cargos from place to place, earning enough to let them stay in space where they’d always wanted to be. But any hope of that ambition was gone, now that he was a wanted man.

  For a moment, he wondered what kind of reward he might get for handing Keelie over to either the Crostis or the Anterrins. It might be big enough to let him start over.

  He tossed the idea overboard. He didn’t approve of the capture and enslavement of human women. The hole in the universe that had opened the rifts between old Earth and Anteros had proved irresistible to the Anterrins, once they’d pulled a few humans through and made them slaves. After the rebellion a couple of decades ago, all the male humans had been killed. But the nectar from aroused human women gave a sense of euphoria to Anterrins, and human women remained in high demand. Big businesses had sprung up around sipping nec
tar, all sanctioned by the current king. There were calls to send the women back, but no one knew how. Then there were calls to close the portals—and those calls went unheeded by those in power. Nectar was addicting, and Anterrins wanted it.

  For now, Siridin needed to get out of here before the Crostis showed up and realized the human hadn’t died. Technically, she was property, and ownership transferred to whoever claimed the salvage, but he doubted those facts would matter. They’d gotten their hands on a human woman, a rare prize, and they would want her back.

  He settled himself into the cockpit with a weary sigh. He had no idea why he chose the course he did, but it was as good as any. The ship jumped, and as soon as it had safely resettled among the new stars, he let himself drift off. He had a brief thought that he should probably lock her cabin door so she couldn’t wander around the ship while he slept, but he faded out before he could move.

  * * *

  Keelie was dreaming a new dream. Not one man, but two, were holding her, stroking her hair, telling her she’d found home. They were big Anterrin men, and she was a small human female cradled between them, completely protected by the bulk of their copper-colored bodies curled around her. She couldn’t see the face of the one behind her, but the one she faced was smiling at her. You will be safe, I promise, because you’ll belong to us. But be patient. There is more ahead before this bond can be cemented. He needs to understand it wasn’t his fault, and he isn’t as alone as he thinks he is.

  She woke with a start. What the hell did she just dream? Her imagination was going into overdrive, her longings becoming her dreams.

  She rolled over and felt the ache of her spanked butt. For some reason, the memory of the spanking made her smile, which was ridiculous considering how much punishment she’d been subject to since arriving on Anteros.

  Then her bladder caught her attention and she forced herself out of the soft bed. She had no idea how long she’d slept, or what time it was. She opened the door of her room and crept out, uncertain where Siridin was, until she glanced up the short hall to the cockpit and saw him slumped in a chair, snoring softly.