Book Read Free

Tamed by the Alien Overlords

Page 7

by Renee Bond


  Why the hell would anyone be turned on by being punished, humiliated… especially by their mortal enemies?

  Was there something wrong with me?

  I pondered that for a time.

  I couldn’t tell how long. The room, with its total isolation from anything that might give me a reference as to my location, or even to what day it was, was subtly disorienting.

  Out of nowhere, a distinctly unpleasant notion hit me.

  I wasn’t being honest with myself.

  Dammit. I hate being honest with myself.

  The truth was… that the Domann species was attractive. Horrendously attractive. It was one of the reasons so many people were able to content themselves with living under Domann rule. Why many women actually sought them out as sex partners, even if they weren’t capable of mating with them.

  And the Domann who had punished me… damn, but he’d been one of the most gorgeous creatures I’d ever seen.

  I don’t know why I thought that. But I did. Something about his face, or maybe it was his supreme confidence, made him… I don’t know. Different. Special.

  Still a bastard. Still my enemy.

  But one I simply couldn’t help but acknowledge as being especially physically attractive.

  It wasn’t just the pain of the spanking that had turned me on.

  It was the fact that it had come from someone who I was so fucking attracted to.

  I curled my fingers into a fist. Slammed that fist against the wall behind me.

  Why couldn’t the Domann be as ugly as their actions? It wasn’t fair that they could subjugate humanity, but still be supremely sexually attractive!

  As I rubbed my stinging hand, I decided that it didn’t matter how sexy my enemies were. It didn’t matter that one had humiliated me down to my bones, to my marrow. It didn’t matter that my pussy was some sort of double agent, playing both sides of this conflict as it saw fit. It didn’t even matter that I had been supremely attracted to the the strong, dominant presence of the very Domann who’d punished me.

  I was a soldier first, and a woman second. If at all.

  Thinking this made me feel better. More in control of myself.

  Then I made the mistake of looking around the room, and realized that I kinda wasn’t in control of myself.

  The bastard Domann were in control of myself.

  Dammit, but I was tired of waiting!

  I almost started screaming. Demanding that they do whatever they were going to do and get it over with already.

  But, at that very second, one of the smooth panels of one of the walls in my cell snicked neatly open.

  Chapter 13

  Karkan

  My my, punishing that insolent, beautiful human woman had been a rare treat.

  I thought it would be. But I was shocked at how strongly I’d reacted to her. To the weight of her supple, nubile body draped over my knee. To how she squirmed and thrashed - at first - unable to get away from me. At the sound of my hand landing on her ass, over and over. At the feel of her perfect bottom against my hand.

  At the smell of her arousal, the slick wetness of it, as she succumbed to my dominance over her.

  It was all I could do to stop the punishment. To give her over into the care of a few of my drones. To keep myself from ripping the rest of her clothes off and taking her right there, on the rough human asphalt, in front of thousands of people.

  I would have lost my commission if I’d done that. Conduct unbecoming a high officer and all.

  Even so, part of me still wished I’d done it.

  These human women… they were unnatural. It was as if their bodies, their faces, their voices, caressed the mind. The soul. It was well known among my kind that a beautiful human woman had a certain power over the Domann male. Some thought that it was our instinctual desire to breed, combined with our knowledge that only human women could provide it. Others thought it was some primal pheromone secreted by the women, which our scientists just hadn’t discovered yet.

  Whatever it was, it had caused more than one Domann soldier to abandon his duties, to run off and hide in some human society or other, choosing to spend their lives with some woman who couldn’t even bear him children.

  That was a sad fact that Domann high command was particularly keen to keep secret.

  After I left the woman, I’d felt… unmanned. Not in control. Not fully. I hadn’t embarrassed myself. But I felt as though I’d come within a razor’s edge of doing so.

  Alongside Lenth and Sandora, I retired to my ship. To the sleeping quarters the three of us shared, there to seek privacy.

  And an ice-cold shower.

  Our personal quarters were, of course, the best accommodations on my ship, as befitting my stature as captain. It was a wide, low-ceilinged yet comfortable space. The ceiling itself was able to project a view from outside the ship. With a mental command, using the tech control nanites in my body, I ordered the ceiling to display the darkening night sky above the ship. Instantly, the ceiling itself seemed to vanish, as did a few of the walls, and it was as if the three of us were in a room with no ceiling at all, one which was floating a thousand feet above the Earth. Stars twinkled above us. An unobstructed view of the night skyline of the city of Atlanta was clearly visible across one side of the room.

  Lenth, of course, wasted no time, once we were in the privacy of our quarters.

  “Damn fine work out there” Lenth said, a deep laughter in his voice and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Any drone could have administered that punishment. But a job that sexy - I mean, important - obviously had to be handled by you personally.”

  “I think I’m going to recommend you for a medal,” said Sandora, adding his dry humor to Lenth’s friendly mockery. “Not every soldier has the courage, the grit, the sheer steel spine, to spank such a shapely butt!”

  I sighed.

  Then I grinned.

  “It was worth every one of your barbs,” I said smugly. Extremely smugly. “So by all means, have your fun.”

  “We intend to!” said Lenth merrily, stripping off the rest of his combat armor. Two pistols and two wicked knives remained on his belt, even with the three of us being in one of the most secure locations on the planet. He was a combat specialist, after all, born and trained to protect his charge’s life at all cost, in any situation. I don’t actually know that I’d ever seen him without his weapons.

  “In fact,” said Sandora, his tone sinking into that special mock-serious he does so well, “we may not be finished with said barbs for a very, very long time.” Sandora was already donning one of the casual lounging li-orta - the garment humans usually referred to as a “kilt.” On his belt remained a plethora of first aid tools and medicines. He was a medical specialist, a combat doctor, and would remain ready to administer life-saving aid at any moment, day or night.

  I was about to offer my rejoinder, but a soft, persistent chime interrupted me.

  Someone had sent a message.

  “Play message,” I ordered, addressing the room itself.

  A hologram sprang to life in the center of the room. An image of the official seal of the Domann sitting council.

  The single highest body of authority in the entire Domann military.

  “Captain Karkan Mezzotha,” said a robotic voice, “and his honor guard, are hereby summoned to appear before the sitting council, effective in all haste.”

  The hologram blinked out.

  The three of us looked at each other.

  “And I’d just gotten comfortable,” Lenth griped as he made for his wardrobe, completely naked, after having stripped off his skin-tight combat undergarment. If I let him, he wouldn’t have worn a stitch of clothing for even one minute in the privacy of our quarters. Hell, if this wasn’t a warship on active duty, I wouldn’t have either. Unclothed, the natural state, was simply the healthiest state one could be in, both for the body and the mind. But, like it or not, we were still at war. With an enemy that spent all its time hiding from us
and which couldn’t possibly hurt us, but still.

  Sandora and I followed his lead, donning our formal Ki-orta. Theirs were simple crimson silk, clingy yet heavy. They wore combat belts, each one bulging with the instruments of war. My own Ki-orta was heavier still, a ceremonial canvas woven with bands of iron, as the war-leaders of our ancestors had worn into battle. I alone carried no weapons - a traditional sign of my faith in my guard.

  Within minutes, we were assembled in the center of our room.

  As one, we closed our eyes and activated our projection nanites.

  When we opened our eyes, it was as if we were in a huge council chamber of soaring marble columns and gilded stone carvings. Surrounding us was an immense table of granite, a perfect, hollow circle, which we stood in the center of. Ahead of us were arrayed a few dozen Domann, each sitting at the table, facing us in a broad semicircle. The sitting council contained some few hundred members, but most of those were extremely high-ranking within the fleet, and had many duties competing for their time. As such, only a handful ever appeared on the sitting council at any one time - those with the availability, as it were. I didn’t recognize any of the faces greeting us today, but I did recognize plenty of the medallions of rank each one wore on a heavy gold chain around their neck. There were two Vice Admirals of the fleet, an Inquisitor, a Secretary of the Commons, two Adjudicators, and no less than three Senior Intelligence officers among them.

  In the center of the formation of rank, sitting directly in front of the three of us, sat the Grand Admiral of the fleet himself, Vanrook Ketoman. The single highest ranking officer in Domann society.

  Though I’d stood before the sitting council before, I’d never before appeared in front of such a distinguished and accomplished collection of Domann elders. Nevertheless, I wasn’t nervous. I felt proud to be there, and eager to begin… whatever it was we were doing here.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re all here,” said Grand Admiral Ketoman.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I can only assume it’s to congratulate us on our recent successful mission,” I offered confidently.

  “No, Captain,” said Ketoman gravely.

  A moment, filled with indecision and second-guessing on my part, passed.

  “We’re here to grant you an official commendation for your recently successful mission!” Ketoman continued. To more than one chuckle on the council. “Not only have you managed to capture several thousand resistance soldiers, but you’ve also captured several key resistance leaders - including the scientist Samantha Strong, and no less than General Ian Adama himself!”

  I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  “That’s great to hear,” I said, giving the grand admiral a cheeky glare. “And may I say, sir, that your timing is as impeccable as ever.”

  “Make sure that remark is recorded in the official transcript of this meeting,” Ketoman said loudly. Outright laughter followed this remark.

  The rest of the meeting went smoothly. We relayed the details of our infiltration and takedown of the human base. A few questions were asked, and answers were given.

  After a time, however, the discussion turned to a more serious matter.

  “Despite our success in ferreting out the various cells of human resistance fighters around the world,” said one of the intelligence officers, “it doesn’t seem as though we are any closer than we ever have been to actually ending the human resistance, once and for all. Would you agree with that assessment, Captain?”

  I frowned, not wanting to give an honest answer, but deciding to do it anyways.

  “In truth… no, I don’t think we are,” I said. “It’s just too easy for enemy fighters to hide in such densely populated metropolitan centers. And it’s just too easy for even a small number of fighters to interfere with our camps, our patrols, our drones, or with society at large. It seems like every time we stamp out a resistance base, two smaller ones spring up a month later.”

  There were general noises of agreement at this.

  “That is why,” the grand admiral said, “we are considering a… show of force. One which will involve the orbital bombardment of the human city of Atlanta.”

  For a moment, I was too shocked to speak.

  Orbital bombardment wasn’t a subtle option. Essentially, high command was considering wiping the city out.

  Murdering every human man, woman and child in it.

  “Atlanta has long been known as a hotbed of resistance,” said another intelligence officer, “as well as an inspiration to resistance groups elsewhere. We have been patient with humanity, ever since we took their planet. Now, we need to make a strong statement-”

  “It’s a terrible idea,” I said - before realizing that interrupting a member of the sitting council probably wasn’t the best career or personal safety move.

  “Go on, Captain,” said Ketoman. “The main reason we summoned you three here today is to hear your opinion on this matter. You deal with the human resistance much more closely than does anyone on this council.”

  I took yet another deep breath. Mainly to give myself time to think.

  Make no mistake about it. I, like every other Domann, considered not only my military duty to bring humanity to heel, but my ethical duty as well. The plain fact was that we Domann are simply a superior race. Smarter. More rational. With a far longer history, and a far superior dedication to effective social engineering and the creation of a society governed by a truly long-lasting harmony.

  It was not only our place to conquer humanity. It was our responsibility.

  All this being said… I had come to learn a little about humanity during my service. Enough to understand what a bad idea this was, in oh so many ways.

  “Humanity,” I said, speaking slowly, choosing my words carefully, “is not a logical species. Their behavior is driven primarily by their emotions - to an almost alarming degree, in many instances. The majority of them will see the destruction of one of their cities not as an awesome show of unstoppable military might… but as an act of evil, of oppression. They will not consider whether such a thing might lead to a more harmonious society in the future. Not even for a second. Worse, many of them may stop caring about how much stronger we are than them. Many of their sub-cultures would embrace a fight against something they view as truly tyrannical, no matter how vanishingly slim their odds of winning. By destroying one of their cities… by murdering so many civilians, many of which are actually complying with our demands… such an act would do more to energize the human resistance than anything we’ve done since we conquered their planet.”

  Heavy murmurs of both agreement and disagreement, in roughly equal measure, answered me.

  “Surely, they can't be so stupid as all that,” said an adjudicator, a noticeably decrepit old man. “And, if they are, they can’t stay that stupid forever. That is the beauty of orbital bombardment. It has broken other species, and it will break these humans!”

  “In centuries, perhaps,” I replied quickly. I could feel my blood beginning to grow warmer, stoked by a course of action that I saw as utter folly. “But we don’t have that long. If they start resisting us en masse, if we lose even part of our access to their women, then our population could easily collapse long before-”

  Grand Admiral Ketoman held up a hand.

  “Thank you for your testimony, Karkan,” he said. “But I do not believe that the Adjudicator was addressing you. An honest mistake on your part, I’m sure. You have made your point. You need not stress it any further.” His tone of voice made it crystal clear that he expected to hear no more from me.

  I bit my tongue. Hard enough that it hurt.

  “This council,” said the Adjudicator indignantly, “is well aware of the state of the population of our species, Captain. More so than are you, I might wager. And our dire need for human mates is precisely why I most strongly urge this course of action! We do not have time to waste pacifying this species human by human. We need to crush them und
er our heel quickly, in order to ensure the survival of our race! Were it up to me, I would not stop at the city of Atlanta. I would pick the ten most resistant cities and wipe them all off the face of the Earth - and repeat this process every week until humanity submits to us completely!”

  Another round of heavy murmurs. Thankfully, significantly fewer than half seemed to agree with this.

  Inwardly, I wasn’t surprised by this kind of talk. The Domann had certainly done the same to other species.

  But I couldn’t help but cringe at the notion of wiping them out by the tens of millions. I’d read the histories of the species that were subjugated by the Domann empire at its zenith. Many of those species needed exactly such extreme measures in order to finally accept Domann rule. But humanity was different. They weren’t inherently violent or cruel, like some species. Nor were they particularly difficult to govern, if allowed to live their lives with a minimal amount of the freedom they cherished to such a baffling degree. In fact, during my time on Earth, I’d witnessed many feats of culture which reflected very highly upon the human spirit, from technology to literature to the visual arts to cuisine to fashion to even their strange but intriguing “organized sportsing.”

  Theirs was a species that would respond far better to reward than to punishment - and most of them deserved no punishment at all.

  Of course, I said none of this. I was a captain. One of the highest ranking officers in all of Domann society. But among the sitting council, my status was quite low.

  The debate continued for a short time before the grand admiral thanked me again for my viewpoint and dismissed me.

  I almost left.

  But something held me back.

  “Let me prove that I can crush the Atlanta resistance,” I said, “before such extreme measures as orbital bombardment are employed. I hereby swear that I will capture every resistance base in the city.”

  Some laughter met my boast.

  But many curious gazes did as well.

  “What makes you think you can do what our intelligence community has failed at for many years?” demanded one intelligence officer.

 

‹ Prev