He watched me watching him, and I knew he definitely wanted something from me. No way that monstrous cock would fit inside me. It wasn’t physically possible.
He opened a cabinet and withdrew a fuzzy blanket to hand to me. It felt like the fur of some animal, and soft, so unbelievably soft. I pulled the blanket around me tightly and reveled in the warmth and lovely, soothing texture. It was the softest thing I’d ever felt, and it wrapped every inch of me, making my hard nipples ache with the tickling sensation.
He looked at me with something strange in his eyes, something I could not understand. “You breed well. Three males have fought for you. You are a valuable female.”
He was measuring me against the standards of his own culture, where the males fought to settle mating disputes. I had read a few articles on the Gran, their society, but not much was known. We did not have access to their home world and they had not been forthcoming with interviews, despite the treaty.
“What value you want?” I really needed more time to better study their language. I could barely articulate what I needed to say.
“I want to know why all your males fight for you. What is your value? Why do they hide you and protect you with their lives?”
D’Anton had considered me his prized possession, Carver used me for sex, and now the Criminal had become my latest in a list of imbalanced and dysfunctional relations. The truth I was only now realizing – men valued me for what they expected I could do for them. No one valued me for me.
The real question was what the Captain expected I could do for him.
I wrapped the blanket around me tighter, and the audible growling of my stomach reminded me of just how long it had been since I’d eaten anything besides salty broth. He strolled over to another cabinet set in the wall and pulled down two containers. He didn’t seem to care that his thick, meaty cock was swaying from side to side as he moved. As much as I tried to look him in the eyes, my gaze kept drifting to the hypnotic swing of his impressive equipment.
On a table in front of one of those low fluffy couches, he opened a box, and set a couple of glasses out beside a bottle of something amber colored. As soon as he removed the stopper on the decanter the scent of strong liquor filled the room. He reached into the box and took out some small brown squares. The scent of spice cake assaulted my stomach and hit me with a new level of hunger pang. My stomach growled again, more insistent.
He gestured towards the cakes. I didn’t hesitate. In a split second I devoured one of the heavy, moist bread chunks and let its spicy, almost-cinnamon flavor absorb into my mouth. There was nothing bad in the taste and texture, so I ate another, and another.
The Captain growl-chuckled and poured two glasses of liquor. He tipped his head back and dumped the whole glass in his mouth, hissing slightly after the fact. His alien eyes settled on me with expectation. I reached for my glass and sipped it.
The burn burst across my tongue along with a cinnamon-sweet taste. I fought to breathe for a second as the burn receded and warmth flooded through my body. This was a great way to get warm, liquor. I gulped back the rest and almost choked it up from the intense burn all the way down my throat – like breathing fire for a few seconds.
He immediately poured me another glass full of the throat-searing liquor.
When the burn finally receded and I could breathe without gasping and choking, I was completely warm from the inside out and felt great, all things considered. I’d seen some of the doctors and janitors on Nugene drinking alcohol, but never had a chance to try it. D’Anton always treated me like a child in that respect. From my earliest memories, I had always enjoyed an adult body, that’s the way clones were released from the incubation tanks. D’Anton didn’t seem to acknowledge my adulthood. He always referred to my birth age of six years. Though I was a grown woman in every sense of the word, and I’d quickly learned everything the education tutorials had to teach, D’Anton acted like I was still young. Age was a concept that did not relate to me. I had never ‘grown up’ like the rest of humanity.
The Captain urged me to take up the glass and drink more. I knew he was trying to get me drunk, and that might be a bad thing, but the warmth and happy buzz felt all too good. What was the worst he could do? If he wanted to hurt me, there were a thousand things he could do apart from sipping liquor and nibbling on spice cakes.
I downed the second glass, and grinned through the lovely searing burn. That warmed me up real nice. Hospitable as ever, he refilled my glass.
As I savored the flavor of another cake, the Captain laid himself out on the couch and beckoned me to join him. There was nowhere to sit apart from his lap – his tall, lanky body covered the entire couch. He slapped his thigh where he wanted me. A naked thigh accented by a huge cock and fist-sized balls.
We had made so much progress from the scene when we first met, when my forehead smashed into his face. We were happily swizzling drinks and chewing on yummy cakes, I hated to ruin it by being squeamish about sitting on his oversized genitalia. The longer I stayed and played nice with him, the more of those cakes I could eat. Another shot of the liquor might not be so bad either.
I sat down on his lap, carefully ensuring my blanket covered him first. I tried to ignore the hardening monster cock warming my ass while I devoured four more squares and another shot of liquor.
“What is your purpose? Why did they make you different?” He pulled the blanket down low on my back and stroked me with the soft palm of his hand, no claws. That felt… nice. I sensed where this situation was going, yet I was helpless to stop the progression.
“I experiment.” I looked him in the eyes, almost nose to nose, and I felt a surge of strength and anger at what this creature had done to me, to the men I loved, how he had ruined my life. “I no good work. Why you kill my men? Why you take me?”
He pulled my blanket off and gently pushed my wet hair away from my face. The gesture felt so human, but I knew there was nothing human about his thought processes or motives. I needed to keep reminding myself not to fall into the fallacy of anthropomorphism with the Gran. They were warriors, dominant predators, and they would probably eat humans, if not for the fact our slave labor was more valuable to them.
I saw something in his eyes, and the flick of his hand felt like dismissal of my question. “Humans made a profitable treaty. We like human workers, much better than our workers. You are something more than a worker, more than human. You heal too fast, move too fast. You are too strong. Are you a warrior?” His feline eyes pierced me with the accusation.
“I made for research… I D’Anton personal experiment. You kill my father.”
He blinked at me then. He understood exactly what he’d done, and I almost thought I saw a bit of pause or consideration in those inhuman eyes. Hot tears of grief rolled down my face. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t hold back the tide of emotions as I sobbed. The liquor had made me different, more sensitive to my bottled up feelings.
The murderer wrapped his warm, strong, furry arms around me and pulled me into a crushing embrace. I cried into his chest and my hands naturally found their way around him, stroking the soft, short fur of his torso. I had wanted to kill him, many times over, but now all I wanted was to get rid of the weight of my grief. This strong emotion was too much for me.
He lay back with me in his arms, and my blanket fell to the floor as he pulled me with him. Suddenly the warm, hardness of his cock slid up between my thighs and rested on my most sensitive flesh. It moved, rubbing me in the most alarmingly enjoyable way. He was so huge, No way that thing was getting inside me. I looked back to see the head of his cock slide out a several inches past my ass. The thing was damn near the size of my arm.
I did not even want to think about letting him try to put that monster inside me. “I no breed with Gran. I small.”
He chuckle-growled and his furry chest vibrated against my breasts, making my nipples even harder. He moved slowly and his thick, furry cock slid back and forth i
nside my thighs with a delightful massage. I moaned with the unexpected pleasure. It occurred to me then, I could rub one off riding the length of him.
“I do not breed my concubines.”
I knew the word he was using from the Gran vocabulary I had studied, but found it hard to grasp how I could fit that word. He could not have sex with me, not without tearing me apart. We both knew this. How could I be his concubine?”
“What mean concubine?”
“Pleasure. We give mutual pleasure, and I give you gifts. We are special friends.”
That’s all I needed right now, a Cat who wanted a friend with benefits. “Special friend, yes. Breed, no. No mate. Not possible.” I tried my best to draw lines, to understand what he wanted. He kept sliding his shaft in and out of my thighs, using me to stroke himself, and gifting me a phenomenal glide of hard meaty cock all up and down my wet pussy.
It felt so wonderful I almost considered letting him try to fuck me. I began grinding on him. In seconds I was breathing hard, so wet I could come all over him.
He reached down under the couch and came up with a small container – a spray bottle? He squirted a strange-smelling musk on my shoulder and buried his nose in me, rubbing all over my skin wet with musk. A deep rumbling growl came on as he grasped my ass hard and thrust his fat, stiff cock over and over. His claws dug in and kicked off my pain switch. The glorious friction of his cock brought me over the edge and I came hard. I clamped my legs tighter around his wonderful shaft and ground my wet pussy all up and down his length, matching him stroke for stroke.
I was bleeding from his claw marks, but I didn’t care. Drunken waves of pleasure bowled me over as I moaned and screamed against his chest and rode the heavy thickness of his cock. Somewhere in my third or fourth orgasm, he jerked and growled beneath me and his hot semen splattered my backside. His claws dug even harder into my ass as he convulsed and I drowned in a crashing flood of sex-pain euphoria, so intense, like nothing I’d ever experienced.
I woke to find myself laid out flat on his chest, slobbering, still quivering and coming all over the thick meat lodged between my thighs. The moment had been so powerful, I’d actually passed out.
The Captain released his claws from my ass and his arms drifted down to his sides. His eyes were closed and he lay beneath me purring in contentment. His hard cock vibrated against me as he purred. I could rub myself off on him again, if I had the energy for it.
Exhausted, heavily sated, buzzed and floating in euphoria, I could barely keep my eyes open. I needed to bathe and heal, but I had no complaints. No complaints at all. If this was all he expected from his concubine, then I could survive that shit, no problem.
* * * *
Chapter 9
Buzzed on liquor and high on sex and pain, I barely managed to stand in the hot misty shower attached to the Captain’s cabin. The Captain helped me steady myself as I swayed under the glorious heat washing down over me.
Steam baths were almost as good as sex.
He squirted liquid soap onto a scrub brush thing and rubbed it all up and down his fur, washing away the musky scent of wet Cat. The soap was perfumed with a spice I’d never smelled before.
I let the water run down my back, rinsing away the evidence of my debasement with the massive cock that rocked my world. I could hardly wrap my mind around the fact that I had participated in jacking him off – and enjoyed it so thoroughly. I must have been way far gone on the liquor.
It was a flimsy excuse, I knew, but I clung to the fact I was not in my right mind.
He squirted some of the soap on my breasts, and I could hardly believe how gently his hands rubbed the soap into my skin. Not a single claw nicked me. My nipples hardened again, and I could feel the wetness between my legs, my body readying for another round. He left my nipples aching as he focused on my shoulder where he’d sprayed that scent. He was careful to ensure he washed it all away.
I pointed to my shoulder. “What smell?” He showed me some teeth in an unmistakably human grin. He was trying to mimic my smile – how strange.
He said female something. I couldn’t understand what he meant. I cocked my head sideways in the Gran indication of confusion. He reached down and pulled up his tree trunk penis and stroked it once, then said male something. He brushed the soft head of his cock up between my legs, a delicate glide across my clit. Damn, I was getting ready for him again. He repeated his words from before, female something.
Then I understood – pheromones. He was talking about mating pheromones. I had studied enough of various kinds of biology to grasp that many animals used chemical pheromones and scent glands as signals for mating.
The bastard had sprayed female Cat mating pheromones on me so he could pretend I was in heat. I wondered if the pheromones were a necessary part of Gran mating, or just a bonus. The comical idea of the Captain jerking himself off with a handful of scented pheromones made me giggle.
The Captain pinned me to the wall with his sharp claws pinching hard into my shoulders and growled in my face, teeth bared in menace. “Do not mock me. Never mock me. Gran warriors kill for honor.”
Trying not to smile in his face as he hit my pain switch, I inclined my head. “I understand. Make apology.” Then I afforded him the respect I had never given him, I dropped my gaze in submission. I was now his concubine, and though it wasn’t the life I had ever wanted, it was probably my only chance to become a valued member of this alien society.
After our strangely intimate and intimidating shower together, the Captain led me into a small alcove with several air jets built into the wall, where we dried off. He looked a bit less intimidating with his fur all puffed up from the air jets. I probably looked like a lion with my wild black mane blown all over hell.
No mirrors anywhere in the place for grooming. I guessed the Gran didn’t need to do their hair or anything that required a mirror. I followed him into the main room of his cabin and stood with my arms wrapped around my breasts, still naked, but no longer covered in blood and come, and relatively warm from the steam and air jets.
He clicked at me to stay put and opened a tall door to what looked like a closet. He dug through there for a few minutes, not finding what he was looking for. Finally he growled and turned around with a smaller version of the belted-skirt thing the Gran wore, and handed it to me.
The belt felt something like leather, and the black fabric reminded me of a canvas-style weave. I belted it around my waist and adjusted the knee-length fabric front and back. It barely covered most of my ass, and draped down nicely to cover my front. He watched me as I covered my breasts again. Standing around topless made me feel self-conscious.
I’d never minded being nude with Carver, in private, but I didn’t feel comfortable at all naked in public. The Captain rummaged through a lower cabinet and came out with a brown fabric that looked a lot like a bra with two breast cups and straps that clasped together. I tried it on, and the straps were too big.
The cups were small, designed for way smaller breasts than mine. He stepped around behind me and adjusted something on the back straps and made it fit tighter. Through it all, he hadn’t left a single scratch on my back with his sharp claws. He knew how to be careful – the Captain only hurt me when he meant to.
Standing at my backside, he lifted up the flap of fabric covering my ass and gently touched the pink lines across my butt cheek where he’d last clawed me. They would be completely healed without a mark in another hour or two. “Amazing. You have been gifted by Lura.” I didn’t know what that last word was, but I suspected he’d invoked a deity.
“Angel.” I turned around and caught a strange look from him. “My name, Angel.”
I couldn’t place the emotion on his face, but then he brushed my wild hair away from my eyes, and I understood what I was seeing in him. Pride. What the hell was he proud of? The fact that he’d gained a special female to play with as his concubine?
“What you plan me?”
His vertical slit yellow
eyes focused on me with that domination look. I did not look down and away, I refused to submit on this issue. I needed to know why he was proud of me.
“I have not decided my plans for you. Fear not, special one, I will not hurt you.” He flicked his claw across my ass again and pulled me in close, his large cock rubbing up between my legs. “You are my special concubine. As quickly as you heal, we can enjoy many pleasures together, Angel.” When he said my name, it sounded like Angril, but at least I had a name, an identity. He saw me as a person who had value.
He gently touched the fading marks on my shoulders from where his claws had pricked me in the shower. I dropped my head in submission and let my fingers run down over his long, thick cock, wondering if I should try to service him again so soon. I had become his special concubine.
As I had feared, he’d tested me enough times to know I would heal up nicely within a matter of hours. I hadn’t complained once when he was slicing through my skin, hurting me. The prospect of enjoying my role as his sexual servant alarmed me more than the knowledge that he would probably claw the shit out of me every time he played pretend with his new concubine.
Then I wondered … if I enjoyed his rough sexual play so much, could I still call it pretend?
The End
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This is the end of episode one, but there’s more to come in Angel’s dramatic space adventure saga. Enjoy the next episode April 2015!
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Episode II
Angel 6.0: Concubine (Space Opera Romance) Page 6
