“Have you been good while I was away?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, blushing. There wasn’t much I could do to misbehave, but at least Briette didn’t have to gag me.
“Do you think the world will be grateful for what I’ve done for them today?”
Ridding Earth of the scourge of Al-Quansa?
“Definitely.” I can’t imagine many people will be sorry they’re gone.
He smiles and hurries his pace. His grip on me is strong, and I wince as the movement jostles my plug.
“Are you sore, pet?” he asks.
“Yes, sir. If you knew you were going to be gone so long…”
He chuckles. “I did that so you’d want me to come back soon.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “I already did, sir.”
“Yeah? That makes me very happy, Jillian. Seriously. It means a lot to me.”
I don’t reply, except to lean against his shoulder and inhale his intoxicating scent—like desert musk.
We arrive at his quarters, and Vol wastes no time in setting me down on the bed and ripping off my singlet.
“Lie down on your front,” he instructs. “Let me see that plug.”
After sitting for hours, stretching out on my stomach feels heavenly. Vol grips the base of the plug carefully, but I’m so sensitive right now, I groan at the slightest touch.
“Ready, pet?”
“Yes, sir.”
Slowly and gently he pulls the plug outward, prolonging my torment just a little longer. I can feel every inch of it slowly spreading my flesh one last time, and I squeal as he lets my ass suck the toy back in. I grasp the sheets of his bed and moan through gritted teeth, tensing for the next pull. Vol presses down on my back, keeping me still as he works the toy outward again.
“That’s it, pet. Almost there.”
I inhale slowly, forcing myself into a calm rhythm, but my breath escapes in ragged gusts as fresh pain surges from the toy’s departure. As soon as it’s out, I open my eyes and turn to look at it, weirdly curious to see the cause of my discomfort and frustration for the past several hours.
Catching me looking, Vol asks, “Do you want it back, Jillian?”
“No, sir!” I retort indignantly, causing him to chuckle. Now that it’s out, the emptiness feels strange, almost unpleasant. I tell myself that’s just because I was used to it—not because I actually liked it, but I don’t buy my excuse. The relief of seeing Vol come back safely and to be lying down is enough that I don’t mind at all when he binds me to his bed. Instead of using whatever force fields the telerings use to remain locked or stationary, he uses sets of real, solid chains that connect my telerings to his bed’s posts. The chains are just long enough to reach the posts, forcing my limbs to spread apart as far as they can go. Vol climbs on top of me, laying a trail of kisses up my back until he’s in position.
Helpless and exposed, I shiver in anticipation as Vol slips off his combat suit and underclothes. My pussy is so wet, I clench needfully, impatient. Vol chuckles, running his hand over my slick folds. “Unbelievable, Jillian. You’d do anything for relief right now, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I admit, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.
“It makes me think I’d be wasting a wonderful opportunity if I just gave you what you wanted.”
“Please, sir.” I don’t know what else to say—if he’s determined to tease me, I’m powerless to stop him. All I can do is appeal to his mercy.
“Very well, pet,” he says, squeezing my ass. “I suppose you’ve been good and deserve a reward.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say, sighing happily.
I pull against my chains, savoring the strangely satisfying sensation of being restrained, and then gasp as Vol presses his cock into my sopping channel. Although I know how big he is, I’m still stunned by how enormous his cock feels as it drives inside me. I’ve had a few lovers, and none of them come close to Vol’s inhuman size. Every inch he pushes into me makes me think I can’t take anymore, yet he still keeps going. Gasping from the pain and ecstasy, I squeeze my inner walls against his hot shaft until he groans blissfully.
Dominar stamina must be limitless, because even after hours of hunting terrorists, Vol shows no sign of fatigue. He pounds into me relentlessly, slapping my ass and reaching under my chest to cup my breast. The sting of getting spanked and the ecstasy of his cock thrusting hard blast my senses.
“Forgetting something, pet?” he says, peppering my warming cheeks with quick smacks. Each one makes me yelp a little louder, as his hand prints sear across my backside.
I barely have the presence of mind to babble, “Sir may I come may I come may I—”
“Not yet,” he replies, slowing his rhythm.
I cry out, stunned by his denial. My body aches for him to go harder and faster again, and I long for permission to release the cyclone of an orgasm stirring within. How I manage to obey him, I don’t know.
“Tell me who you serve, Jillian.”
“You, sir! I serve you!”
He bucks hard against me, plunging in deep.
“I own you, pet. You are mine. Say it.”
“You own me, sir,” I reply. “I’m yours.”
He licks two of his thick fingers and drives them into my ass. “Again!”
“You own me, sir! I am yours!” I don’t care if it’s wrong—Vol makes me feels incredible, and not just by dominating me.
He slides his cock as deep as he can, filling me completely. “What are you going to do, Jillian?”
“Whatever you say, sir,” I howl.
Vol fists my hair in his empty hand and pulls my head back. “Then you can come.”
As soon as he says it, he resumes his thrusting, only faster and deeper. I hear slapping of his flesh against mine over my high-pitched screams, the thick scent of our sex saturating the room. My orgasm erupts as I clench down on his cock and his fingers. I want to drop my head against the pillow and bite it, but he doesn’t let go of my hair. I want to rub my clit, but my hands are still bound. I settle for grinding into him like some kind of sex-crazed animal, consumed by my need.
Vol keeps driving in and out for what feels like an eternity. He could probably do this for days on end without stopping; I’d be happy to find out, if I thought I’d live to tell the tale. At some point, he gives me one last thrust, and then he comes. He pulls out as he climaxes, shooting his warm seed everywhere, leaving me breathless, a sweaty, sticky, satisfied mess.
With a thought he unlocks all my chains, then collapses next to me on the bed, holding me until we both pass out.
* * *
Vol wakes me with a kiss. “How do you feel, pet?”
“Sore,” I reply. “Everywhere.”
He laughs, carefully gathering me in his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned and fed. You’ll feel better.”
“I didn’t say I felt bad,” I retort, grinning wickedly.
Shaking his head, Vol carries me to his room’s cleaning station. The stream of water feels incredible; when Vol orders me to be still and to let him wash me, I don’t argue. However, thinking about the events of yesterday makes me curious about what comes next.
“Now that you’ve defeated Al-Quansa, are you going to go after more terrorists?”
“According to our intelligence, the smaller networks are already disbanding, not wanting to share the same fate. We’ll mop up whoever’s left, but it won’t be our primary objective.”
I nod, inhaling the delectable fragrance of the liquid soap Vol’s using to lather my body.
“What’s that, then?”
Vol smiles, and his eyes light up with righteous hunger. “The new objective will be toppling regimes—entrenched dictators who oppress their citizens and live in luxury while the populace starves.”
Oh.
“That’s going to cause… chaos,” I say, unsure how else to describe it. “This escalation… are you sure the world is ready?”
“I think so. This is just like
Al-Quansa, but on a larger scale. People will be happy to see tyrants overthrown.”
“Except the tyrants, I guess. What will happen to them? And what about the Al-Quansa members? Where are they now?” With everything happening so quickly, I hadn’t given the matter much thought.
Vol shuts off the cleaning station so we can dry off. “If you want to see them, I’ll show you.”
* * *
Once we’ve dressed and eaten—eggs, toast, and bacon procured from Earth to give me a taste of home—we catch a shuttle to another starship. Much larger than Redeemer, the Delegate Prime is apparently one of the most important vessels in Vol’s fleet. Carrying an elite battalion of Dominar warriors, a company of social engineers and all the orbital firepower an invasion could require, the ship will help complete Vol’s conquest and enforce the transition of power to the Dominars.
“Is it a really big ship?” I ask, biting my lip.
No one else is on board the shuttle with us, save the pilot—but we’re separated from the cockpit and have our privacy.
Not that that matters to Vol.
“It’s big, but we have far, far bigger,” he replies, pulling me onto his lap. “You play your cards right and I’ll show you.”
I can feel his erection through his clothes, but before we can have any fun the pilot announces we’ve docked with Delegate Prime.
“Later, Jillian,” Vol says, sobering up. “This is important.”
We exit the shuttle and make our way through the new ship, and for a second I wonder how many humans can claim they’ve been aboard multiple alien spacecraft, let alone one. However, I quickly discover that the answer to my question is: lots.
Vol leads me into some kind of massive processing center where hundreds of humans appear to be waiting for something.
“This is them?” I ask. “Al-Quansa?”
A few of them hear me speaking and look up. I nearly look away, but with Vol at my side, I know I have nothing to fear. I’ve just never seen a terrorist in person. They’ve been given matching outfits—plain white shirts and pants—and look surprisingly calm. I look through their ranks and notice they all appear healthy. “Where are the wounded?”
“There aren’t any,” Vol replies. “The few who were injured in the raids have since been treated by our medical staff. The worst they found were some broken bones and some bruises. Most of them were stunned by my squad and weren’t hurt at all.”
We head deeper into the facility, where inmates stand in a long, winding line. At the end of it, a red-skinned Dominar asks questions, then hands the prisoner a small brown duffel bag. After that, the inmate proceeds into a cell block.
“What’s this? Where are they going?”
“They’re being given a pack of supplies and directed to a temporary holding area,” Vol explains. “Here they’ll wait until the prison transports arrive.”
As he speaks, one of the prisoners suddenly bolts from the line and rushes toward us. Vol steps in front of me protectively, but the man drops to the ground long before he can reach us. He clutches at the telering locked around his neck, screaming from what sounds more like fury than pain.
“Back in line, human!” a Dominar guard growls at the man.
Vol must see the shock in my expression and the anger in my eyes, because he wraps his arm around my shoulder and holds me tight. “Don’t feel bad for that man,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” I reply. “I don’t.”
I know Vol is right—that man is a terrorist who probably committed or conspired to commit some truly evil deeds. I’m not sympathizing with him, but I do feel repulsed by the way the guard called him human—as though it was something derogatory.
The man returns to the line looking defeated; those around him seem to be feeling exactly the same.
“And you’re sure that these men were all involved with the terrorists? There’s no one here who just was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
Vol takes my hand and looks me in the eye. “No, I promise you all of them are guilty. We used nanites to scan their brains before they were ever brought on board. There’s no one here who doesn’t deserve to be. Only those who would exploit the defenseless and harm the innocent.”
“Good,” I mutter. “But what are the supply packs for?”
“That’s to help them get started on Cetaski. Mostly tools and educational programs.”
Huh?
“What’s Cetaski?”
Vol smiles and summons a hologram before our eyes: a planet that looks to be mostly desert and ocean. “Prison planet Cetaski is sparsely inhabited right now, so the first groups to arrive shouldn’t have too much trouble settling in.”
I let go of his hand, my jaw hanging slack as I stare at the slowly spinning hologram. “They’re going to another fucking planet?”
“That’s correct. They will live out their lives on a remote world, unable to destroy the lives of good people back on Earth. How they choose to live out there will be nobody’s business but their own.”
Holy fuck.
“And watch your tone, pet,” Vol adds.
“No,” I snap. “I know these are bad people, but you can’t send them to another goddamn planet! It’s not right!”
Vol grabs my arm and twists it behind my back. He leans in until I can feel his warm breath on my neck. “And what about bombing schools and buses? Shooting up marketplaces? You’d agree that’s not right, yes?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, jerking helplessly in his grip.
“And you would agree that the people who commit such acts should be imprisoned?”
“Yes.”
“So then what does it matter where they are kept, so long as the rest of the world is kept safe?”
Sighing, I swallow my anger. “It just seems wrong, sir. Earth is still their home.”
Vol lets go of my arm. “Not anymore. Earth belongs to the Dominars, and humans are subjects of our empire. Those who can’t abide by our law and our rule will be sent to Cetaski or one of many other prison worlds.”
“And if none can, what then? Will you send all of us away?” I don’t care what kind of punishment I invite—I need to know what the Dominars have planned for my people.
Vol takes a deep breath, then nods. “Yes. Earth is more important to the Dominar Empire than humanity,” he admits.
For a minute I just stare, feeling almost as if I’ve just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. My gut twists and I swallow down a surge of bile.
They can’t force us from our planet. It’s unthinkable! I don’t care what he says, Earth is our home!
“Commander Vol, send me back to Earth,” I say, fighting to keep my voice level. “I can’t be here anymore.”
I expect Vol to grab me and discipline me here in front of all these people, but I say it anyway. I’ve never felt so homesick in all my life. However, Vol surprises me.
“I know this is very upsetting, Jillian,” he says. “We don’t want humanity to go anywhere. We want your species to thrive, on Earth, with our guidance. But this future is something you have to earn, and only time will tell if you’re capable of that.”
“How much time, Vol?” I shout, blinking away tears. “Should the world start packing its bags?”
“Lower your voice, Jillian,” he replies. All around us, the men waiting for processing are watching and listening. They don’t need to speak English; my fury needs no translation.
I turn to the members of Al-Quansa and raise my hands to the sky. “Don’t worry. The rest of us are probably going to join you soon enough! Apparently you murderous assholes are just the cream of the crop, and the rest of us are catching up!”
“Jillian, calm yourself. That’s not what I said. Humanity will have ample time to prove it can change—”
“Ample time? This is our home! We will work to be better, Vol, but if we need more time, than that’s that! We’re not going anywhere!” I point to the prisoners. “These people may be our worst, but even they could learn that
they were wrong. How can they do that if they’re cast away forever?”
Vol marches up to me and grabs my arm. “That’s up to them. They’re not going to Cetaski to learn the error of their ways; they’re going so they can’t hurt any humans on Earth.”
“But why get rid of our worst people if you’re just going to take their place?”
Some of the prisoners gasp, some even laugh. They can see the look on Vol’s face; his volcanic glare could burn through a mountain. Do they think he’s about to beat me, or throw me in a dark cell and leave me to starve? I almost expect him to slap me, so I stare him right in the eye.
“We’re leaving, pet,” he says instead, dragging me away. “We can discuss this further once you’ve calmed down.”
Surprised by his patience, I nod. However, before I can take a step, a shout goes up from the line of prisoners. Arms raised to the sky, dozens of them call out what sounds like a battle cry, then scatter as one, rushing the Dominar guards. All they have are their fists and the supply packs they were given, but they attack anyway.
The Dominar guards turn the facility into a tempest of streaking energy, mowing the prisoners down with bright white stun bolts. Vol adds his gun to the mix, hiding me behind his back and spraying fire with his sidearm. For the second time in as many days, the members of Al-Quansa get knocked out, falling unconscious in seconds. Though the fight seems to go by in slow motion for me, it begins and ends in less than a minute. When it’s over, more than a hundred men lie on the ground asleep; only a handful took to their knees in surrender.
“Is everyone okay?” Vol asks.
“Yes, sir,” says the lead guard, a Dominar with an unusually pale, grim face. “No injuries, no casualties, us or them.”
“Good. Resume their processing as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vol turns to me, activating my telerings. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. I know what’s coming next.
Chapter Eleven
His Human Conquest Page 8
