by Loki Renard
He is a creature of great authority, but instead of letting the lesser aliens mend me, he tends to me himself in a room which looks like a transit lounge. There is little in the way of decorations, just smooth metal brushed walls and a hard plate floor. It is furnished sparsely, and with no regard for aesthetics.
“Be careful, Karen,” he says, my name warm on his lips. “Reality is so much more dangerous than the simulation you have been inhabiting. You can be seriously injured here and find yourself very much not yourself.”
He relinquishes my now bandaged finger and looks at me, his horns pricked forward with what I think must be interest. We are sitting on a couch, though it is a very large one clearly not made for a person of my proportions. I feel as though I am Gulliver, having voyaged to a world very similar to my own and yet very different.
“What am I going to do with you?” He murmurs the question more to himself than me, though I have some ideas. He can take his alien pants off and show me what alien thickness lies beneath them. He is shirtless, but he evidently felt the need for some modesty on the lower half of his body. I wonder what rough ridges might be hiding beneath the leather-like pants stretched tight over his powerful thighs.
I am not commonly what some people would call thirsty, but I am aroused. I might even be about to make the first move, something I haven’t had the courage to do in decades. My ex made me feel ugly, and I have carried that with me through every male interaction I’ve had since. But Tyank changes the entire paradigm of attraction. If the world I have always lived in is a lie, then maybe the rules that say respectable women don’t sleep with rakish males upon first meeting them is a lie too.
“You say you’re the manager. Prove it. Manage me.”
His eyes flare with my challenge. There is heat between us like I have never felt before, an attraction which demands a meeting of bodies. It intensifies over the following seconds, becoming something too powerful for either one of us to resist.
“You want me to manage you? I’ll manage you,” he growls, reaching for me, and standing me up in front of him between his legs. He is keeping control of me, but allowing me just enough freedom to do exactly what he wants.
I am excited. I have been taken outside my world and because of that I am free to do anything. Be anything. His next command makes me blush, but also increases my excitement even more, sending tingles of naughtiness rushing through me.
“I want to see you, Karen. I want to see your soft, bare body.”
No man has wanted to see me in a very long time. If he has, I've outright rejected him. I've had no time for men. I've had no time for anything besides sitting at home, going to work, and thinking I was doing the right, responsible thing. Now it turns out the universe is run by a clockwork madness in which there can be no right thing.
I feel lost. Afraid. But also, desired. The alien looks at me with the kind of hunger I remember from the brief days of what I believed to be my early twenties. I was young once. Attractive once. My hair was not cut in a short and efficient style, it flowed like a golden river over my back. Everybody smiled at me. I fell in love. I got married. I was lied to. Cheated on. And finally, divorced.
It was a mistake I will never make again. But I figure there is no real danger of falling in proper human love with an alien such as this. So I do as he says.
My sensible clothing falls to the floor. The white blouse I always wear because white is the color you can get to look the cleanest and starchiest, and it shows all flaws, so when you are flawless, others know. My blazer and the stiff skirt I wear to look professional follow. Shoulder pads drop beside them, followed by sensible beige bra and panties, peeled from my breasts and thighs without shame. He is looking at me with too much admiration for me to be shy of my body, which bears all the marks of fourty-five years of existence, all the softness, the stretching, the heavy weight of breasts which once sat much higher. Tyank gazes upon everything I have always sought to hide with an expression of admiration bordering on worship.
“Ah, you see, you are truly a fine woman in every sense of the word,” he says in that deep devilish voice which makes me want to give in to his every whim. This alien is charming me, casting a spell I do not want to be released from. Here, with Tyank, I am safe. I sense that in the very core of me, even as his fiery eyes roam my body with the strange hunger which in turn awakens my own desire.
I’m going to fuck an alien.
I’m going to let a beast from the stars inside me.
He seems to think this will be punishment, but it has been many years since I was ravished by a man, and never by one with the powerful musculature and absolute presence this one has. I will give myself to him. I will let him take me, and I will take just as much from him in return.
I wait for him to stand up and take his pants off, but it turns out that he doesn't need to. He simply flexes and the sharp blades which cover him from head to toe spring out, turning his clothing into instant rags which fall away as the blades retreat, leaving a very thick prominent ridge awaiting me.
His cock is incredible, a thick protrusion of silvery hardness gleaming at the tip with what looks like wet diamond dew. I find myself staring at it, the girth and length much greater than any human man. How will I ever take that inside me?
“Straddle me, human," he growls, reaching for me and drawing me onto his lap. I have never felt this soft and feminine before, totally vulnerable as my thighs spread to allow me to rest against his powerful body. I feel that rough ridge pressing against my lower belly as his massive hands roam my flesh, caressing, squeezing, exploring me. One hand drifts up my back, over my neck, snakes into my hair and takes masterful hold of my blonde locks.
I am held in place and Tyank captures me in a kiss. This is my first alien contact, his tongue snaking into my mouth, playing in an incredibly agile way with my own as his other hand cups my ass, pulls me up against his hard body - and then presses me back down.
My hips thrust forward, searching for that thick alien rod which I know must be buried inside me. He has no idea the need I have been repressing, or how much wildness resides inside my dour exterior.
Tyank
This woman was formal, stiff, cold, but in my arms she comes to fiery life. I worried that I might hurt her when I claimed her, for as much as she is mine to punish, I do not want to do her any real harm. I think she is beautiful. It has been far too long since anyone has matched wits and wills with me the way she does.
I kiss her and she kisses me back, our tongues dueling. She is so much smaller, inherently weaker, but I feel the power inside this woman flare against my own. No wonder my broodkin wanted her out of the simulation. She is pure trouble, inside and out. I caress her body, pinch her nipples lightly and watch her eyes light up and her toes curl, her thighs spreading of their own accord and her hips arching that golden topped mound toward me.
The scent of her desire hangs between us, her wet human need driving me near mad with lust. I wanted to draw this out, make it a matter of domination, but I feel myself pulled to her, my cock thick with desire, the head of my flesh finding the place where her body was made to welcome conquerors.
We let out a mutual moan of relief as I slide her down onto my impaling cock. She is tight. She is so fucking tight it is as though I can feel every part of her, her entire being wrapped around my dick. I look down into her pleasure flushed face and I hold her in place and thrust hard, sliding out and then in again, making her feel my cock all the way to the core of her.
Karen's head tips back, her mouth open in an O as I start to fuck her the way naughty humans who have to be disciplined by their alien masters must be fucked. Long. Hard. Deep. She grunts and whimpers, but every time I draw out to the tip, I feel her inner muscles drawing me back in. She loves this.
“You’ve been a bad girl all along, haven’t you, Karen?” I growl the words, my clawed hand fisting in her hair, her sex glazed eyes barely able to focus on me as she soaks my cock with her ample juices, her breasts
bouncing with every well-deserved thrust.
Karen
What is he doing to me? I feel as though I am both deeper in my body then ever before, and all the way outside it. I am no virgin, but he is making me feel like one. It is as if my body is just now discovering all the peaks and possibility of pleasure which I so long denied myself, thinking my choices mattered, that if I were just good and followed the rules and made sure other people followed them too, then all would be well.
But it’s not well. It’s chaos out there, and now that chaos is shooting through my nervous system, giving me such intense pleasure I can barely contain it. I hold onto him with the desperation of a drowning woman, lifting my hips, spreading my legs even wider. I look down and see where our bodies join, where the big thick rod of his alien cock spears inside me, glistening with my juices.
Is this what I was made for? To be a fuck toy to an alien monster? It feels so right. I am awash in sexual perfection, and then he reaches down and starts toying with my clit, rubbing my juices into that hard little nub, and I explode in a cunt shaking orgasm, my entire body spasming until I feel a near nirvana of relaxation sweeping over me and I am left wrapped around his cock, cradled on his lap, held as if I matter.
“Wow,” I breathe.
“I love you.”
He says the words as if they are a stark revelation. There’s raw truth mixed with utter surprise in his voice. But I am not shocked, for I feel the same emotion coursing through me. Something changed during our mating, something fundamental and important.
He obviously didn't intend to care for me. Now he is in love with me. And I might be in love with him, and where does that leave us? Underneath a made up world, that’s where.
I feel him twitch inside me, reminding me of the connection we have made. His alien liquid is trapped inside, seeping out by slow degrees with every small motion we make.
I told one man I loved him once. I swore I would never do it again, under any circumstances, for any reason. It would be madness to admit such a thing to an alien who has just ravaged me within minutes of meeting me, turned my chaste sex into a hot, wet, puffy mess and filled me with his seed.
I have to be sensible. I have to contain my feelings. I have to…
"I love you too.”
What!? No! Why did I just say that? Because it's the truth? Because there are emotions rushing through me I haven't felt in decades, if ever? I have to get myself under control, but I can't, because this alien who is now kissing the breath out of me all over again is in complete control.
“How can a thing like you and a person like me be together?” I ask the question when he breaks the kiss.
“With some difficulty, if you keep referring to me as a “thing”, he growls, sliding his hand over my flank to cup my rear warningly. “You’re a naughty girl, Karen.”
“I’m not naughty, or a girl. I’m a woman. I’m far too old to be a girl. And I’m many things, but naughty is not among them.”
He smiles, his teeth flashing with that eerie, brutal savagery which is echoed all over his body.
“I didn't think I’d ever meet a human as sharp as I am. Are you sure you're not a matriarch wearing a human suit?”
“I am certain. Well. No. I’m not certain. How can we be certain of anything anymore?”
As orgasm fades and the heat in my loins cools, I give serious consideration to panicking. “How do I even know what I am? What you are? What anything is?” There’s a lurching feeling inside my brain, like seasickness, but its the entirety of reality which is all swirling me around.
“What do you really need to know?” Tyank is calm, still holding me even as I start to internally flail.
“Well, I need to know what’s going to happen to my savings account, because I’ve been putting ten percent of my wages into that every Friday for the last fifteen years, and if you tell me that was just simulated…”
“Ones and zeroes,” he says. “Sorry.”
“I want my money!”
“Oh, money? I can give you all the money you want. What do you want? Dollars? Cents? Galactor Credits?
Money means nothing when it cannot buy anything, and I have not seen any shops here on the underside of the simulated world. I have not seen anything other than the alien who re-arranged my insides and my mind in one torrid session of carnal contact which apparently made me very stupid indeed.
There is so much to think about, try and come to terms with. The immense pleasure I just felt cannot distract me. I have to get a grip on myself. Take control. But it’s not easy, being wrapped in his arms, feeling the last throbs of his alien member inside my juice slaked sex.
I have the strangest feeling of homesickness. I want to go home to my apartment, but I know that it is not real, and that I would never be able to pretend it was. Now that I have experienced alien lovemaking, something has been awoken in me. I will want him again.
A thought strikes me. “Wait. It's just occurred to me. If what you told me is true, then I cannot die!”
“No. You very much can. It’s just in the simulation, you tend not to. There’s machines and things.”
“Machines and things? You sound like a real expert.”
“It’s quantum.”
"Oh, okay. Quantum.” Everybody knows that quantum means science, so I have to accept that explanation.
He lets out a low chuckle and caresses me, the sharp tips of his nails grazing lightly over my skin.
“It’s going to be okay, Karen. You're mine now. You never have to worry about anything again.”
“I’m yours?”
He said he loved me. He never said anything about me being his. I suppose, if I thought about it, it was all somewhat implied. But I didn’t think. I reacted. I spread my thighs and I let him fuck my brains right out of my head.
“I need to keep you. I need to punish you again, and again, and again.”
There’s lust in his voice, not anger. If he thinks what we just did was punishment, then I have no problem signing up for more. But it does leave a question.
“So I’m not going back? You’re not going to reset me?”
“You cannot return to the simulation. I will not allow it. You will live down here, where you will be given what you wish within the limits of possibility. And…" he pauses for a moment. “You will be my assistant.”
“You need an assistant? In what? In being sharp and destroying things?”
“No. In running this place. You like being officious, enforcing rules, drawing outlines, demanding results. These murketeers fear me, but they do not respect me. You will be their manager.”
My jaw drops. “I will be the manager?”
“That’s right. No more speaking to the manager, Karen. Now you are the manager.”
“I am the manager," I say to myself, softly at first.
“I AM the manager," I repeat a little louder.
“I AM THE MANAGER!” I cry out with utter glee.
“But not of me,” Tyank reminds me.
“I AM THE MANAGER!” I repeat at the top of my lungs.
Tyank
I may have made a mistake.
Revenge
Tyank
Karen is settling in well. The first thing she demanded was an office. I gave it to her, of course. Humans are often satisfied with small things, that is one fact I have learned about them in my short time administering the simulation. They like to have little spaces of their own to be territorial about. I see no harm in indulging that tendency if it helps her to become comfortable in my world.
I knock on the door which is now marked “KAREN'S OFFICE” in bold, officious white lettering against black plastic plate. She was very specific as to how that should look, so I know it is considered a talisman of great power.
“Come in!”
Karen is sitting behind a desk, tapping away on a piece of human communication machinery. I was told all the names for these things, but I wasn’t paying attention. When our clutch became guardians of t
he simulation, I was a long way down the hatching order. I never thought I’d be in charge of anything.
She is entirely naked. Once she took those awful clothes off, she never put them back on again. That is my order. I hope it will keep her humble, but even if it doesn’t, it certainly pleases me. I am also keeping to the same standard by remaining naked myself. Fair, after all, is fair.
“One moment,” Karen says, holding up a finger to me, as if her little pink digit could stop a scythkin warrior.
“What is that?”
I point to the wall, where three words have been stenciled in human script.
LIVE
LAUGH
LOVE
“Hmm?” Karen glances up from the keyboard.”
“What are those instructions?”
“They're not instructions,” she says. “They’re decorative…”
I move closer to inspect the orders. Live, well, that seems rather redundant if one is able to read the sign, one is presumably alive. Laugh, well, perhaps, but not without cause. People who go about laughing madly for no reason are monitored for signs of nervous breakdown. And as for Love, do humans really need to be told to love? The entire thing is very puzzling.
“We tried signs, but the humans rebelled,” I say. “HUMANS MUST KNEEL. They were very good, until they weren’t.”
“I remember the signs telling us to kneel. This is more uplifting. Especially the font.”
"Yes, it's very flowy.”
“Precisely.”
“What is the function of it? Are you afraid you will forget to do one or all of the three aforementioned whatsits?”
“It’s nice," she says. “Don’t you know what nice is?”
“Nice is not really my strong suit.”
“I noticed," she says dryly.
"What are you doing?” I change the subject. We can bicker our way into bed soon enough. I want to know what she's been doing with the freedom I have allowed her. The terminal she has gives her limited access to the simulation. I want to see if she can be trusted.
