Alien Captive

by Lee Savino

  When I reach the dining hall, the scene that greets my eyes is unexpected and not entirely welcome.

  My Tribute sits at the center of a group of my warriors, all of them watching as she bites into what looks like a piece of korrun fruit. Immediately her eyes widen with delight at the rich flavor, her entire face lighting up.

  “It tastes exactly like chocolate!” She shoves the rest of the fruit into her mouth, looking almost blissful and humming with a noise that is far too close to the sounds she made in my bed.

  Jealousy rips through me, so hot and fast that my armor actually flickers with the bright orange color, as if it’s been shot through with meteors. Seeing the color, I push down my unruly emotions before the color streaks can catch anyone’s eye. There is no reason for jealousy, just because they can hear her. No one is touching her, they are just watching her.

  Listening to her.

  And they seem as enthralled by her as I am.

  It is only understandable, I tell myself. They are curious. And she is beautiful. Interesting. Exotic. The first of the Tributes. The hope for the future.

  Despite my logic, I can still feel my possessiveness, my jealousy, seething underneath the surface of my forced calm. At least none of it shows on my armor where my warriors can see it. Not that any of them seem to have Bogdan's attitude, but I am the High Commander and I would not display any weakness by choice.

  In control of myself again, I start forward, and the movement catches Arkdhem's eyes. He immediately stands and salutes, thumping his hand against his chest, which causes a chain reaction as the rest of my warriors notice and do the same. My Tribute looks startled at the sudden formality—which is not strictly necessary when in locations like the cafeteria or on the bridge when work is being done. Arkdhem tends to salute when he sees me, regardless of what he's doing, unless it would be dangerous to do so.

  "High Commander," he says. "I did not realize how much time had passed. We were introducing Dawn to more of our cuisine than the Jabol had provided."

  "So I see," I respond, nodding my head. "She seems to be enjoying the korrun fruit."

  My eyes drop to hers and she smiles hesitantly at me. Hopefully. I do not understand what it is she hopes for, but she appears pleased to see me and that pleases me, as well as soothing some of my jealousy.

  "It tastes just like my favorite dessert back home," she says, almost shyly, as though she is wondering whether or not it is appropriate to speak. I am even more pleased that she is obviously already adjusting to the expectations I have set down for her.

  "Then you shall have as much of it as you like," I say, feeling rather magnanimous. "Right now, I'd like to go back to the cabin. If you are still hungered, then we can bring some with us."

  There is no sign of disappointment by the males around us, but I can feel it like a palpable thing. But they have had my Tribute's attention for long enough.

  My Tribute shakes her head. "I am finished, thank you. Master."

  The honorific is tacked on to the end as if she almost forgot, but I will be lenient as she is still learning, and it does not seem deliberate. My warriors begin to disperse as I move to her side and clip the leash to her collar. As soon as I've done so I can feel myself relaxing even further, as though having her physically attached to me in some manner has completed something that was missing within me.

  I am uncomfortably aware that some of Bogdan's accusations may have been closer to the truth than I want to admit.

  Dawn

  Stupid leash. The sound of it clicking into place is heavier than a door slamming shut. The brief illusion of being myself again is gone.

  Worse, there's a part of me that felt joy at seeing Gavrill walking up and that now feels a sense of satisfaction at being leashed by him. I had been happy to see him, although slightly wary since I definitely wasn't being quiet and the blank expression on his face hadn't seemed particularly promising. But he didn't seem angry.

  For some reason I get the sense that he's feeling possessive, maybe even jealous, but I can't imagine where I'm getting that from because I can't read that in his expression or body language at all.

  "Thank you for taking care of my Tribute," he says to Arkdhem. Again, I'm torn into two Dawns—the one that wants to bristle at being dehumanized back to 'Tribute' and the one that is stupid enough to feel special about being called his Tribute.

  He would have called any woman that, I remind myself. If something happened to me, they'd probably just replace me with another woman and then he'd call her his Tribute.

  I'm stupid enough that the thought actually hurts. If Stockholm Syndrome was water, I'd be swimming in the ocean right now.

  "It was my pleasure, High Commander," Arkdhem says, absolutely sincere. I smile at him. I like Arkdhem; he seems like a nice guy—a nice Tsenturion.

  After relieving Arkdhem of his babysitting duties, because that's pretty much what it feels like right now, Gavrill leads me back to his cabin. He's silent the whole way and so am I. Talking with the other Tsenturions hadn't been easy exactly, because they'd all been strangers, but somehow it had been easier than talking to this particular Tsenturion. I hadn't cared what they thought of me except in a very general way.

  As much as I didn't want to admit it, I definitely cared what Gavrill thought of me.

  I was also torn between a sense of relief and peace at being in his presence again and being annoyed as all hell at being on a leash again. I'm also getting tired, and as he leads me into the cabin, I yawn.

  His dark, sharp eyes immediately take in the action. "You require more rest?"

  "Probably," I say, trying to hold back what feels like another yawn coming on. "I think being hungry kind of woke me up before I was finished sleeping. Master."

  The look in his eyes sharpens. I feel my heart rate pick up a little as he steps forward, looming over me slightly. His fingers cup my chin, tilting my head back so he can look me in the eyes.

  "It is your first day, and you are tired, so I will be lenient," he murmurs, his voice gentle but firm. "But you will learn to call me Master, or you will be spanked until you remember."

  "Yes, Master," I say immediately, the honorific coming very easily now when he's looking at me like that and holding me like this. I am suddenly very aware of my body, the cheeks of my bottom tingling in a kind of anticipation despite still being sore from earlier, my nipples hardening, my pussy lips plumping, and my ass clenching around the nanotech plug the training belt created.

  I want to fight the reaction, but how can I fight myself?

  "Good girl," he says, and warmth flushes through me. Dammit, I shouldn't like it so much when he says that. I shouldn't care what he thinks, because my complaisance is supposed to just be an act.

  But I do care. And I do like it.

  Then he's pulling on the leash, drawing me in closer to him using the leash and collar around my neck, as his mouth lowers to mine for a kiss. How I can still be horny after being fucked multiple times, I have no idea, but arousal immediately flares within me, and I can feel myself becoming slick and swollen in the belt.

  He groans against my lips, picking me up and carrying me over to the bed, one arm around my waist, the other holding the back of my neck as I wrap my legs around him for balance. His armor is already flowing back and disappearing into his spine, leaving bare skin behind. He practically rips the flimsy dress I'm wearing off of my body, the training belt immediately receding from my pussy, but not from my ass.

  I moan as it moves inside my rear channel. Not growing, exactly, and not fucking me, but just rippling inside of me and creating an entirely new sensation that is pure pleasure.

  Gavrill

  I truly had meant to let her rest without having her again, but when she called me 'Master' so sweetly, especially after my jealousy had been roused, my cock and seela had immediately come to life. I wanted—needed—to possess her again. To truly master her.

  My Tribute whimpers beneath me as I manipulate the belt's invasion
of her rear entrance, approximating the movements of my cockhead inside of her tight ass. Grasping her wrists, I take them both in one hand and hold them down above her head as I cup one of her ample breasts with the other. The soft flesh is pleasing in my grip and I lower my mouth to her nipple as my cock dips between the lips of her pussy.

  "Oh... oh please..." She moans, arching slightly as I begin to push inside of her. "Too full... please, Gavrill... Master... I'm too full..."

  I should punish her for calling me by my name, but I find I like to hear it on her lips. Immediately I make the decision that as long as she addresses me properly in public, I will not punish her for what she calls me privately, in the throes of passion.

  Ignoring her plea, knowing she can take it, I feel the wet clasp of her heat and the ripples of the belt through the thin lining between her channels as I push deeper. Laving her nipple with my tongue, I gently nip at the tender bud, making her clench around me as I suck it deeper into my mouth. She writhes, her arms pressing upwards against my hand as though she is trying to break free, but to no avail.

  Next time I take her, I will use bindings to secure her to the bed, so I may have my hands free to do what I wish, but right now I am too impatient to be inside of her again. I hold her down with my own weight as I begin to thrust, groaning with pleasure around my mouthful of breast flesh as the muscles of her pussy ripple around me.

  My seela stroke her pussy lips and clit, my body having already learned the way she likes it the best. Being inside of her again gives me a relief that is almost indescribable; the closest I can come to it is saying that it feels like coming home. She strains beneath me, arching, as I pump in and out of her, manipulating the training belt so that it begins to grow and recede inside of her. While it cannot thrust, it is the closest I can come to approximating fucking her ass with it.

  The sensations of it moving alongside my own shaft are incredible. The feel of her beneath me, around me, the scent of her filling my nose... it is everything I want, everything I need, and I become lost in her.

  Dawn

  This time I'm sure I'm really going to die from an overload of sexual pleasure. I am completely dominated by him, totally overwhelmed by what he's doing to me.

  I can't even protest as I sob in growing ecstasy.

  I'm so full, so sensitized. Every single one of my nerve endings has turned into a receptacle for pleasure. The movement in my ass matches his thrusts into my pussy, creating perverse and satisfying sensations that drives my rapture higher. My clit is begging for mercy even as it swells under the attentions of his seela. Thankfully, whatever soreness I had felt when I first woke up had dissipated while I'd been eating, and my body is ready to receive him again.

  Even if it hadn't been, I'm not sure he'd be able to stop.

  His thrusts are relentless, his hands and lips possessive, as if he's drinking me in, as if he can't get enough of me. I know how it feels, because I feel the same. My legs spread wider, my hips tilting up to receive his thrusts, my body greedy to feel him as deep inside of me as I can, to be even fuller although I already feel as though I'm about to burst.

  When the belt begins to vibrate inside of me, I scream as sheer erotic ecstasy rips through me, untamed and unyielding even as it overloads my entire nervous system. The waves of rapture sweep over me, curling my toes, my legs, and arching my back against Gavrill's rough thrusts, each one sending me higher and higher on planes of pleasure. The vibrations shake the very core of my existence and my entire universe narrows to just the two of us.

  There's a moment where I can feel his pleasure, his need, his loneliness and his possessive joy at having me...

  My climax hits another intense wave and I feel his body latch onto mine, his tentacles sucking at my pussy lips as he swells inside of me, throbbing as his seed spills into me. I’m blinded by the white-hot ecstasy, the sensation of being one with him in every way, and even as I writhe in orgasmic euphoria the dark of unconsciousness begins to drag me under, saving me from the intensity of the physical and emotional frenzy I’m experiencing.

  Gavrill

  I am wrapped around my Tribute, her exhausted body tucked against mine, when my com beeps. I have been awake for a while but loathe to move when I am so comfortable with her warm, soft body cuddled so close. Tsenturions seems to require less sleep than humans—or perhaps I am just more used to large amounts of vigorous physical activity.

  The message is from Medik, who wishes to speak with me about my Tribute and the Tribute program in general. I am not opposed. Back on Tsentur, warriors transitioning to their civilian phase of life would often have a mentor to help them through the process. Although I am not transitioning, and my Tribute is not a Tsenturion bride, I do have a few questions for a male who has been mated before. I would also like him to examine her and reassure myself that her exhaustion is normal, and she remains healthy.

  As I am composing my own message back, another one arrives.

  Bogdan, with the same desire as Medik. Although, I doubt his thoughts on the program align with Medik's.

  I respond to both of them—we will dine all together before my next shift. It will be interesting to see Medik and Bogdan's opposing arguments, and I will be able to stay well out of it while sifting through their points and thinking through their merits without having to take either side. When we have the time to plan our military excursions I have found such tactics to be a useful tool in making my decisions.

  Fortunately, there are several hours before I need to meet with them.

  Laying here with my Tribute is not the most productive use of my time, but my motivation to do anything else is very low. I cannot think of anything else that requires my attention. There is no shame or wrong in focusing on her during these moments when I am not on duty. Perhaps doing so will aid in focusing on my mission when I am on the bridge.

  Once I am used to having a Tribute, she will no longer be so distracting.

  8

  Dawn

  “For our next meal, we dine with company. I trust you will behave.”

  As he instructs me, Gavrill runs his large hands over my naked body. I can’t keep from shivering with pleasure at his touch. The trainer hums between my legs and I moan. I can’t believe I’m still horny.

  I should be sore. Chafing even.

  But instead he woke me up with soft caresses and the belt vibrating against my clit and inside me, and I’m squirming on my back. I also woke up with my hands bound to the headboard of the bed, leaving me completely vulnerable to whatever he wants to do. Apparently, what he wants to do is torment me by touching every part of my body but not actually bringing me to satisfaction. The fact that his armor is on, concealing his bare skin, makes me wonder if he’s going to fuck me or just drive me mad with need.

  “Yes, Master,” I answer dutifully. I struggle to think rationally as Gavrill’s hands continue to roam. I force myself to focus. “Who will join us?”

  “My second, Bogdan, for one.”

  Great. The glowering warrior from the bridge. Sounds like fun.

  Gavrill must have picked up on my dismay for he adds smoothly, “Do not worry, Dawn. Obey me, and I won’t let any warrior speak against you.”

  “Thank you, Master. I will be good,” I whisper, a very Tribute-like answer. There’s a part of me that is insisting I’m just playing the part I need to in order to survive—preferably survive without more spankings—but deep down I know that I also don’t want to jeopardize his standing with his men, and I want him to be proud of me, as Stockholm-Syndrome-y as that sounds.

  “If you are then you will be rewarded,” he says smoothly, his hands sliding over my stomach. My muscles quiver beneath his palm, making me whimper. It doesn’t tickle exactly, but it’s close. “Bogdan may try to antagonize you. It is his nature. Follow protocol and even he won’t be able to speak against you.”

  "Follow protocol.” I sigh. For all my determination to play the good little Tribute, even I know I haven’t been great at th
at. Tsenturion protocol, as explained by Frllil, is ridiculously strict. My understanding is that it’s not meant to be followed all the time, but apparently in my case… “In other words, be quiet and obedient like a good little trophy wife.”

  His big hands pause. “What is a trophy wife?”

  “Similar to a Tribute,” I say quickly, not wanting to explain in any detail. They are close enough after all, but as Gavrill and the others seem to revere the idea of Tributes—even if I’m being treated more like a pet than a human being—I don’t want him to think I’m disparaging Tributes. I doubt that would go over well.

  Accepting my explanation, his hands begin to move again, stroking the sides of my breasts as he explains.

  “During our meal you will be required to be obedient, yes. Silent, no. Our second guest wishes to engage you in conversation. Medik is the most well versed among us when it comes to mating and bonding. He had a family and a mate before the Great Attack. On his advice, I instructed the Jabol to search the universe for suitable brides.”

  So I have the doctor to thank for my abduction.

  Despite the arousal humming through my body, my anger stirs.

  Gavrill places a finger at my lips as if to wipe away my frown. “You will treat him with respect. Medik is my oldest and closest friend, as well as a mentor."

  “Is Medik his real name?” I ask. “My translator makes it sound like ‘doctor’ and it seems like that’s the position he fills for you…”

  “He is our physician and his name is his title. We all called him that while he was on duty, and his true name was lost with our world. He does not wish to be called by it.” His eyes unfocus, as if he’s thinking hard about something. “I do not even remember what it was.”