by Aubrey Cara
I am Monrok.
More machine than the flesh and bone of my organic origin, I do not have deficiencies or weakness.
Xanthia’s lashes flutter as her eyes open and my gut clenches. She reaches out for me, and I take her small hand in mine, relief rushing through me so quickly it takes my breath. The warmth spreading over my being has nothing to do with my internal thermal settings.
“Hello, pet.”
A feeble smile pulls at her lips. “Master,” she says on a sigh. “You came back.”
“Of course, I came back. This is my ship.”
“I was scared the Ko’sar would kill you like they did me.”
I scowl at the thought. She came too close to that being true. “You’re alive, pet. They didn’t kill you.”
“I suppose they didn’t.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Will you get rid of me for being a bad pet? Now that you know of the king’s stables?”
I’m not sure why she thinks she’s a bad pet. I have a feeling it has something to do with her fingers smelling like her cunny. I remind myself to ask later. “Do you want me to get rid of you?”
Her eyelids droop as if she’s struggling to stay awake, and she shakes her head then winces. “I wish for you to keep me, master. Even if you don’t let me touch my cunt.”
The last makes my lips twitch. “Why is that, pet?”
“Master?”
“Hmm?”
“This feels worse than when Kaihan whipped me.”
“No one will ever touch you again.” If the hadhr were alive, I’d kill him again. “You are mine, now.” Concern squeezes my chest. I stroke my hand over her soft hair. I can feel the pain radiating off her, but there’s nothing I can do. We have no pain inhibitors on this vessel.
“I like being yours,” she says, her voice small and broken. Then her eyes slide shut once more. Something light and warm twists open inside me where, once, only darkness reigned. I will never be able to leave this creature ever again.
DAG
“Your oracle saved the other females,” Ren says, standing over me, then leans in and whispers, “She also openly grieved you when we thought you were dead.”
“You hadhr thought I was dead?” My throat is raw, and it comes out all gravelly. No wonder the fucking ahehs took so long to get to me. I haven’t ached like this since my cybernetics first integrated with my body. I was without oxygen long enough for my system to go into a dormant state. I was essentially dead. I guess coming back to life is a slow, painful process. My cybernetics aren’t functioning yet, and I feel. That’s it. I fucking feel things, and it hurts.
I glance over to where my veran lies, a pang hitting me straight in the chest. Her skin, now a lighter shade of blue, appears ashen. Her thick silky hair is brilliant white. Fyhn runs the scanner over her again.
“How is she?”
“It’s difficult to know how she’s doing since we know nothing of her biological makeup. With her ability to control the atmospheric elements around her, it’s different than that of a Zapex male, and even the gearan.”
I wish I could get up and check the readouts myself. My skin itches with restlessness.
“Oh, and one other thing,” Fyhn says casually, but the smirk playing on his lips tells another tale. “She’s not spayed like most veran.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, congratulations. You are going to be a father.”
“No.” My heart lurches, a painful experience since we just got it up and running again. “That can’t be possible. She was a concubine to the king. And she’s Zapexian!”
“Ryat and I recently discovered human biology is compatible with Zapex. She likely had an implant, like the one our Bek’a has. But if your veran ever had one it was obviously removed at some point.”
A rusty laugh that makes me ache all the way to my toes rumbles my chest, until it shakes my whole body.
“What’s the matter with him?” One of the pups asks. They’re all crowded into medical bay along with their pets who are hovering near Lyhnx’s pet, and my Vera, my breeding veran.
“I’m breeding a veran.”
Tal’s eyebrows go up. “I didn’t think it was possible to breed a veran.”
My chest swells with pride, and I grab my crotch. “Proof my cock can accomplish impossible feats.”
Everyone snickers, like I knew they would.
“Do you think it’s going to be blue?” asks one of Screvan and Tal’s pets.
That makes me sober. I’ve essentially bred a Zapexian female. Our hybrid will be the only one of its kind, and may not be well received. “I guess we’ll find out when he is born.”
“She,” Vera says, her eyes still closed, her hands still limp at her sides. “We will discover she is blue, when she is born.”
“That’s unfortunate.” I don’t think I like the idea of having a girl, blue or not.
Vera’s eyes blink open, and she glares at me. Such a high-tempered female.
“I’m glad I still live, if only to enjoy you longer, pet.” At my words, her gaze softens and her lips twitch. It’s like a kick to the gut. She thought I was going to die. I could tell from the anxious way she tried to get me to go with her onto the guard ship. She will be punished for her lack of faith in me when lifting my hand doesn’t send a spike of pain through my system.
My eyes meet Lyhnx’s. “We should to return to Kadeema. She’ll need to be safely hidden away before she starts showing.”
“Agreed,” he says. “We need to return there anyway. Xanthia told me something interesting while we were on King Thaain’s ship. Have any of you heard of the king’s stables?”
All the Monrok shake their heads, but the pets look at each other in some kind of female communication. They seem tight lipped, their little brows drawn down with displeasure. Now, I am curious to know why the mere mention of these stables upset the females.
“They are breeding farms where the king keeps his livestock, both human and otherwise,” Vera says, catching everyone’s attention.
“Breeding farms?” Ren asks.
Vera shrugs. “The king had made advancements he never shared with Prince Kaihan in the reproduction of all sorts of species. The king knew his oldest son had become unbalanced.”
“Do you know where the stables are located?” Lyhnx asks.
“They’re on a station right outside of Earth’s galaxy, near an unmarked wormhole. That’s how he’s kept it secret.”
“Who knows of this place?”
“That I do not know. His most trusted gearan mainly.”
“An entire station ran by gearan?” Screvan asks, his tone conveying how incredulous he found the concept.
“They are as intelligent and capable as any Zapex,” Vera says, her voice dripping with scorn.
“We need to tell the Monrok on Kadeema,” Lyhnx continues, ignoring Vera and Screvan’s squabble. “They’ll want to know. Possibly form a party for raiding the king’s stables.”
“There is a possible problem,” Vera says.
Lyhnx quirks a brow. “Do tell.”
“The Ko’sar you killed was learning Xanthia when I attacked it. It was obvious it had never seen a human. It also ripped into her mind.”
There are more than a few muttered curses of frustration. The Ko’sars now knew about humans. The aliens have hive cognition, or collective minds. If one thinks it, they all know it. If one rips into someone’s mind and sifts their thoughts and memories, everyone in the hive will have that same knowledge. It’s why they are so technologically capable and advanced.
“Luckily, her infantile mind does not know much,” Lyhnx says.
The little pink-haired pet scowls at him, and I chuckle. “She knows enough to know when she’s being insulted,” I say. “But whether she unknowingly revealed the location of the king’s stable or not is beside the point. The Ko’sar are going to be curious about humans now. They’re going to want to know why they’re here, and what purpose they serve. And,
above all, they’re going to find Earth. And when they do…”
“They’re going to take it,” Lyhnx says with dawning realization.
“Well,” Tal says, with a cocky grin. “The retrieval of an unknown number of humans from some station in the quadrant right outside Earth’s galaxy, surrounded by Zapex guard stations, was really too easy. Why not add some Ko’sars into the mix?”
“It is not our problem, anyway,” Ren points out from where he lounges against the wall, his female draped over him. “We already have females of our own.”
“You are right,” Lyhnx says. “Now our only problem is convincing those crazy hadhrs on Kadeema to allow us to stay without sharing our females with another Monrok mating partner.”
“Speak for yourselves,” Ryat says, with a smug grin. Fyhn, who has his arms around their female, bumps shoulders with him in solidarity. I look around the room and realize their pairing will be the only conventional one of our group. Tal and Screvan are a pair, but so are their females.
“There is one way to learn of how our welcome will be received,” Vera says suggestively. She’s off her hover pad and now trying to climb onto mine. She rubs her face over my cheeks and neck, down to my chest, her hair fluttering all around us and caressing me in swirls.
Tal remarks, “I didn’t know that’s how Zapex show affection.”
Screvan scoffs. “I didn’t know Zapex showed affection at all.”
I ignore the pups, too focused on my veran’s amorous attentions. “Careful, pet. I’m feeling each and every one of my seventy-five solars.”
“Seventy-five? Is that all?” she asks with a wicked gleam in her eye. She runs her hands over my sculpted chest, her heated gaze wandering over me. “You may feel feeble now, but you still look like a god…master.”
“Everyone out of medical,” I growl. “Now.” It’s time for some oracle pussy. I may be feeling as puny as runny excrement, but only death will keep me from fucking my veran.
Xanthia
Grass is fun. But the insects are not. Yana and Trina have taken off their covering and run in the field. Mine itches me, and I want to take it off, but it makes master upset if other Monrok see me naked.
We pets keep to ourselves. Lena and her master are gone. Vera and Dag live up in the rainforest with Bek’a and her masters. They only come for visits that are too short and make me miss our veran all the more. Lyhnx says this is because Vera was like a mother to us. I don’t know what this is because I’ve never had one, but I supposedly will be one in less than eight moon cycles.
Trina, Yana, and their masters live here in the southern hemisphere with my master and I. We’re in a section of the planet that we have mostly to ourselves. We’ve met the other females, the ones from Earth, but they wear coverings all the time and speak a funny language we do not understand. Their eyes are all different colors, and their hair is shades of dirt and sun. Not jewels and flowers like us pets. When we met them, they looked at us with stormy expressions and began arguing with their masters and pointing at us. My master was quick to take us away.
We’re learning things like reading, and Earther languages, but it makes my head ache. Mostly I like when master comes “home” and plays with my cunny. Especially now that I’m not allowed to touch it myself. Since I began breeding, I’ve found my cunny needs to be touched and filled often.
I shade my eyes from the sun that lights up the big blue sky and look around the clearing in front of our abodes. Our lodges here on Kadeema are freestanding structures the men made out of wood and stone. The Monrok call them replicas of dwellings on Earth called hu-owzes. They have rooves covered in grass. Lyhnx says this is to insulate the hu-owz, and to make it blend with the landscape if anyone were to see it from the sky.
The only beings about are me and my pet sisters, so I undo the bindings of my itchy garments and let them fall to the ground. Relief rushes through me when air hits my poor, confined breasts. I give them a squeeze and rub my irritated skin that has prickled in the breeze before throwing my arms wide and spinning. I love the wide-open space of being planet side. I stop spinning and enjoy the kaleidoscope of colors swirling in my vision. Colors dance and twirl before my eyes as if I were still turning. It makes my belly flip and squirm, but I do it again. Trina and Yana laugh joining me in my spinning until we’re all stumbling and giggling.
A flutterfly with large blue wings zips past me, so close its wing brushes my cheek. I squeal in excitement, chasing after it into the wildflowers. That’s when I sense him. My master.
My heart beats triple time in exhilaration, and I want to run to him. I’ve learned over the course of our voyage here my master enjoys when I show him affection. I take one step and a flower tickles my bum. My naked bum. I freeze as if not moving will keep him from seeing me.
I twist around, frantically looking for my coverings, even as moisture pools between my legs. Master is going to punish me, but my body flushes with heat even as I worry about how he will chastise me for taking off my leathers.
LYHNX
We arrived on Kadeema three cycles ago and were granted sanctuary as long as we were willing to forfeit our ship to the Monrok wanting to search for the king’s stables. We happily handed over the vessel with the exception of a supply of nutrient shots. The pets are being slowly weaned off their normal injections as we integrate food into their diets.
Life on Kadeema is…interesting. Before, when I visited, it was but one of many planets and moons I have seen. Now, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. When we first arrived, the Earth females were upset to discover we were keeping our girls as pets. I worried we should have brought the females to Pacbar to live instead, but now I realize the capital planet would have been far too stimulating. Loud noises and being around too many beings is frightening for the sheltered pets. Here, the girls can mostly keep to themselves, while still enjoying freedoms that we wouldn’t have been able to allow them in the city.
Besides, with its sweet unfiltered air and all its wildlife, Kadeema is a better place to raise young. And it’s easier to protect them here.
Back from a hunt, I stroll across the meadow and hear squeals of laughter and merriment before I see the girls. My lips tug up at the corners. They do that often, now, as if having a life of their own.
My pet is playing amongst the flowers with Screvan and Tal’s girls. She spins, her hair fanning out, and she looks like one of the floras. My cock aches at the sight of her naked form. My naughty little pet. She has yet to grow accustomed to wearing coverings, and is regularly reprimanded for taking them off. She’s fortunate there are no other Monrok about. And that her belly is beginning to swell with my young. My scent is forever mingled with her natural floral smell, but I enjoy my claim on her becoming visible now.
I know the second she spots me. She’s chasing a delicate blue winged creature around the clearing but stops in her tracks, her violet eyes growing large. She whips around, searching the ground until she snatches up her coverings, wrapping the leather over her breasts.
“Too late, pet,” I say, now close enough to snatch the garment out of her hands, and pull her lush form against me.
Her surprised gaze meets mine before submissively dropping. “I’m sorry, master.”
“Would you rather take your punishment here or in private?” She glances up again at the question, and I can see the doubt in her eyes. I see the gears turning and know she wonders if thisis a trick. King Thaain, like all Zapex, like to play mind games. But I am not Zapex. I do not offer her one thing only to give her the opposite of what she chooses. I find the more her little belly rounds with my young, the more I want to give my pet anything she desires. Not that I would ever let her know that.
“Whatever you wish, sire.”
“That goes without saying.” I fist her hair, tilting her head back as if to kiss her. Her pupils dilate as I draw her in. My words puff against her lips. “You have twenty seconds to get yourself inside, and into position.”
I releas
e her, counting out “One,” as she turns, stumbling as she runs. “Two.” I follow at a slower pace, giving my rigid cock a squeeze in anticipation. “Three.”
Xanthia
Heart racing, I inelegantly scramble down onto our mat, thrusting my bottom into the air and spreading my thighs as master calls out fifteen. My breath comes in bursts from my run as much as anticipation.
“Twenty,” I hear him say at the doorway. Resting my cheek on my folded hands I bite my lip as master enters.
His presence crackles the air and fills our single-chambered structure. “What a lovely sight.” The coarse timbre of his voice never fails to make me shiver. “You must want me to go easy on you, pet.”
Do I? I’m not so sure. Sometimes I do. When he spanks me in front of the others, the shame of it burns me to ashes, and I want be blown away in order not to have to face everyone’s knowing looks. But here, in private, is another matter entirely.
I heard an unmistakable slide of rough leather on wood and know my master has taken the strap off the notch on the wall. He makes a snapping sound with the strip, and a shiver races down my spine. My toes curl as he makes me wait.
He gently drops the end of the strap onto my ass so it slithers overs my thigh, and I jump from nerves. He chuckles. He told me before that he is Monrok, therefore he doesn’t play cruel games of torment the way the Zapex do, but he’s wrong. He relishes tormenting me this way. He trails the strip over my thighs and ass in such a way I have to fight not to rub my thighs together. My upper body relaxes down into the mat as I hold my bottom half tense.
It makes the quick thwap of leather over my rump that much more shocking. Master swings the strap hard enough to welt my delicate skin. I hold steady, taking each strike, until he starts hitting the place where my thighs meet my ass, over and over. I squirm, whimpering. I bite my fist to keep from crying out.
