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Kitty vs Alien: Feral Aliens

Page 4

by Renard, Loki


  I quiver when I feel the head of him touch my pussy, his heat making my sex react. There has been very little foreplay, but I am soaked. It is the intensity of the moment, the fact that I am being taken and owned, becoming his chain-kept. The chain itself feels like a hand lightly squeezing around my throat, intensifying all the already intense sensations sweeping through my body.

  Usually there would be words. If he was human, he’d say something. But he’s not human. He’s an alien beast and he has only one agenda: to fuck me long and hard.

  And that is what he does.

  I feel him spread me, just as he promised he would. I feel my lips part around him, gripping his cock from the first instant it makes contact. My inner walls spread for him as willingly as if he were a chosen human mate. More willingly, if anything. My body is on fire for him. My desire is an intense force which makes my hips writhe to try to help him slide ever deeper.

  He thrusts forward with one deep stroke, and I am claimed. His body is over mine, the thick pelt of his fur rubbing against my clit, teasing it as his thick cock stretches my pussy open. I feel his fur pressed all the way along my flesh, my nipples teased by the rough but silken strands as he lays over me and thrusts deep inside me, one of his hands keeping both of mine pinned to the floor above my head.

  “Mine,” he growls, his fangs grazing my neck as he thrusts deep inside me, pulling all the way out only to thrust back in with a powerful, ravaging stroke. I will be sore after this, but it will be the kind of sore which makes my clit throb. I can feel his power, the immense musculature which he has to hold back to avoid crushing me.

  His. Yes. His. Who else could I ever belong to? I cling to him as he fucks me long and hard, making sure my cunt is well branded with his cock, making sure I will never in my life forget what it feels like to be taken by him.

  Grunting and growling with animal dominance, Skoll lifts me up from the floor, pushes me over a leather-clad bench and slides back inside me from the rear. I get the sense this is how he wanted me from the beginning. This is the proper way a grimalkin fucks his human prize.

  His teeth sink lightly into the back of my neck, holding me in place as he hammers inside me, his powerful body arched over mine as his cock drives deep and swells, threatening with each and every stroke to fill me up, to bathe my bare cunt in his seed.

  “Mine to fuck,” he tells me with firm, punishing strokes.

  “Mine to use.” He grunts as he gets closer to the climax I know must be inevitable.

  “Mine to fill!” With those three words, he slams deep inside me and comes, his seed flooding my human womb with that same animal intensity he fucked me with. I can feel it bathing my insides as he holds himself in place, not allowing even a single drop of it to escape.

  I wriggle, but he holds me firm, his teeth on the back of my neck, keeping me in place. I am trapped beneath him, my pussy filled with his cock and his come, my clit grinding against the end of the fuck bench.

  I feel the true depths of his possession, the complete depravity of it all, an aching cunt all filled up with alien seed, and here I am, a willing human possession. I wail and I wriggle and he bites me and holds me down, his hand slipping beneath me to strum my clit into an even longer orgasm, one which seems to roll on and on, making my cunt clench and draw his alien essence ever deeper inside my conquered cunt.

  Finally, he pulls free of me and I feel the hot rush of his come running out of my pussy and down the insides of my thighs. I have been anointed by him, claimed by him. I have been bathed in his scent and seed, and have become completely unraveled.

  His fingers curl in the collar and use it to lift me up from the bench. He turns me to face him and holds me against his body, my unsteady form supported by his massive arm.

  “That is why you are mine,” he growls, tipping my head up to look at him. “This is why you will obey me. Because I can make you feel this way. Because in my arms, you are my possession, my prize fuck-meat.”

  He is right. There is no leaving his embrace. There is no leaving him at all.

  6 Kitty Breeding

  Kitty

  “Hello, my chain-kept.”

  I feel Skoll’s voice vibrating through me in a deep purring growl. I don’t know how long he has been holding me, how long I have been giving myself to him in a curled embrace as we lie together on the soft furs of the chain room.

  This doesn't feel like his place. This doesn’t feel like anybody’s place. It feels like a sort of hotel with extra leather. There’s nothing personal here. There’s also no food. My stomach complains as I wake and turn in his arms. I don’t remember lying down, but I remember being held all night long.

  It shouldn’t be romantic, to be put on a chain and told you are owned, but it is. Skoll’s body heat sinks into mine, keeping me warm in spite of my nudity.

  “How long are we going to stay in this room?”

  “Not long,” he says. “This is a temporary place of claiming. I will take you to my own home, and there you will begin your life as my chain-kept, serving my desires and discovering the depths of your own.”

  It sounds almost tempting. It would be easy to give into his will, surrender myself to this alien world and their strange customs which so far have bought me pleasure as much as pain. But this is not just about me. This is about my cat. Mr Tiddles. I will not abandon him to this strange place, and certainly not to whatever cruelties might await him at the paws of the grimalkin.

  I need to escape Skoll. I need to find Mr Tiddles, and I need to get a ship back to Earth. There has to be a way back.

  But first I have to understand the world I’m in. I have to know what’s going on in Purr. So, before I escape and find Mr Tiddles, I have to discover and unravel the intricacies of a world beyond my own.

  How hard could it be?

  “What are we waiting for?” I glance toward the shining wall which allows us to transit through to almost anywhere. “What will you do next?”

  “I’m still looking for my fugitive. I will find Richardkimble and I will send him to the mines.” Skoll glowers as he says the alleged name of my cat, and I know he is taking this incredibly seriously. He is determined. But so am I.

  “But first I will feed,” he declares.

  He’s not talking about breakfast in the traditional sense. He is talking about a long, slow ravaging. He’s talking about his mouth on my pussy, his tongue lapping against my lower lips. He is talking about pinning me down and keeping me there for orgasm after orgasm…

  “Oh my…”

  I pant and writhe, my hips squirming in a primal dance as he holds me down and pleasures me, his furred back rising between my legs, undulating with every motion of his mouth.

  Skoll's claiming is thorough and complete. He is not content to make me climax once. He licks every trace of the seed he spent over my lips last night and then he suckles at my clit, teasing, taunting, tormenting my almost exhausted sexual response.

  “Your taste is delicious, chain-kept Kitty,” he purrs against my lower lips. “You are absolutely beautiful. I am glad you were so rebellious, and that you refused to listen when I told you to show the magistrate respect. He might have had you sent back to Earth, rather than allowing you to stay here as my chain-kept.”

  “What!?” I bolt upright and stare at him. “He might have sent me home?”

  “He might have, but not with the way you behave. You’re a perfect candidate for a chain-kept pet. You’re wild, but not so wild you can’t be tamed. And you can’t be trusted back on Earth. You’d tell everybody about the planet Purr, and you’d probably go about checking every single cat you encountered to see if it was secretly a grimalkin. No, it was good you defied me and forever denied yourself your freedom on behalf of a fugitive who has not bothered to see if you’re okay.”

  “I hope Mr Tiddles is as far away as it is possible to get from this place.”

  "And what if I’m right? What if the being you think is a cat is actually a criminal who has abandone
d you to the justice of his home planet? What if you are paying the price for his misdeeds.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You are on a planet you didn’t know existed yesterday. You have been judged, chained, and mated. And yet you still believe your cat is just a cat. You believe we put all this effort into chasing small animals from foreign planets. You think we don’t know how to trace our criminal fugitives, but spend months tracking pets.”

  “I think you could be wrong. Mr Tiddles lived in my house for three years. He curled up with me and watched television with me. He was so cute. It was like he was actually following the television stories…”

  “Which is something cats are known for?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “Did Mr Tiddles show any other not quite animal behaviors?”

  “He could open doors. Only if they were the lever type of handles, though. Oh, and he was a communist… just kidding.”

  Skoll scowls at me, making a naughty giggle rise to my lips. “You still don’t take this seriously, do you?”

  “Life isn’t that serious. And even if it was, I couldn’t take this seriously.”

  “You still think it’s a hallucination?”

  “It could be. I could be in a coma.”

  “Do I need to whip you again? Perhaps find a laced leather cat-o’-nine-tails to break through your ongoing resistance to admitting that reality applies to you even when you don't like it?”

  “I’m just saying, Mr Tiddles was my cat. I would have noticed if he wasn’t my cat. I mean, if he wasn’t a cat.”

  “I am going to find him, and I am going to prove to you that you’ve been duped.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Why do I care about catching my bounty?”

  “Why do you care if I believe you or not?”

  He stops. He gives me a long look, and then he opens his mouth and closes it again. “I, er…”

  It matters what I think, apparently. I may be his chain-kept, and he may be a feral grimalkin alien with almost nothing besides carnal possession on his mind, but I matter. My opinion matters. That’s as interesting as it is flattering.

  “Stop smiling like that, human,” he growls warningly.

  “Smiling like what?”

  “Like you’re…”

  “Like I’m what?”

  “Just. Stop,” he growls.

  I laugh. “You like me.”

  “That like is diminishing by the moment as you keep smirking at me, human,” he growls, but I can sense he doesn’t mean it. Skoll likes me, and I think I like him. Except for the part where he believes my pet is an interstellar fugitive.

  “It is time to take you home, Kitty.”

  He takes my chain in one hand and sweeps his other arm around my back and pulls me up into his arms.

  “Where is your home?”

  “In hills very distant from Scratch City.”

  “Like Hollywood?”

  “Nothing like Hollywood.”

  He steps through the shimmering wall with me in his arms. I feel that strange wet sensation splashing all around me, and then a cool breeze which whips my hair around my face, momentarily obscuring my view.

  When my vision clears, I am stunned.

  “Oh my… this is beautiful.”

  “Yes,” he agrees. “This is where I prefer to be, when I am not trying to bring order to the universe.”

  I am looking at the most spectacular scenery I have ever imagined, let alone seen. This is…

  We are standing underneath the overhang of a rock, at the mouth of a cave. But it is not the cave which arrests my attention. It is the vast valley which lies below us, a verdant green jungle stretching out into what looks like forever, if forever terminates in a brilliant ocean, or maybe a very big lake. The undulating low hills out toward my left rise to mountains which threaten to pierce the sky. There is a feeling of openness here, an almost endless emptiness filled only by nature.

  When I turn around, I expect to find some kind of home built into the rock. But there’s nothing besides a shallow den with a few erections to make it livable. This isn’t a home. It’s a camp. A transient location which leaves almost no trace on the landscape.

  “You live in a cave? Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” he says, letting me down to my feet. I find myself clinging to him. The edge is too close, and the distance to the ground below is too far. I am not made for places like this. I am used to built-up areas with nice little houses, or at least, little houses. I used to live in a nice neighborhood. Sometimes the neighbors were too noisy, but at least they weren’t aliens. Well, I guess one of them was. Maybe some of the others were too. Maybe I never knew anyone surrounding me.

  I hold on to Skoll and I stare out at this absolutely astounding view, and I wonder if I’ve ever really understood my life at all. All of this was always out there, but all my thoughts were so small, and so directed by the things I watched. Every day, a screen told me what to worry about, and I dutifully worried about it. I forgot how big and weird and strange existence really is, and how much we don’t know. Standing here with Skoll, all the worries I invested so much in before seem pointless.

  I feel as though I’ve been set free of a world of expectations and ideas. I feel as though there are endless possibilities, endless worlds, and maybe I have a place in some of them, and maybe I don’t, but I know I’ll never make my brain small again after this.

  “Get comfortable,” Skoll says. “This is yours now.”

  “Doesn’t the rain and wind just drive right in here?”

  “When it does, I put up the skin sails and I secure them to the points in the rock so they provide some shelter.”

  “I’m going to freeze here,” I tell him. “I need clothes and walls and heat. Humans can’t survive on the sides of mountains for very long.”

  “I will get you some skins and clothing, and we will make fires, and I will always keep you warm. Do not worry about that, my chain-kept. No harm will come to you here. Not ever.”

  His assurance is kind, but I do not think he gives it out of kindness. I think he gives it because I am his possession and he wants to keep me. If I die of exposure, that puts an end to that.

  Looking around, I try to see if I might find a way to become comfortable.

  There’s a corner which looks as though it has been used for sleeping, where skins and rugs surround a fire pit which has been carved into the rock. A few animal skins partition the area off from the completely open spaces all around. It’s not going to do anything against any kind of weather, and I am sure they get rain of some kind here.

  The only hint that this is anything other than an animal’s den is the shimmering patch on the side of the wall connecting this remote home with the rest of his world. The transport wall we walked through draws me with all the allure of potential escape. I want to be somewhere with walls, a roof, and the illusion of security. This is far too wild and precarious a place for me to live.

  “There's not even a way down,” I say, creeping a fraction closer to the edge. There is a sheer drop out under the lip of the cave, and no path on either side. “How do you get here? Do you always use that shiny thing?”

  “I can move up and down these rock faces at will. You will be compelled to stay here, I believe.”

  “So this is another cage, just a very open one.”

  “This is where you will stay while I find the fugitive, so I can keep you.”

  He wants me, and I find that gratifying on one level. On another, it means that I’m going to be stuck on the side of a cliff forever.

  “There’s not a lot to do here.”

  “I will do you, human. You will be very, very well done.”

  He lifts me up in his arms and I feel the heat of his muscular body as his chain clanks against my chest. It is heavy and confining, but no less confining than his arms themselves as he carries me across to his wild furred bedding and lays me down.

  I look up i
nto his terrifying and yet handsome face. No matter how much his sharp fangs and muzzle jaw frighten me, his eyes always bring me back to that state of dangerous attraction.

  He is between my thighs; his powerful legs and hips and that thick cock erect and rough against my sex. He’s grinding against me, slowly, but suggestively, keeping me pinned against the soft furs. There is no way out of this. Being chain-kept means being his in every way.

  I find myself grinding back against him, welcoming the hot length of his cock. I never got laid when I was a simple landscaper down on Earth. I looked at men, sometimes. But my attempts at relationships with them were always so complicated. It could never be simple like this. It could never just be about sex.

  That’s what this is about though, pure animal attraction, utter carnal release. In the back of my mind, I know that reality will eventually reassert itself. Nothing this hot and spectacular lasts forever. This is a dream from which I will inevitably awake, but not before I feel his cock plunge inside me again.

  I spread my thighs and I welcome him in as his mouth descends on mine in one of those dangerous, possessive kisses which make my head spin. There is something so deeply, primally chemical between us, something which ignites my need and makes me soak myself.

  Skoll slides the head of his cock along my slit and then sheathes himself inside me in one long stroke.

  There is no resistance to him, just a welcoming and an ease. This feels natural. My body feels as though it was made for him, even though he is thicker and longer than any human male, even though he rises above me and plunges deep with animal desire.

  “I’m not letting you go, chain-kept,” he growls. “Not ever.”

  Caught beneath his body, I surrender myself. I feel his teeth flash along my neck, I feel the sharpness of his ferocity, and all his danger. And I feel something else. I feel his possession, and something more than that, a plan. This fucking is not merely a release of carnal energy. He has something planned for me, something which is happening to me right this second.

  He fucks me, his cock deep inside me, thickening with every thrust until he can barely move inside me, until I am so stretched around his incredible girth that we are practically stuck together.

 

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