Without hesitation, Flencik grasped the larger of Breft’s penises and guided it towards Amelia’s face. “Open your mouth,” he encouraged her. “Taste him.”
She smelled Breft’s sex, the same sharp cinnamon aroma she’d scented on Rajhir. The tip touched her mouth. Flencik moved the Nobek’s organ over her lips, caressing. She opened for him, and he slipped his penis into her warmth.
Amelia closed her eyes and ran her tongue over the hot smooth flesh. Breft did taste of cinnamon, all at once spicy and sweet. His pulse pounded beneath the surface of his velvety skin. He pumped his hips, driving his sex deep into her mouth while being careful to not make her gag. His second penis slid under her chin along her throat, leaving a hot, wet trail. He took her orally, his eager strokes matching Rajhir’s.
Flencik turned his attention to her breasts once again. He playfully slapped the heavy mounds between his hands, making them sting. Amelia groaned with the sensation of being completely possessed. Both her hands pleasured the Imdiko’s twin sexes, keeping in time with Rajhir’s and Breft’s thrusts into her accepting body.
The heat in her womb rose, and she heard the three men gasping as well. Breft moaned, and he ground his hips against her face. She realized he teetered on the brink of orgasm. He was poised to spill himself right in her mouth. Her dead mother’s strict teachings made her feel the dirtiness of the act, and she tried to pull away, but Breft’s groin pinned her head against the lounger. She wriggled against him.
“No, Amelia,” Flencik said. “You taste of Breft and swallow the seed of his. Make part of us you. Accept. Do no fight.”
Breft’s gasps grew louder. His hand stimulated his swollen shaft each time it emerged from Amelia’s lips. He really meant to pump his semen into her mouth.
Amelia knew she wanted it. She wanted to know the flavor of this alien male. It was wrong, it was sinful, it was evil, but her body was rioting with desire. Amelia had never known such need.
Climax was building again, promising gratification as she’d never known. The need for release crowded all the arguments out. In an instant, Amelia decided to hell with her deceased mother’s voice in her head. To hell with the laws of Earth forbidding sex outside of the marriage bed, not to mention outside of her species. God only knew how many laws she was breaking now, screwing three aliens at once.
To hell with them all.
I’m a bad girl, Mama. I’m sucking a man’s penis … no, not his penis. I’m sucking his cock. You can’t put me in prison for it either. You can’t beat me, you can’t torture me, and you can’t execute me. I like it, and I’m going to do it.
Knowing Breft’s juices were on the verge of pouring down her throat heightened Amelia’s excitement. Not even lawful marriage allowed such perversion on Earth. The alien worked himself even faster, his gasps becoming growls as he moved closer to climax. Amelia moaned as her own flesh strained towards crescendo.
Rajhir grunted as he pounded himself into Amelia, his pace frantic. The friction of his loins against hers brought her closer to the brink. Her hands pulled up and down on Flencik’s organs just as desperately.
Breft suddenly shouted out. His pulsing flesh erupted and filled Amelia’s mouth with his strong, spicy-sweet-salty fluid. A heavy hand stroked her throat, massaging. She submitted to the domination and swallowed the thick seed pouring down her throat as her own hunger swallowed her.
Her orgasm filled her like a blinding white light. Its heat streamed into her entire body, suspending her in the sweetest of agonies. She convulsed beneath her lovers, wave after wave pounding through her.
Rajhir and Flencik came at the same time. Flencik’s hot fluid spilled onto Amelia’s belly as Rajhir’s organ pulsed into her womb. Again her pleasure crested in response to theirs, another starburst of delight exploding throughout her body. She cried out as another tidal wave shook her. So good. So damn good…
At last her body spent itself, settling into a warm, satisfied glow. Amelia’s strength was gone, and she lay still as her lovers disengaged, pulling their heavy, wonderful bodies from hers. She wanted to thank them, but her eyelids refused to open. She was vaguely aware that the Kalquorians carried her to the basin. She drifted in and out as large, gentle hands bathed her with reverent thoroughness. Amelia floated on their care, care no other man had ever shown her before. It was as if she dreamed the sweetest fantasy she’d ever known. The men spoke to each other in their guttural language softly, as if to keep her from waking. She dozed as warm water sluiced over her utterly exhausted, utterly satisfied body.
Amelia woke briefly as they put her back on the lounger and arranged themselves around her. She forced her eyes open once to see Rajhir smiling down at her. His expression was adoring, which Amelia found amusing as they’d only just met.
“No more misunderstandings,” he said.
She closed her eyes again though she hated to shut out his beautiful face. At least she still had their warmth surrounding her, keeping her safe. Sandwiched between the Kalquorian bodies, Amelia fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 3
Amelia woke to the daylight brightness of the globes and blinked at her surroundings.
Where am I?
She shifted, and the soreness between her legs reminded her of the Kalquorians’ sensual assault the night before. She sat straight up on the lounger, her heart drumming.
The firepit had gone dark, the scentwood burnt out. The waterfall gurgled and the basin bubbled, but she was alone. The Kalquorians were gone.
Amelia hugged herself. Tears of shame pricked her eyes. The things she allowed the three aliens to do to her last night! All the depraved acts she performed! Worst of all, she had enjoyed it. Her body had responded over and over despite the immorality of the situation.
Her mother’s voice spoke in her head: Sex is dirty and sinful.
Amelia could see the only parent she’d ever known in her mind’s eye. Even now, she could remember every detail of her mother’s appearance before the cancer took her. Martha Ryan’s wasted frame was nearly lost in a mountain of sheets and blankets, her sparse gray hair pulled back in a severe bun, and her claw hands gripping a worn bible. Years of pursing her upper lip in disapproval had ridged the skin above it.
“You only have sex after marriage and only to conceive. I will not allow my daughter to be a sinful Jezebel. I’d rather see you dead.” She shook her bible at Amelia as if doing so would cast away her every transgression.
Amelia shook herself from the memory. How many times had she heard that speech, both in person and in her head? How long had she fought to silence that judgmental voice?
“Sex is not dirty,” she whispered to Israla’s guest room. “It’s normal and beautiful as long as it’s not perverted.”
Didn’t sex with three aliens qualify as perversion though? How could she justify her participation in last night’s orgy?
“The wine of course.” Amelia sank back on the lounger with relief. “They probably knew it would drug me and then they took advantage. That’s all. I did nothing wrong. I wasn’t myself.”
Her conscience eased now that her innocence was proven intact. Just as it had been with her previous unlawful liaisons, Amelia was not to blame. Even Martha Ryan’s vengeful God could not find fault, though Earth’s religion-crazed legal system would certainly impose harsh sentences for her unmarried, non-virginal status.
Nevermind she’d been drunk last night. Nevermind her previous two lovers had gained access to her body through coercion, threats, and force. Back on Earth, Amelia was still at fault in the eyes of the law.
Her first time, she’d been fourteen. It had started with a good deed, an innocent knock on her neighbor’s door.
The door swung open to reveal Mr. Perkins, the Ryans’ neighbor of three months. He worked construction as a vocation, but the crumbling economy left him doing odd jobs to make rent. He was home more often than not, and Amelia’s mother had him over for dinner twice a week. “Charity to those less fortunate,” she adm
onished Amelia when the girl dared to venture the observation they didn’t have much themselves. “God knows we can go a little hungry to keep another from starving.”
Mr. Perkins didn’t look like he was starving. He had arms like slabs of deeply tanned beef. His chest was wide, and his beginning beer belly didn’t droop over the waist of his jeans quite yet. Amelia supposed women her mother’s age would find him attractive with his shock of reddish-brown hair, heavy-lidded eyes, and full pouting lips. She even caught herself looking at him surreptitiously when he joined them for dinner, especially at his big, capable hands. When her thoughts strayed to sinful ideas, she did her best to shut them down. She prayed often for God to keep her mind pure.
That fateful day, the day she’d brought him his mail, Mr. Perkins answered his door and blinked at Amelia. “Hey girl.” His voice sounded bored, but as his avid eyes traveled her body from head to toe and back up again, Amelia felt warm all over. “What’s up?”
“The mailman put your mail in our box. I thought I’d save you the trip.” Amelia held out the envelopes, two of which had angry ‘Past Due’ stamps. When creditors sent out actual pieces of paper instead of the usual vid-generated reminders, it usually meant the lights were about to go off and lawsuits were being filed. Apparently, Mr. Perkins was less fortunate after all.
“Put those on the table there.” Mr. Perkins nodded toward the battered coffee table in the middle of the dark living room. He stepped aside to allow her passage.
Amelia wondered why he didn’t just take the mail from her, but obeying adult authority was too deeply ingrained for her to question him. She stepped inside the dim house. Mr. Perkins followed her in and closed the door.
When Amelia came back out fifteen minutes later, her world had changed. She’d tugged her bra and blouse back into place before walking out, so neighbors wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Her calf-length skirt covered her knees, reddened from the den’s rough carpeting. Her face was carefully composed, the tears she’d cried scrubbed away.
She could still feel the hard, splintered surface of the coffee table he’d bent her over beneath her stomach and chest. The smell of garbage filled her nostrils from all the old fast food wrappers her face had been pushed into. And Mr. Perkins’ hairy thighs between hers, his body thudding behind her, and him inside…
Amelia made her almost numb legs walk steadily to her house, which was blessedly empty because Mama was at work. As soon as she got inside, she ran to the bathroom. Thank God there were no questions to answer about why she vomited or why she spent the next hour in the shower, scrubbing her flesh red and raw. No matter how hot she made the water or how she scoured herself, she just couldn’t wash away her shame. Her guilt.
All my fault. I tempted him. My shirt was too thin. I’m too endowed. I made him do it.
Her government and Church were clear on the matter of forced sex. Men did not fall into sin unless women tempted them. This was why any woman who had been raped and found out was sent to the work camps along with her violator. Such sentences were the same as death.
If anyone discovered what Amelia had done with Mr. Perkins, she would be tortured. Branded. Her sex mutilated. In between the beatings and cuttings, she would work hard labor until she died, probably in a matter of weeks.
Never again. I swear to you, God, I’ll never tempt him or any other man again if you keep me safe from the police. Please don’t let me get caught. I’ll never go anywhere near that or any man ever again.
However, the next time Martha Ryan had Mr. Perkins over for dinner, Amelia was in for a surprise.
“I’m not much for keeping up a house,” Mr. Perkins informed the elder female. “I could use someone good at cleaning. P’raps your little girl here would like to make a coupla dollars to come in once a week? I’m sorry I can’t pay more, but you know how my situation is.”
“Amelia would be glad to clean once a week for free.” Martha’s voice was grim, but Amelia knew right away she was pleased with the idea. “She has too much time on her hands during summer holidays, and that invites trouble.”
Amelia listened to this with a sense of unreality and mounting horror. She kept her head down, her eyes on her chipped and scratched plate of gravy-covered mashed potatoes and chicken, praying her mother wouldn’t sense her guilt.
That was how it came that every Wednesday, as soon as her mother left for work, Amelia entered Mr. Perkins’ rental and submitted to his lust. The sex was always rough, and there was not even the pretense of tender feelings from him.
She did try to resist and make good on her promises to God. She wore her most concealing blouses and skirts. She begged Mr. Perkins to not succumb to temptation. However, the threats and the marks he left in places easily hidden by her clothing forced her compliance. In the end, Amelia was too desperately afraid of being arrested and executed to make much of a fuss. Mr. Perkins always got what he wanted from her, and what he wanted she knew damned her very soul.
Hiding the bruises and scrapes from her mother was a constant fear-driven task. Once a month, Amelia begged God’s forgiveness and promised to be good if only her period would show up on time, which it always did. She prescribed her own penances and sought to be the best person possible in all other areas of her life.
The terrible ordeal did have one positive outcome: her answered prayers as far as not getting pregnant convinced Amelia that God did not want her punished for the sins she couldn’t help. She began to see her faith in a new light; that the Almighty was not as vengeful as the government and Church claimed. It was with shock that she discovered that those bastions of authority, along with her mother, were not always right.
Amelia’s purgatory lasted for six months until her tormentor was arrested for raping another girl her age. Both Mr. Perkins and his victim were sentenced to castration, scarification, and hard labor for life. For Mr. Perkins, his life was done in six months. The young girl died seven weeks into her sentence.
Amelia would not commit the sin of fornication for another ten years.
* * * *
Looking around Israla’s guest room, Amelia tried to figure out how to get back to her own apartment while preserving her modesty. The scraps of her gown would cover nothing now. She remembered the sound of Flencik ripping it open to expose her defenseless body. She shivered. In retrospect, it was frightening how easily the behemoth had destroyed a dress that barely existed in the first place.
She looked about the room for something to put on. To her relief, a simple blue sheath lay folded by the vid.
She blinked at the vid. Message Waiting flashed in Plasian characters on the screen. Nervous, she fumbled the dress on and stared at the two ominous words. Her stomach flip-flopped at the thought of seeing one or all the Kalquorians, even on a pre-recorded message.
The message might not be from them. It could be from Israla or, more likely, Osill.
“Play message,” she croaked in a voice barely her own.
Identify.
“Amelia Ryan.”
Rajhir’s face filled the screen, and she dropped onto the nearby chair. Her whole body wanted to melt at the handsome visage. Even pre-recorded, the Dramok’s purple cat’s eyes seemed to drill into her very soul. His soft black hair framed his smiling face, a face she had kissed over and over. She thought of how he had looked the night before, his nude muscled body magnificent as he stood over her. She heard his voice in her mind.
I will take her now.
Amelia’s body flushed with heat, and her sex tickled to life. She clamped her legs together and tried to pretend the mere sight and memory of the man didn’t bring arousal rushing to the fore. Perhaps the effects of the wine she’d drunk last night had yet to fully wear off. She should return to Earth with a case of it to sell on the black market as a marital aid. If leshella made one want to couple with aliens, even hours later, then it was incredibly potent stuff.
Despite his gentle smile, Rajhir seemed grave as he spoke. “We hope your sleep was restful,
Amelia. Our apologies we cannot stay. We want to watch you wake and be lovemaking together more, but our duties we attend.” He sighed ruefully. “Work is continue even off Kalquor. We will locate soon your quarters and visit. Good health, Amelia.”
The vid went dark. Amelia bit her lower lip and burst into disbelieving laughter. “In other words, don’t call us; we’ll call you. I guess our cultures aren’t so dissimilar after all. Apparently ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am,’ is the same on every planet.”
She was flooded by disgust, relief, and – could it be? Yes, disappointment. Now that it was over and she’d never see the men again, Amelia could admit the truth, at least to herself. Right or wrong, sex with the Kalquorians had been incredible. They gave her sensations she’d never imagined existed. They had even insisted that she achieve the same pleasure they sought for themselves. No man had ever troubled himself with her sexual satisfaction before.
Just reliving last night’s events and the way they’d ravished Amelia made her sex throb. Of course, the wine had a lot to do with it, she reminded herself. Under the influence of leshella, she understood why the uninhibited Plasian females desired the Kalquorians so.
The three men had stolen away before she’d wakened, apparently done with their curiosity about Earther women. Amelia didn’t have to worry about them kidnapping her to become a sex slave after all.
They could have done it too. To her embarrassment, she’d given them complete control. The Earther shivered thinking about that. She’d submitted to the Kalquorians in everything after only token resistance.
Three men at once and doing things to her that she’d never imagined! Had that really been her, prim and proper Amelia Ryan, obedient daughter of Martha Ryan?
She wondered what would have happened if she’d wakened this morning to find the clan still with her. What if they had tried to have sex with her again? With her faculties now intact, she’d surely have resisted, of course. Would they have respected her choice?
Alien Embrace Page 5
