Brute: A Dark Sci-Fi Romance

by Loki Renard

  Farti makes a series of grunts and squeaks that seem to mean something to Crash.

  “We’re not doing this in here,” he says to the animal. “I don’t care if the ship smells like human. I’m taking her to the rec room.”

  Rec room doesn’t sound so bad. Sounds like table tennis and old gumball machines. I see them in the movies we can still watch from the old days. The days before Earthlings found out once and for all how utterly insignificant we are and always have been.

  * * *

  Crash’s rec room does not look like a place for table tennis. It’s not large. Maybe the size of a small bedroom. But there’s not a bed. The walls are octagonal and there are rings on every single one of them, several at different heights.

  “Not much room for recreation,” I quip.

  “It isn’t for recreation. It’s for remedial entity correction. This room is designed to break and train over a hundred forms of life.”

  “Of course it is. This ship is the size of a thumb drive, and you’ve dedicated half of it to torture.”

  “You lied to me,” he says, setting me on my feet, but holding me in place. His glowing gaze rakes over me, and the expression held in the hard lines of his face makes my stomach form knots. He is unhappy. Not rageful. Not angry. Not scandalized. Or even surprised. Just unhappy. And that is worse than the others, I think, because I have the feeling that a creature like Crash doesn’t stay unhappy for long.

  “I didn’t lie.”

  His lips tighten and then his hand goes to the wall. He pulls one of the rings. It looked hard, but it softens in his hand—until he pulls it over my wrist and it snaps tight. My left arm is bound. The other three limbs follow in quick succession. Each of them is wrapped in tentacle-like bounds and pulled out into an extended position. When he twists a dial on the wall, they move and so do I. My legs are pulled up off the floor, they rotate around, go higher and higher, like some kind of kinky amusement ride I am turned head over heels until I am suspended face down. The position makes the ligaments of my joints burn.

  “You’re going to rip my arms off!” There’s more than a note of panic in my voice. The danger in being handled by an alien isn’t that they’ll hurt you. It’s that they’ll hurt you by accident. Put you in a room without oxygen, because they breathe nitrous oxide. Feed you cyanide-spiced meals, because it’s one of their most prized flavors. Or suspend you by your arms because they don’t know that human joints aren’t really made for holding up our torsos.

  “Weak,” he mumbles to himself, raising a pedestal in the center of the floor until it rests below my breasts and belly, supporting my body. The burning sensation in my shoulders and hips disappears almost instantly.

  “I’m not weak,” I bite back. “You’re careless. And you have no right to be doing this. You’ve already almost killed me with your cum. Now you want to punish me and you don’t even know how my body works. You hurt me, and I promise you, you will never get that chip. Not ever.”

  He walks around to stand in front of me, the fire in his eyes damping so he looks closer to human, if humans were built on a grander scale.

  “You do have the chip then. The real one.”

  I clamp my mouth shut. I’m not going to talk. He is going about getting what he wants from me completely the wrong way. My orgasm has long faded now, and all that’s left in me is pure determination that he is an alien who isn’t going to get what he came for.

  He reaches over me, his hand dipping between my legs. His thick fingers take hold of the dressing that saved my life and slowly begin to peel it away. My pussy lips have stuck to it and are pulled with the bandage, not so completely that it is painful, but enough to make sensation rush through me.

  This is intimate, so much so that even though I am now far more rebellious than aroused, I can’t help the little quivers that are beginning low in my belly. I have never been treated this way. It’s hard to get my head around. I am furious, of course. By human standards, what he is doing is utterly unthinkable. But he is not human, and he will not act according to human customs.

  “Tell me, Pyxie,” he says, shortening my name in a way I haven’t heard anyone do in years. “Do you have the chip?”

  It would be a sweet question, if I wasn’t trussed up, bound, and face down with my genitals feeling like they just had an old-fashioned Band-Aid pulled off them. My bottom is still tingling too. He has managed to turn the entirety of my lower regions into a hot reminder of his natural domination.

  “Let me go,” I growl. “And maybe I’ll tell you.”

  “That is not how this works,” Crash says. He is still standing in front of me, his hand is reaching over my back, rubbing between my thighs, his fingers finding the folds of my pussy. I’m wet. Really fucking wet. I think it’s part of the reaction to his cum. My pussy has been so thoroughly ravaged that it’s now weeping arousal. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and tell me what I want to know, or you’re going to pay the price.”

  “I thought I was already going to pay the price for lying to you.”

  “So you admit it was a lie.”

  “I admit nothing.”

  * * *

  Crash

  She is adorably defiant, splayed out, ready to be fucked senseless. I know she’s lying about that box with wires in her bag, but I do think she has the real chip. Call it a hunch. Or the fact that the specs she sent in our communications were too precise not to come from the real thing.

  I sink a finger inside her pussy, testing her. She’s absolutely soaked. It’s as if I came inside her a hundred times over, and yet all this wetness is her and her alone. Her reaction to being thoroughly dominated.

  Her head is at crotch height. It’s no accident. She has three holes I can use to teach her a lesson. Her pussy is not even the most intimate among them. Her mouth is next on my list. Humans have very pretty mouths, and she has lovely full lips that are pouting at me now, and will look even better stretched wide around my cock.

  I am not pleased that she lied to me. I am even less pleased at the idea we might have spent a lot of money coming all the way out here for nothing whatsoever. But I am pleased at having found a perfect little fuck toy in Pyxel. She has no idea how perfectly she is made for taking me. I am much larger than her, and she must struggle to adapt to my size but that only increases the intensity and makes watching my cock slide into her all the more exciting.

  My cock is still free from when I fucked her, and though it lost some of its erection when I came, it is quickly returning to full hardness. I have to be careful not to hurt her. The anti-allergen applied to her pussy will keep working system-wide for quite some time, but still, coming inside her is dangerous for the moment.

  “You’re going to pleasure me with your mouth,” I tell her. “Do a good job, and I won’t thrash you.”

  “What? No! What?” She starts stammering and blushing and carrying on.

  “It’s a fair deal,” I say, letting the finger in her pussy slide in and out slowly. “You can take a long, hard beating for lying to me, or you can make it up to me with your mouth. What do you want to do?”

  What she wants to do is kill me. I see her temper flash hot in her eyes. She doesn’t like being dominated one little bit. This is a woman who has had far too much consequence-free chaos in her life. But she has to realize that she’s getting off pretty lightly here. I would be well within my trading rights to take her as forfeit for the deposit we already paid. I could beat her and fuck her if I wanted to. I could take her and sell her in a market somewhere, and she would be put to work in ways I shudder to imagine. There is nothing whatsoever that says I owe her a choice.

  I’ve given her one because it’s better to show mercy now, and to start training her into obedience, than it is to expose her to the full consequences of what could be the biggest mistake she’s ever made in her life.

  “I want you to let me go.”

  Her response makes me chuckle at her naivety. She truly expected to get away wit
h this. Such a silly girl. Putting herself into so much danger and for what? Some credits she can probably barely spend here anyway?

  I run one hand through her hair, then curl my fingers and use the grip to raise her head. “There’s no being let go,” I say firmly. “Not now. There’s having your mouth fucked, or having your bottom beaten. Which will it be?”

  She gives me the sweetest, sulkiest look. Her eyes drop down to my cock, and I see her tongue flicker out for a moment, wetting her lips. Right there, I know what her choice will be.

  “Mouth.”

  She says it in that same sulky way, but she says it without further prompting. There’s something between this human and me, an attraction we are both caught in. It is the reason I am giving her any choice at all. This is a kindness she has not earned and does not deserve.

  “Say please. And ask me to fuck your mouth.”

  She burns with embarrassment, but she does as she is told, and I see the straps holding her flex with the motion her hips make as she complies.

  “Please,” she grits out. “Fuck my mouth.”

  “Good girl.” I release my grip on her hair. Her head stays up. Her eyes are fixed on my cock. Her mouth is already part way open. I know she’d deny it if I pointed out how badly she wants my dick.

  She has gone unmated for far too long. She bristled when I said that, but it is true. I wonder if part of this plan to call a male from across the universe to buy her chip was a means of finding a mate worthy of her. I doubt that would be a conscious impulse, but when a bold, brave female such as this cannot find a man on her planet, she must resort to extraterrestrial measures.

  I urge my hips forward, the head of my cock playing over her lips. Her gaze flashes, but she doesn’t pull away. Nor does she show any of the little signs of disgust an unwilling female might display. Even in this uncomfortable position of punishment, she is attracted to my thick flesh.

  My cock starts to stretch her mouth. She should be okay, unless I come. It’s a dangerous game to be playing, fucking her mouth and knowing all the while that if I give in and let loose, she’s going to have a potentially dangerous reaction, but I have the cure at hand and this is too hot not to do.

  Her pussy squeezes my finger as I feed my cock right to the back of her mouth, find where her throat begins. She coughs and splutters a little, but I hold her neck with my other hand and feed my dick a little deeper. She can take it.

  Her eyes widen as she feels the thickness of my rod filling her throat. I pull out enough for her to gasp a breath, then push back in before she can start complaining. This is what she needs. Good, stern fuck training. It works with the bratty female cadets who find their way into the military thinking that they have some special privilege due to their pussies, and it will work on her. I’ve fucked a lot of cocky young ladies into submission in my time.

  For several minutes, I train her silently. She gets to know what is happening simply by what I’m doing to her. First my cock fills her mouth and throat. She suckles as best she can, and when she has done that, I pull out for her to breathe, and we repeat the process. Soon her tongue is lapping at my rod, and her lips are nice and tight around it. Small wet sounds emanate as I rock her head back and forth on my dick.

  I know as soon as this stops, she’s going to have an outburst. She is too proud to simply enjoy her submission and be praised for it. It’s a pity. She is being such a good girl right now. If she would just tell us where the chip is, I’d reward her with a series of orgasms she’d never forget.

  But some girls are only good when they’re full of cock, and she’s one of them.

  I let a second finger join the first inside her pussy. She could take more, but two stretch her nicely and I feel the results immediately, a long moan around my cock.

  “You ready to tell me what I want to know?”

  She shakes her head ever so slightly, as much as my cock will allow it. She doesn’t want to tell me. That would end the fun. And she hasn’t come yet. I could let her, but I doubt that would teach her anything. She’s already enjoying this far too much. Time to step the intensity up.

  “You’re not going to come again until I get that chip,” I tell her, pulling my dick out of her mouth. “You’re not going to get anything until I get what I want.”

  I pull my fingers out of her pussy and smack her bottom swiftly. Her yowl of outrage does nothing to hide the way her juices are streaming from her sex. The earlier dose of my cum has left her so wet I’m almost worried she might dehydrate.

  Pleasure isn’t getting me what I want. All that’s left is pain.

  * * *

  Pyxel

  He is going to pay for this. Every pain, every indignity. Most of all, he is going to pay for forcing me to admit to myself that I am enjoying this. My jaw aches from having his massive cock sliding repeatedly in and out of it. My pussy is sore from the ravaging it endured. I am his prisoner and I have no reason whatsoever to be aroused—but I am. I would fuck him again in a heartbeat. I would let him use my mouth, my cunt. I would let him do anything to me…

  “Tell me where the chip is.”

  …but I won’t tell him where that chip is. That is more than my body is worth. That is more than I am worth. I would let him kill me before I gave him that.

  But I am to blame for this. I brought him here and he wants what I promised him. I can’t blame him for what he’s doing to me. All of this is my fault. I got greedy. And now I’m going to have to pay the price with my body.

  He turns around. Hits a button I didn’t know was there. Part of the wall swings open to reveal a series of rods. He picks one out. It is about three feet long, the thickness of my pinky finger, and it makes a swishing sound when he cuts it through the air.

  Standing back, he takes hold of one of the restraints and pushes it. I find myself spinning around the other way, stopped when he grabs another one of them. He is behind me now. I can’t see a thing, except the wall. But I can feel that piece of alien cane pressing against my ass.

  It moves away, but returns a fraction of a second later in a quick whipping stroke. Pain flashes across my ass, shoots through my body. It’s a high pitch of sensation, racing through my nerves, taking signals of distress to my brain. Before I’ve even started to process it, another stroke lands. And then another. He is whipping that cane across my ass in a series of swift strokes that rise and fall just a few inches in amplitude, but land so fast I am absolutely overwhelmed with the sudden onslaught.

  When his cock was inside me, this felt intimate. There was some connection. There was something between us, even though we are strangers. But now there is only a gulf of demand and pain. And any slight, infinitesimal fraction of a chance there was of me ever giving him that fucking chip has just evaporated.

  “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you where it is! I’ll take you there!”

  He stops.

  “Really.”

  “Yes, just… stop that, and let me down.”

  He murmurs something I don’t understand to himself. The cane stops falling. It rests on the crest of my fiery bottom, even its light touch making the skin react with fresh ripples of pain. Crash knows how to pleasure me. And he knows how to hurt me. He was only getting started too. There are more cupboards, I am sure. More devices to hurt me with. More ways to shame me, pain me into giving him what he wants.

  “If this is another lie, you will hurt like never before,” he promises me.

  He is a brute. A monster. He’s making it so much easier to do what I am going to do next.

  Chapter Four

  Pyxel

  “You could at least have given me some new pants.”

  “You get nothing until we get that chip.”

  He left his pet back at the ship, along with the shredded remains of my clothing. I am being marched through forest, my pants still notably absent between knee and waistband. The humiliation is no doubt designed to do the same thing his cock and cane did: break me.

  I am not that easily broken
. And he is not as untouchable as he thinks he is.

  The ruins used to be an observatory. During the interstellar wars, which we lost repeatedly until finally those attacking us simply lost interest, there were a lot of bunkers and tunnels and whatnot built below it.

  My family first came here a hundred years ago. Granddaddy Pyle was a marine. He knew how to secure a location. This is the safest place I know of, because it’s also the most dangerous. Large swathes of it are mined. There are pressure plates everywhere. Unseen lasers detect intruders and disintegrate them.

  There’s a lot of ash on the ground around the entrance. A lot of it used to be people who decided to ignore the ‘No Trespassing’ signs we erected out of courtesy. Once upon a time I felt bad about that. These days, I don’t care so much. People should know to stay away from what’s in here. It’s mine. I guard it.

  Getting back to this place makes me more possessive, reminds me what my reason for being is. I needed to scam this guy because I need money to keep the defenses up, because what’s in here is priceless.

  So I’m not going to feel bad about what’s going to happen to him. I’m going to remember that he used me sexually. I’m going to remember that he beat me until I was prepared to do this. If I’d resisted longer, he would have beaten longer. And worse.

  “Be careful,” I say as we proceed down the stairs. “This is a dangerous place.”

  “Uh huh.” He doesn’t seem worried. He’s too arrogant to be concerned. Too certain that he can handle whatever one little human throws at him. But it’s not just me he has to worry about. I might be the only one left, but generations of Pyles have contributed to the defenses of this place. Including the special hall I’m about to lead him down. You don’t want to be the second person coming down this hall. Ever.

  “Now don’t try anything down here,” he says. Maybe he’s not as casual as he seems. Maybe he is a little suspicious. He should be. We are firmly on my territory now. I have plans for him. I have vengeance in mind.