Kel D'Rek; His To Claim

by Theodora Taylor

  “Not always,” I answer. “Sex isn’t supposed to hurt. It doesn’t hurt with human males. That’s why they encourage us to have sex before the Breeding Ceremony. So we know that it won’t always be like that.”

  His diamond gaze falls on me, black and heavy. “But you did not give your body to any other male before me.”

  I shake my head. “No, I didn’t,” unsure of how to explain saving yourself for love to someone who hadn’t ever even heard of the concept until a few minutes ago. Besides, it was a stupid dream anyway. The result of too much time spent in the colony viewing room with Zinnia, watching entertainments about old planet humans whose lives looked nothing like mine.

  We both go quiet, for what feels like a very long time. Then he says, “You have given me permission, so now you will ready yourself to receive me on your hands and knees.”

  Okay, guess that conversation’s done then. I go to the mats and stiffly get on my hands and knees. It feels like I’ve come full circle, from where I was yesterday.

  I can sense him, taking off his clothes…and getting into position directly behind me. I tense. But then he says, “You will leak your juices onto my cock. I believe this will make my entry into your breeding hole easier. But you will tell me if I hurt you, so that I can stop.”

  I relax a little, surprised. By both the offer and the plan. “Oh…Okay.”

  I wait for him to stick it in me. But then he lets out a sudden hiss. “Your breeding slit offers me too much invitation. I must taste it again before breeding you.”

  That’s all the warning I get, before his mouth is on me again. His tongue doing that all out plunge and swirl thing until I’m quivering and contracting around his lips.

  He pulls out roughly, with another hissing sound. “No, k’vani, I must not be distracted by your intoxicating taste. You will take my cock in your slit now and remember my instructions.”

  Before I can protest another climax cut short, the head of his cock is at the back entrance of my pussy, large and blunt. I hold my breath as he starts slowly pushing in. Oh moons, it’s huge. The head alone stretches me to what feels like my breaking point.

  But I don’t break and to my great surprise…it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. There’s an insane amount of pressure, but my body seems to have some primal knowledge I don’t, because my legs instinctively spread wider to accommodate his girth, seemingly of their own accord.

  The head pushes in and then comes his shaft. Oh moons, oh moons…how could I have forgotten about the circular ridges lining his dick? I can feel every single ridge distinctly. Intense bursts of pleasure ripple through my vaginal walls as he slowly pushes in.

  I fall to my forearms with a helpless moan and he stops.

  “You will tell me if I am hurting you.”

  “No…no, it doesn’t hurt,” I gasp out. “You’re so big. I just feel really full.”

  “Yes, I am big, and you cannot imagine what the sight of me entering into your small breeding slit does to me.” A pause. Then he hisses, “You are leaking more juices.”

  Yes, yes, I am. I can feel the arousal pouring out of me, slickening his way until his huge alien cock is all the way inside of me to the hilt.

  “You are wrapped so tight around my dick, k’vani. I can feel your cream on my sensitive ridges. Smell you…so hot and sweet. I fear I might not get in two strokes before spilling inside of you—you will tell me what you are doing with your hand.”

  Funny, I didn’t even realize I’d reached up there while he’d been talking, until he commands me to tell him why my hand is rubbing at my pussy.

  “It’s…it’s something human females do. They touch themselves to make themselves come when no one else is around.”

  “But I am around, k’vani. You will not do this while I am breeding you. I will be the only one who gives you this pleasure.”

  With that declaration, he knocks my hand away, and raises me up, so that I’m nearly sitting on his dick as he pistons into me from underneath. Oh moons, the sensation is unbelievable, and after a few strokes, I feel the pad of one large finger press directly into my throbbing clit.

  I do cry out in agony, then. Not because of his overlarge dick. But because of the climax that suddenly slices through me, so acute, it feels like I’m on a razor’s edge of pleasure and pain.

  He hisses, his hand falling away from my clit. “Ah, the way your breeding slit contracts around my cock. It is even better than I imagined. By the stars, you are sensitive to my every touch. I will explore this button of yours much until you are bred, k’vani.”

  He says this while continuing to fuck into me with his ridged cock. It doesn’t hurt…it doesn’t hurt…in fact it feels so good, to have his ridges move in and out of me…so deep…so deep. I start rolling my hips to take him even deeper.

  “Oh, my little k’vani. Xalthurian females simply kneel, but I knew you would move like this for me, that your breeding slit would grip me like this while meeting my every stroke.”

  He takes my breasts in each large blue palm, kneading them as he tells me, “You are better…this is better than I ever could have imagined. You will keep fucking your Kel. Fuck your Kel until he fills you with his seed.”

  Something primal washes over the both of us as we fall into another frenzy of fucking until he finally releases a deep wash inside of me. Filling my pussy up with his hot seed.

  His cum…it has a slightly sweet smell. Like the amazing bread Zinnia makes when the wheat crop comes in. And there’s so much of it. A third climax tides over me, as Kel D’Rek continues to stream into my pussy, filling it up until his seed is dripping down my thighs.

  We fuck and fuck, screaming and hissing, until finally he lifts me off him. “K’vani…k’vani…I am spent. Completely spent. You have received all of me.”

  I fall forward in bed, feeling like that gelatinous substance we ran out of a few years ago. What had my parents called it? Oh yes…Jell-O. I feel like Jell-O as I flop down onto the bed, too weak to even bother covering myself up.

  But what are all those blue droplets clinging to the high inside of my inner thighs? I reach down and collect some of the liquid on my fingers, sniff it…and oh moons, it smells just like the scent from before. My thighs are now sticky with Kel D’Rek’s blue semen.

  I truly did just get hardcore fucked by an alien. And it didn’t hurt. In fact, I can’t ever recall anything I’ve ever eaten, experienced, or dreamt feeling that good.

  That should upset me, I realize in the vague recesses of my mind. I should be bothered that the alien who kidnapped me just turned my body all the way out.

  But I don’t care. Can’t care.

  I fall asleep. My body is too weak to stay conscious. But my pussy throbs, already yearning to do it again.

  11

  D’Rek

  I lie awake, hard and ready to fuck my k’vani once more even though my diijo was deep inside her sweet hot not even an hour ago. Her soft body is pressed into mine, a position she naturally gravitates into while at rest, even when we fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed. And the sounds of her light snoring bear testament to the exhaustion she must feel from our constant erotic activities.

  When I first laid eyes on Ki’Ra, I knew she would be trouble. What I did not know was that she would fast become my obsession.

  Even now her scent overwhelms me, so intoxicating, I find it difficult to think straight. And her taste…it has quickly become my third favorite thing. Licking and fucking Ki’Ra’s sweet hot with my tongue is now my second favorite thing. My first…. Driving my cock so deep inside her breeding slit it feels as if our bodies might merge into one.

  I have lost count of the number of times we have completed the breeding act, yet I still cannot get enough of her. And that, I’m beginning to realize, is a problem.

  When I brought Ki’Ra to my palace, my original intention was to breed her and send her back to New Terrhan. But one week after making our breeding treaty, I still have not tired of
tasting her, mounting her, fucking into her sweet hot as she screams with pleasure, and encourages me with dirty words I can barely imagine falling from a Xalthurian female’s mouth.

  I like her dirty words. Her enthusiasm for the breeding act. The never-ending cycle we create when she slickens my diijo with her juices and makes it so I must taste her again…which leads to me wanting to be inside her again.

  That all-consuming need has become a constant. And it does not seem as if it will wane anytime soon. We have not left my chamber in days. Our food is brought to us and all my urgent business is handled through the holo-system.

  Speaking of which…it has been an entire day and a night since I last attended to Keldom business. This is not good conduct for a Kel who is already under much scrutiny for his unorthodox decision to bring a hu’man home to breed. I think of the council agitation my prime minister warned me of…yes, I should attend to my Keldom’s business.

  To prevent myself from waking my k’vani from her much-needed sleep, I reluctantly ease my body away from her and roll off my sleeping mat. A soft moan escapes her lips, as if she protests the absence of my body, and she rolls in my direction, causing the covers to fall and reveal her glorious breasts.

  Essh…the ridges on both my nose and diijo stiffen as I recall discovering how much it pleases Ki’Ra when I lick and suck her large mammary glands. But I cannot let myself get distracted….

  It takes everything within my being not to rejoin her, and after a visit to the facilities, I finally arrive in the small office off the receiving room, where I work when I do not wish to be disturbed.

  Determined to get my work done as quickly as possible, I pull up a holoscreen, containing my missed messages. After answering only the most important of those missives, I scroll through my newsfeed, to see if anything has happened on Xalthuria that may require my attention. Nothing pressing but there is yet another speculative story that those in the upper echelons and warriors, might soon be allowed to bring hu’mans back to the planet to breed.

  With a hiss, I swipe a hand and click a command to call T’Kan. It takes him several moments to answer, and when he does, I see he is once again outside his second home on the other side of the planet. A humble log cabin he built himself a few solars ago.

  “You are still at your cabin, T’Kan. I would have thought you would return to the city by now.” Usually he only visits the cabin during the rith’un hunting season, which is still quite a few full moons away. And even then, he only goes for a day or two.

  “I can return immediately if you have need of me, my Kel,” he says, raising a respectful hand to his ridges.

  This reply does not truly answer my question, but I’m deeply aware of Ki’Ra in the next room, her breeding slit only a request away from being filled by my aching diijo. I press on to the reason I have called. “You will tell me if any of the warriors or soldiers who came back with us from New Terrhan have been spreading rumors that I will now allow for them to take hu’man females off New Terrhan for breeding.”

  “Not that I know of,” T’Kan answers. “However, my uncle mentioned such rumors and asked if it were true the last time we shared a meal with A’Ry.”

  “You will tell me how you answered him.”

  “I told him as I have told you, though I train with my warriors every day, I have heard no such rumors among my ranks.”

  His answer brings up several more questions, including why he seems to be commuting halfway around the planet from his hunting house to oversee warrior training on the palace grounds.

  But before I can ask him about this, he says, “Speaking of the Xalthurian forces, my Kel, I have some thoughts on which soldiers you should choose to accompany us on your upcoming trip to meet with the Kaidorians.”

  This is a polite formality. Yes, as Kel, I have the ultimate say in every decision T’Kan makes, but I trust my general, and quickly approve the five other names on his list.

  Soon after, we say our good-byes, but even more questions furrow my ridges as I call up a new screen, containing all the reports on the hu’mans on New Terrhan, which I recently told my prime minister to send over.

  As I read through them, I try to reconcile what I know about them versus what these files contain and what Ki’Ra has told me. The hu’mans originated from a planet in a yet to be mapped system. This original civilization had possessed technology. Not nearly as advanced as our own, but enough to get them off-planet and to craft colony ships, so that they might create settlements in other systems. This had become necessary because of an issue previously unheard of by our own race: overpopulation due to their hu’man females’ ability to bear more than two children per lifetime.

  Ki’Ra’s colony ship, however, did not reach its destination as it was thrown off course by a neutron star and crash landed on what they had now dubbed New Terrhan.

  The surviving hu’mans of that crash had fashioned houses from their new planet’s plentiful red clay. And they made makeshift tools from the iron they mined. However, quite a few of the seeds they had brought with them to make food would not grow in the red clay. They were barely surviving when a roving camera drone picked up their presence about a solar after their crash landing.

  If not for the New Terrhan accord and the corresponding Xalthurian shipment of goods, the colonists probably would have died of starvation within another solar. An accounting of all the Xalthurian foods that the hu’mans could not tolerate well follows this assessment. And then…

  My ridges furrow, as an end of scroll alert tells me this is the conclusion of the report.

  Is this really all we have on the New Terrhan settlement? Why are there no updates? Or even an accounting of the shipments other than a report that they had been made? Swiping furiously, I perform a search of our treasury records. Yes, the New Terrhan budget has increased every year. But only slightly. Was that increase in line with the population growth?

  I swipe in another comm screen, this time with a command to call N’Ure.

  He answers much more quickly than T’Kan, with his hands already placed on his ridges. Though it’s late at night, thanks to the light from the three moons, I can see he was enjoying a glass of berry wine on one of the balconies of his palatial estate—the home T’Kan seems to have eschewed for his humble cabin in the woods, but that is discussion for another day.

  “My Kel, how may I be of service to you?” N’Ure asks with a bow of his head.

  “I have read through the files you provided me on the hu’mans of New Terrhan.”

  “I hope everything is to your satisfaction, my Kel.”

  “It is not. This is why I am contacting you at such a late hour. There is nothing of substance in these reports, only superficial information. I wish to know more about this colony and their life on their home planet. I also would like to confirm that the amount of supplies provided to the hu’mans every solar has been adjusted for their population growth.”

  P’rm N’Ure’s ridges quiver up and down. I can see that he is flustered by my demands. “My Kel, I have handled everything to the specification of the accord. I can assure you that the hu’mans are receiving sufficient supplies. If they were a smarter race, capable of little more than breeding well, perhaps they would be able to manage their supplies better.”

  A week ago his insult against the hu’mans would not have caused me any ire. But I think of what Ki’Ra said about only being rationed one meal a day last solar. An image of her parents comes back to me as well. They were so thin with hollowed out cheeks. Had my Ki’Ra looked the same a year ago? The thought of her starving sends a surge of fury up my ridges.

  “From now on the hu’mans of New Terrhan will receive two shipments a solar. One every seven moon cycles.”

  “But what if they squander the second shipment, too?” N’Ure asks.

  “You would question your Kel,” I reply.

  “No, of course not,” he answers with a quick touch of his ridges. “Please pardon me, my Kel. And I only ask this next
question, with a mind toward our own declining birth rate. Does this decision to send them two shipments mean we can now expect two Breeding Ceremonies? If so, it would be an announcement met with much cheer from your supporters on the council.”

  No, we haven’t been granted another Breeding Ceremony, I answer silently. The second shipment is merely a provision of the Ki’Ra-Kel D’Rek treaty.

  Since appearing insane is not on my list of things to do this morning, I turn the subject back to the New Terrhan supply issue. “I notice you have not written any of these reports yourself. Yet you claim the New Terrhans are squandering our provisions and have advised me to ratify our accord.”

  Again, N’Ure appears flustered. “Well, my subordinates—”

  “I care not of your subordinates. You will tell me why you would not take it upon yourself to personally observe how the supplies are being handled.”

  “Well…as you know, I was very busy with the war—”

  “The war, which ended nearly a solar ago.”

  He opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand before he can speak. “I do not wish to hear your excuses, N’Ure. I expect a more thorough report on the hu’mans of New Terrhan within three weeks of returning from the Kaidorian Peace Negotiations. And I expect you to oversee this report yourself.”

  “Of course, my Kel. I will do this, exactly as commanded.” He gives me another respectful bow. Then he raises his head and asks, “Perhaps we could discuss your expectations for this report over last meal tomorrow evening? A’Ry could join us for a glass of berry wine afterwards.”

  A soft moan coming from my sleeping chambers distracts me. Ki’Ra must be waking.

  “My apologies, I already have plans for tomorrow eve,” I answer N’Ure. “I trust that you understand my expectations. There is no need for further discussion.”

  I end the communication without waiting for the prime minister’s response. Already my diijo is hard as steel. The need to once again sheath myself in Ki’Ra’s sweet hot consumes my mind, not allowing for any other thoughts, much less courtesy.