His Human Pet

by Stella Rising

  “How did you know he’d be here?” I ask, my heart racing.

  “It’s where I’d be.”

  Of course. “What are you going to do?”

  “We’ll talk.”

  He tugs on my hand again, forcing me to follow him across the club. Joking to myself, I will my nanites to filter out the music so I can hear myself think, but it actually works, cutting the noise down to almost nothing.

  Neat! Maybe nanites aren’t so bad after all.

  “Kaizel!” Forta grunts when we get close, commanding the attention of everyone nearby. “You go too far. You had no right. Apologize.”

  The gray-skinned alien turns around slowly, his face already twisted in a scowl. “I don’t believe this. Forta’s defending a human. What terrible machination has twisted the galaxy away from its great order?”

  “This isn’t funny,” Forta seethes. “You dishonor us all. Now apologize.”

  Kaizel snorts. “I won’t, not with your pet present. How could you bring her here? We voted against Earth’s invasion for a reason. So did you, Forta. Remember?”

  Forta might be an immortal alien, as close to a god as anything I’ve ever met in the flesh—but apparently he’s still just a man. Maybe because I’m a human, I’m the only one not surprised when his fist flies out, driving right into Kaizel’s smug face. The gray alien staggers back, shaking the bar with a thud. Anyone who wasn’t curiously monitoring the exchange turns to watch now, all looking thoroughly stunned. Seeing them, I can’t help cracking a grin.

  Kaizel wipes the blood dripping from his busted nose. He stares death at us both, grimacing.

  “Forta, take your human and go,” says another Dominar, prompting nods from the rest.

  “Happily,” he replies, taking my wrist—not cruelly—and leading me out.

  “Don’t Dominars have bar brawls?” I ask, unable to resist. It may be wrong, but seeing that asshole get punched erased all of the day’s aches and sorrow.

  “No,” Forta snaps. He’s angry, but I don’t think much of it is directed at me. However, after we leave the building he does smirk. “Melody, I think Earth is rubbing off on me.”

  Chapter Ten

  Forta calls his ship to pick us up, and in minutes we’re in the air. He takes us back to the spot not far off where we first landed on Dokkedex, in the ravine.

  “Pick a cave,” he says, pointing to the dark entrances lining the cliff walls.

  “What?”

  He grins. “Time for Dokkedex to rub off on you. Now pick one.”

  I’d ask if he’s serious, but he’s always serious, even when he’s joking. How am I supposed to choose a cave? And what is it even for?

  “I don’t know what...”

  “Don’t worry. Just pick.”

  I look around, trying to suss out any possible way of determining which one is better than any other. Is he expecting me to go for a big one? Can I choose one higher in the cliff, or should it be one on the ground here?

  Oh, screw it.

  “That one,” I say, pointing at a narrow opening in the wall, just barely visible.

  “Good choice,” he says, gesturing for me to start walking.

  Is he messing with me? “It is?”

  “Small entrance means less wind getting in. Not as cold.”

  I smile, figuring where his mind’s at. “Are we going to...”

  “Spend the night,” he finishes. Holding out his hand, a ball of light appears above his palm. Floating in the air, it flies ahead of us, lighting our path.

  Though this is a cave, I see ledges carved into the walls, almost as if they’re intended for something to inhabit. Is this some sort of Discovery Channel-type scenario? Is Forta looking to get back to nature, in a manner of speaking, or are we going to roleplay a little? Prehistoric space alien and his captive, lost Earth girl?

  Could be fun...

  A crate of supplies floats in behind us, and I can’t help thinking of it as an intergalactic picnic basket. Sure enough, Forta pulls out several blankets, a half dozen drinks and some boxes of food. I’ve been so swept up in the day’s roller coaster of emotions, I forgot I haven’t eaten. On cue, my stomach rumbles—especially in anticipation of whatever amazing foods Forta has chosen for us.

  After setting out a blanket to sit on, he hands me a box and a drink. “Eat, pet.”

  Sitting down gingerly, thanks to the plug, I groan a little, but I put the sensation out of my head—I’m too hungry. Opening the box, I find a platter of cubed cheeses and sticks of meat. I try a piece of cheese, letting it melt on my tongue and savoring the exotic taste. Whatever animal this came from, it’s delicious—creamy, with a flavor that reminds me of cumin and sage.

  “Good?” Forta asks, draping a blanket over me. It’s soft and warm—self-heating, I suppose. I could probably fall asleep in seconds if I lay down.

  “Oh, yeah,” I reply, trying one of the meats. Chewy and spicy, I munch on it with a groan.

  Forta eats a little of his own meal, then leans back against the cave wall. “When my species was young, we all lived in caves like this. We dug them out as a family and often lived in them for generations. Building a home and surviving in it was a mark of honor. Sometimes cowards would slaughter a family and steal their cave, rather than dig one. We have a swear, hragrar, that translates to ‘cave thief.’”

  I nod, listening to Forta’s story, imagining who might have lived in this cave, thousands and thousands of years ago.

  He gets up, kissing my forehead through the blanket. He leaves for a while, and when he comes back he’s gathered a load of dried vines from outside. Dropping them near the pit, he sits down next to me.

  “Warm?” he asks, noticing me clutching my blanket close.

  “Yes, Master,” I say, smiling. I could be warmer, especially when a lick of wind manages to whisper into the cave, but the blanket helps a lot. I’ve never been a big fan of camping on Earth, but this I don’t mind one bit.

  Forta sits back down and reaches around, finding a few rocks; he sorts through them, ignoring the large, round stones in favor of one that’s sharp and flat.

  “In those days, you defended your cave,” he continues, scraping the rock against the floor. “We never forgot our roots. Independence is in our blood. Even in early Dokke society, we rarely asked one another for help. We believe in self-sufficiency.”

  As I take a drink—the bottle contains a dark, dry wine that pairs perfectly with the meat and cheese—Forta grabs a vine and starts pulling it apart in strips.

  “The Dokke joined the Dominar Empire because we are peaceful, but our beliefs never totally aligned with the Dominars.”

  “The Naturalist faction,” I say.

  “Correct.” Forta uses the strips of vine to tie the rock to the end of another thick, long vine. When he’s done, he swings it in the air a few times. It might be a primitive weapon, but I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that thing.

  “What Kaizel said was wrong,” Forta says at last, taking a seat and setting down his new spear. “Humans aren’t perfect, but they’re not animals. They needed guidance, so we invaded.”

  “Thank you,” I say, reaching for his rough hand. “I know that’s not how you view humanity...” I continue, remembering what Kaizel said. “But you voted against the invasion?” I’d like to believe Kaizel lied about that, but considering it triggered Forta’s outburst...

  “It’s true,” he admits. “I did. So did most Naturalists. But I’m glad we were outvoted. In hindsight, we were wrong.”

  I laugh, dropping my jaw in mock astonishment. “A Dominar made a mistake? Is that possible? I thought they knew everything!”

  Forta takes my chin into his hand and cups my face in his grip. “Watch yourself, pet,” he growls. “I’m glad we were outvoted because then I wouldn’t have met you,” he explains, speaking faster than I’ve ever heard him go, like he’s pulling off a bandage. “I’m starting to like you.”

  “Thanks, Forta,” I say, esche
wing his preferred title. “I’m glad, really. But I’m still not thrilled you left me alone like that and...” I wait for him to get mad, but he stays quiet, listening. “And I’m mad that you would have condemned humanity to extinction, if you’d gotten your way.”

  He sighs. “That’s fair.”

  Icy winds rush through the ravine, kicking up a banshee’s howl outside the cave. I flinch from the sound, shivering as the stiff breeze siphons away the warmth of my blanket.

  “You’re cold,” Forta observes.

  “I’m fine,” I insist, trying to wrap myself more snugly.

  “Come on,” he says, pulling away my blanket. “We’ll share heat.”

  I gasp at the momentary exposure, but sigh as he cups me with his towering frame. He’s not cold at all—his body is like a furnace, and in seconds I’m more than comfortable.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. He’s so tall and broad that I can easily lie on top of him, feeling every inch of his muscular frame against me. His chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm, like a boat on gentle seas. As he strokes my hair, I sigh, ignoring the mild discomfort in my ass. “Can I take this plug out now?”

  Forta chuckles, his cock stiffening beneath me.

  “Wait. Did you forget about it?” I snap.

  “No,” he replies quickly. “I hadn’t, but I wanted to... do something... before taking it out.”

  Despite my general displeasure with Forta at the moment, my pussy throbs. I know I’m going to be curious about what ‘do something’ means until he tells me.

  And if he tells me and it sounds like fun...

  “I’m still mad at you,” I say, trying to cement my resistance.

  “I understand,” Forta replies, taking off his top, exposing his ripped chest.

  Oh, you jerk.

  Biting my lip, I ask, “But if we did... what you had in mind... then you’d take out the plug?”

  “Yes, pet.”

  Good. If we do this, it’s not because Forta wants to—I’m going to get something I want in return.

  That may be mental gymnastics, but I don’t care.

  “Okay,” I say. I can be mad at Forta and still need some relief—if that’s wrong, I don’t care. I’m an alien’s captive on a world far from home—I think the rules can be bent, under the circumstances.

  He takes a firm grip of my shoulders and flips me over. Lying my head down on his chest, I moan as Forta pulls off his pants and holds his cock to my drenched pussy. Throwing off the blanket, he hugs me tight with one hand and spanks my ass with the other. The cave’s cold rakes my back, but I don’t care—my body is plenty warm now.

  As Forta slides his rod home, my heart wrenches, pulsing furiously. His cock rubs against the plug in my ass in a blast of bliss so intense I almost faint. Grunting, Forta begins to thrust in and out, going slowly, drawing out every drop of sensation from the motion. I groan as he pulls almost all the way out, sad for the near emptiness in my pussy, but wail when he shoves back in and starts hammering me with abandon.

  My howls rise to deafening levels thanks to the hard rock walls of the tiny cave. I feel like we’re both at the mouthpiece of a world-sized microphone—inside a nook carved out of a narrow ravine. The sound of my ecstasy could be traveling for miles, amplified by the land and carried on the wind.

  Forta makes sure to smack my ass as he pounds away.

  “Oh... god,” I croak. While an orgasm builds rapidly, a mental alarm cuts through the haze: I have to ask permission!

  “Master, I’m going to... Can I...”

  “You can come,” he says, taking hold of the plug in my ass. “Tonight, you don’t need permission.”

  “Thank you,” I cry, stretching the words into a scream that sucks all the air from my lungs.

  Forta draws the plug out a little, stretching my sore muscle, then lets it sink back in. I writhe in pleasure, enraptured by the power of his grip. He keeps me flush against his body, enveloping me in our shared heat. Fueled by his machine-like piston thrusting and the sweet aches throughout my body, I come hard. Holding Forta’s shoulders so tightly my nails dig into his skin, I tremble almost violently, overwhelmed by euphoria.

  As I ride out the intense orgasm, Forta doesn’t stop—he only slows down for a few seconds as I sigh with contentment. Then he accelerates back to full speed, punching my ticket for another trip to subspace. Sensations flow together—the slap of his palm on my bruised ass, the deep penetration of his massive shaft—all I really can feel is an unstoppable tsunami of pleasure. It doesn’t take me long to climax again, lost to the world except to repeat the same two words again and again.

  “Thank you... thank you... thank you...”

  By the time I feel the hot surge of Forta’s seed inside me, I’ve lost count of my orgasms. My screams finally subside into satiated moans. Forta hums contentedly, pulling out my ass plug and setting it aside. Both of us breathe heavy, chests pressed together, until he thinks to pull a blanket over us and tuck it under his legs.

  “Rest, pet.”

  “Not a problem... Master,” I mumble.

  He laughs, kissing my forehead.

  I laugh too. Here I am, sleeping in a cold, dark cave on an alien world, surrounded by monstrous aliens who think of me as an animal—and yet, part of me never wants to leave.

  Chapter Eleven

  A stray band of sunlight crosses my closed eyelids, waking me. I rise with a start, shocked by the strange surroundings before I remember the previous day. I catch myself wishing we could stay in this cave for the rest of Forta’s vacation, if just so that I could wake up somewhere familiar.

  I should be wishing for a real bed. My bed, back on Earth. Like a normal person.

  Forta’s clothes lie on the ground a few feet from me. I can smell his earthy musk everywhere—it hangs thick in the cave, untouched by the winds. I could sit here inhaling his essence all day, but where did he go?

  And what is he wearing?

  Of course, none of my clothes are anywhere in sight. I’m tempted to wear Forta’s like some kind of cloak—they would be comically big on me in any other way. I decide not to bother—it’s plenty warm, now that it’s daytime. Plus, the aches in my body remind me that taking Forta’s clothes without his permission would probably get me in trouble.

  I have to remind myself that that’s a bad thing.

  Outside, I shield my eyes from the sun—Dokkedex’s sun, I suppose. It looks the same as Earth’s from here. Adjusting to the light, I inhale deeply, savoring the planet’s aroma. It’s clean and whole, like it’s entirely free of pollutants. Vines rustle in the breeze, punctuated by an occasional squawk. As I look around, a critter pops out of one of the caves and looks right at me.

  No more than a foot tall and covered in white fur, it sniffs the air, wagging a fluffy tail. Like a rabbit crossed with a squirrel, it carries itself low to the ground; big, floppy ears and long whiskers wave around as it turns its head. According to my nanites it’s called a neesee, which are actually listed as potentially dangerous. That has to be a Dominar joke, though. It’s so tiny, and it’s just sitting there—not at all like a predator. Maybe it’s very young?

  “Here...”

  I don’t think there’s a Dokke word for ‘kitty.’

  “Here... fluffy!” I call, stooping down, smiling.

  The neesee looks at me again, standing on its hind legs. Checking up and down the ravine, it opens its mouth, revealing two rows of long white fangs. Growling, it steps forward.

  Uh... shit.

  Walking backward, not taking my eyes off the animal, I hear the rush of my heart pleading with me to break into a sprint right now.

  I’m lifting up on my feet as the animal springs forward. Then something hurtles through the air, nailing the animal in the head; it falls immediately, limp and still. Turning around, I look up to spot Forta standing on the ridge above—completely nude.

  Oh, my.

  “Check it,” he says.

  “I a
m,” I reply, transfixed.

  “Check the neesee!”

  “Oh. Yeah, okay.” I will myself to turn around as Forta carefully descends the cliff. Realizing I’m not sure how to ‘check’ a dead alien animal, I pick up the weapon he threw—it’s the club he fashioned last night out of vine and rock. He makes it look a lot lighter than it is, of course, but I can lift it well enough to poke at the creature. It doesn’t move.

  “I think you got it.”

  My task completed, I turn right back to staring as Forta makes his way down. The cliffs are fairly smooth, and his climb takes time—giving me ample opportunity to marvel at his flexing biceps and swoon at his shapely backside.

  “Enjoy the show?” he asks when he reaches the ravine floor. I’m still staring shamelessly, especially now that he’s turned around.

  “Yes, sir,” I say, licking my lips.

  Forta chuckles. “Want to see me skin and gut a space rabbit?”

  And, it’s gone.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Then go find some pixe berries and cawata leaf.”

  I shouldn’t know what those are, but I do—the nanites, I’m guessing, have told me. Without ever seeing the berries or leaves in person or in a photo, I know exactly what they look like—what their vines look like, and even how they feel. It’s freaking weird—but useful, I suppose.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Visiting the cave, I grab Forta’s shirt—not to wear, but to use as a sack. Then I head down into the ravine, taking a left at a fork in the cliffs. The path leads down to a small stream where I find what I’m looking for: pixe floating in the water like cranberries in a bog, and cawata covering the rocks. Excited by the job—I’ve never scavenged for food—I fill his shirt until I can barely lift it, then sling my haul over my back.

  Forta laughs when I return—really laughs, rather than just grunting.

  “What’s that?” he asks, spearing a hunk of meat with a sharpened vine. A campfire burns a few feet away, ready for a cookout.

  “Pixe and cawata,” I reply, glad to set down the sack.

  “Enough for half of Dokkedex. That’s too much, pet,” he says, walking toward me.