by Loki Renard
We are bored, and arguing passes the time while our wounds finish healing. Scratch is pretty much on house arrest here. Shanti’s sons are always manning the outside of the house. I know that because he tried to go for a walk one day and was brought back within a minute, protesting the whole time. I noted they didn’t spank him, though. I guess they keep their beatings for their human female guests.
We have spent the last few weeks bickering, and healing. Weeks in which neither of us has been allowed to leave the room. We can’t escape each other. We have almost nobody else to talk to besides Shanti, and nobody else to take our frustrations and fears out on.
But we’re both getting better, and we’re both starting to reach a point where we can think about getting the fuck out of here. I don’t trust Scratch completely. I don’t trust him at all, actually. He has his own agenda, and whatever it is he’s not sharing it.
He’s also still very hot. The longer I’m stuck in a bed across from him, more or less captive in the same room, the more the tension between us grows. Sometimes we get to touch, but we have to sneak our moments, and we’ve almost been caught more than once. I kinda like that. It keeps things hot.
“I want that mouth again tonight,” he tells me, arrogant, like I’m definitely going to suck his dick. I am, but he doesn’t know that.
“I bet you do,” I smirk, enjoying the temporary feeling of control.
“You want this dick too. I know it. You're hungry for something Shanti can’t give you no matter how many meals she cooks.”
“You’re bad,” I giggle lightly. I like this banter better than the bickering. It’s fun and sexy, and the anticipation of sneaking around and getting off with each other is exciting.
“Have you slept with a lot of men?”
I don’t like the question, but I expected it. Seems like dudes of all species can’t resist the what’s your number question.
“Yeah.”
“Ravenous little thing,” he says.
“Eh. I do what I have to do.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I got a currency, and I trade with it.”
He thinks about that for a couple of seconds. I guess he didn’t spend that long on Earth if he doesn't know what I’m saying. I hear him growl under his breath as it clicks, though who knows how much he understands. I’ve had to look after myself for a long time, for longer than I've had any kind of means to look after myself. But I always had my body.
“Not anymore, you don’t,” he growls. “You're mine now.”
His words send a thrill of excitement through me, but I quench it quickly. I can’t believe in that. Every male likes to come over all possessive until his eye wanders to the next piece of tail.
“Yeah? I’ve had guys say that to me before. You know what happens?”
“What happens?”
“They get bored.”
“I doubt that,” Scratch says. “You’re not boring.”
“Fine. They get irritated. Whatever. They fuck off, is the point. Everybody leaves. And that’s fine. They do them and I do me.”
“Not everybody leaves,” he says, sitting up on his bed.
“You’re talking about yourself, Scratch? You must have left someone to end up here.”
“I didn’t leave anybody. I didn’t have anybody to leave. I haven’t led the kind of life that allowed me to have anyone. But that’s changing.”
“Yeah, you’re changing for me,” I roll my eyes. Men will say anything to get what they want. I don’t believe for a second that Scratch feels anything for me besides the desire to sink his cock deep inside my tight holes.
“Listen,” I tell him. “I don’t need you to pretend with me. I know some girls won’t give it up unless they’re convinced the guy loves them, but I know love is bullshit. So you can drop the mine act.”
“You’re the most cynical little thing I’ve ever met,” he laughs, his teeth flashing, fangs long and sharp, dangerous and sexy. “I’m looking forward to teaching you what it means to be my mate.”
“Your mate, huh?”
“That’s right. That’s what you are, Pixie. You may have touched a lot of men in the past, but you’ll never feel the touch of another male again. You’re mine.”
“Yeah. So you said.”
He smiles, that broad, confident, in-control smile. The one that makes me feel weak at the knees and bubbly in my stomach. He makes me nervous in all the right ways. Not that I’ll let him know it. He already has more control than I like over my mind.
We finally have the night to ourselves. Shanti won’t check on us until morning. This is the dangerous time. The time when he touches me and I risk falling in love, even though I say I don’t believe in it.
I want to be hard and cold. I want to use men the way they use me. That’s the easiest way to be. I just wish I was as good at convincing myself of that as I am at convincing others.
Tonight, I’m getting laid. That’s all that really matters. I need his cock. I need to feel him inside me, to be connected to him. I’m going to let myself believe in the romance he talks about.
We wait until we hear everybody settled. We’re not allowed to socialize yet, but we can hear the others talking, eating, doing whatever they do in the rest of the house, which must be fucking huge. There’s a moment every night where the last scratching and scuffling stops, the final voice bids goodnight, and we are ever more deeply alone.
That’s when the talking stops, and the action starts, when all the tension of the day is released on one another. So far he has taken my mouth, held my hair and made me suck him deep and long and hard. I have swallowed his seed a dozen times at least, and wiped it off my body many more times than that. What we do together is dirty and depraved. We are both so desperate to forget our circumstances. We hide in lust, taking shelter in quick and easy intimacy.
“Come over here,” I crook my finger at him.
He gets out of his bed and walks over to me. He’s moving so much better now than he did at first. He is lithe and agile, powerful in every way. Even in the simple act of crossing the few feet between us, he manages to turn me on.
He’s so fucking bad.
Scratch stops in front of me, his thick cock displayed in all its erect glory against the hard plane of his stomach. His smile is sharp and dominant, his eyes hooded as he gazes me down with the smug knowledge he’s going to have me. I’ve seen that look in so many men’s eyes. He turns me on differently than any of the guys who came before him.
He reaches down and runs the tips of his fingers through my hair, his claws scratching lightly against my scalp. Electricity dances over my skin and down the back of my neck, finds my spine and zips through my body, pooling in the back of my knees, my toes - and in that dark, wet place between my thighs.
I am so sexually hypersensitive to this creature, this absolute male who has declared me his.
“You are mine,” he tells me. “All mine. There will never be another male after me.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” I hiss. I don’t know how to take his words. I don’t know if he means them, or if he is like some of the guys back on Earth who would say literally anything to get into my pants. At least he’s not telling me he loves me. I would know that was bullshit. What we’re doing isn’t loving. It’s fucking. And that’s why I want it so bad.
“Fuck you? You want my dick inside you?”
Having him in my mouth is starting to drive me crazy. I’ve swallowed his seed, but I’ve never felt him inside me. I lie awake sometimes, listening to him snoring, because unlike me, he does snore, and touching myself, wanting him inside me but being too ashamed to ask.
He’s playing a game with me. He’s making me ask him for it. And he just won.
“It’s time we both got some pleasure out of this,” I tell him. “Not just you. Me too.”
“I’ve been greedy, haven’t I?” He smirks down at me. “But I think you’ve taken some pleasure for yourself. I’ve watched you rub yourself between your th
ighs. I’ve smelt your scent, and I’ve seen you flush bright red with orgasm.”
I want to tell him to fuck off. I’m used to feeling at a deficit when it comes to sexual dynamics, but usually the balance is restored when I get what I want. It’s different with Scratch. I want him, and that puts me at a disadvantage. The way his eyes flash with green intensity gives me thrills all the way to the core of me. I can feel myself clenching with anticipation, almost like he’s already inside me.
“You want me to fuck you, you better assume the position.”
Oh my god.
This is hot, even if it shouldn’t be.
I pause, apparently for a little too long. He glances toward the door, then back toward me. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me up off the bed with ease. I weigh nothing to him. He is much stronger than a human male, and in his arms I am nothing more than a sex toy for his use.
He's impatient. He knows we don’t have time for foreplay. He bends me over the bed and lifts my hips up and puts my pussy in the perfect position for fucking. He pushes my skirt up, baring me for his gaze. I can feel his fingers drifting over my lower cheeks, the rough pads of his fingers callused and tender when they find their way down between my cheeks and then to my lips.
I let out a little gasp. I was wrong when I thought there wasn’t foreplay. This whole thing has been foreplay. From the moment we met we’ve been building toward this moment. I feel him stroking his thumbs down the outside of my lower lips, stroking me and teasing me. I bury my face in the furs to hide the moans threatening to escape me.
“You’re wet," he purrs softly, slipping one of his thumbs from my lips and instead pushing it inside my sex. The side of his hand rubs against my clit as he enters me with that probing thumb.
“You’re tight,” he observes next. “I’m not sure I’ll fit.”
“I’ll stretch,” I moan as he presses against the inside of my walls, rubbing against the front passage of my pussy, giving me an internal massage which makes me squirm with anticipation.
“You will,” he growls. “You’ll stretch for me, won’t you. This tight little pussy of yours will take this big, bad cock.”
His thumb slides out of me, and then I feel it. What I’ve been waiting for since we met. The inevitable dick made for me.
Scratch rubs the head of his cock along my slit, and I feel him spreading my native wetness all over me. He’s teasing me. We don't have time for this, but he’s teasing me anyway.
Oh, this is so fucking wrong. He’s an alien, and he has his bare dick right at the entrance of my body. He’s going to push inside me. It’s inevitable. I’ve been waiting for this since I first saw him. I’ve wanted it night after night and now it’s happening.
Scratch bends over me and I feel the tip of his cock fit neatly into the flesh between my thighs. He licks my neck, hot and wet, and then sharp fangs make contact, squeezing down against my flesh, just holding back from sinking inside me. My fingers are clawed in the furs, my thighs parted wide.
I’ve had dirty, cheap sex before. It was my preference. I didn't like being close to the guys I fucked. I wanted it to be about the sex, not about the man.
This is different. I feel the growl of my alien mate vibrating through my flesh, and I feel his cock perched at the very entrance of my pussy, just waiting to plunge deep inside me and take my alien virginity.
I’ve worked for this. I’ve spent longer getting to know Scratch than I’ve known almost anybody, definitely longer than I’ve known anybody I’ve fucked. Of course he still has his secrets. I don’t know who he is really, or what his agenda is. But I know he talks in his sleep sometimes, and I know he likes his meat rare. I know he’s good with women. He’s definitely been all charm and smiles with Shanti. And he’s got me right where he wants me. Head down. Ass up. Ready to be taken.
He pushes inside me slowly, spreading me open by delicate degrees, letting my body adjust to the thick intrusion of his plunging cock.
Oh this feels good. Good and wrong. He’s an alien. His flesh is not human, but it is inside my body, pleasuring me even more effectively than any human appendage ever has. He goes slow and he goes deep, sinking all the way in one slow inch at a time.
I let out a low groan. It has been too long since I was fucked properly. I have needed this. Craved this. And now I have it. A thick rod of flesh inside me, stretching me lewdly wide as I crouch like an animal, displaying my sex to the male who has chosen me to fuck.
SLAP!
“Ow!” I yelp into the furs as his palm meets my ass.
“I told you I was going to spank you when I fucked you,” he growls into my ear. “I like the way your ass looks when it’s hot and red.”
I like the way the heat and sting sink through my flesh. He’s spanking me just as hard as Shanti did, but there’s no comparison in stimulation. When she did it, I just felt sore and shamed. When he does it, that pain and shame turn into wet heat between my thighs, slicking his thick alien cock with my juices.
“This is fucking hot,” I moan into the furs.
Scratch
She’s right. This is fucking hot. I love the way her round human ass spreads for me, letting me delve into the tight, hot little hole hidden between her thighs. Being with a human is a much more intense and long lasting experience. With a grimalkin female, we’re expected to insert, hump, and hold ourselves deep. There are barbs on my cock designed to hold myself inside a mate. I have to keep them closed with Pixie. I do not want to hurt her. She is much softer, much more tender. Her pussy was made to be fucked long and hard and then filled all the way up with a man’s seed.
So I fuck her the way she needs to be fucked. I go deep and I hold myself there. I experience the thrill of her pussy clenching me, her inner muscles rippling around my cock as her body does its best to milk me for my seed.
“Can you get pregnant?” I growl the question into her ear.
“No,” she whispers back.
That’s good. This situation is complicated enough as it is without leaving litters all over the place. I want her just as she is. I want to use this hot human body, I want to feel her use me back. We both need this.
I flip her over onto her back. I can’t bite the nape of her neck in this position, but I want to see her while I’m fucking her. All the most delicious parts of a human are located on their underside.
The sight alone almost makes me come immediately. The human is stunning with her legs spread, her pussy lips wrapped around my cock, her belly tensing and relaxing as she undulates against me, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. It’s not just her body which threatens to send me over the edge, it is the look in those molten human eyes of hers, those deep brown pools of depravity and lust. She is the perfect siren, an absolute sexual star.
I’m not going to be able to hold back. It has been years since I have mated, and the impulse to spend my seed is unavoidable. I arch my back and I pound my cock into her hard and fast, my paw over her mouth to muffle some of the human sex noises she makes. All the whimpers and moans will attract attention if we are not very careful.
In the end, it is my own muffled growl which is the loudest as I release myself inside her, my climax rushing through me, tingling every part of my body, making the hair on the back of my neck rise all the way down to my spine. It is so intense I can hardly keep from shouting.
My orgasm triggers hers, the sensation of her pussy being flooded making it impossible for her to hold back. When she comes, it’s adorable. All the exposed parts of her flesh turn pretty pink, even her ear lobes flush with orgasm, but especially her breasts, her chest, her cheeks, even her nose has a blushing hue.
She arches her back and draws her legs up and her pussy quivers on my cock, taking my seed deeper and deeper inside her.
“So. This is why you both sleep late…”
Pixie
“Oh fuck.”
Shanti is standing in the doorway, her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed.
The mood is instan
tly, irrevocably ruined. All the warmth and sensual connection I felt with Scratch is swept away in the blast of cool air which the matriarch brings with her when she swings the curtain open wide and steps inside what felt like our private space.
I blush furiously as Scratch pulls out of me and stands up, his cock retracting into that sheath in his belly. I have to try to pull my skirt down to cover myself, but I can’t cover the way his cum is slipping out of me. God, there’s a lot of it, making me even wetter and messier than I would be on my own.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I stammer.
“It looks like the two of you are having sex.”
“Oh, then it is exactly what it looks like.”
That was not a helpful exchange. I’m not used to apologizing for fucking. I’m not even sure I should be apologizing. I feel like she’s the one who should be saying sorry and leaving, but I can tell from the expression on her face, that’s not what she plans on doing.
“Well,” she says. “This will not do.”
“It’s not your fucking business,” I say. “We can do whatever we want.”
That is not the right thing to say. Shanti gives me a look so harsh I immediately fall silent. She’s going to tear my ass up if Scratch lets her. I find myself reaching for him, my fingers curling in his fur. He has said nothing so far. I hope he’s not afraid of her. If he is, that’s definitely not hot.
“What she said, but with less swearing,” Scratch says. “We are mates, Shanti.”
“You are no such thing. You are a prisoner and a stray, and I have given neither one of you permission to form a mate bond.”
“We don’t need your permission. Nature gave us all the permission we need. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but Pixie would never have made a suitable mate for your sons. She’s too wild for that.”
“Too wild for wild cat, but not too wild for a city cat?”
“Fate is not without a sense of irony.”
“You are lucky to have escaped the war with your life,” Shanti tells Scratch. “And you repay our kindness by taking the human female?”
