Glowering at him, I bite my tongue, not having anything nice to say.
‘Minor stipulation,’ my ass.
* * *
We take a shuttle north to Manhattan; the trip only takes a minute. Descending on a quiet street in the Village, I smooth out my black business suit and realize that between me and Tamrys, we’re going to stick out quite a bit—even for New York.
The craft lands right in the middle of the street, the only space large enough in the area to accommodate a vehicle of its size. It doesn’t take long for blocked traffic to start honking—do they realize that they’re looking at an alien vessel? Does it even matter?
“I don’t think you can park here,” I grouse as we get out.
Tamrys grins, and then the ship rises up behind us, flying out of view. “No problem. And watch your attitude, pet.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, forcing myself not to mutter.
“So, we’re out,” he says, extending his hand for me to take. “What would you like to do? I imagine you’re hungry.”
I let him hold my palm and set our walking pace. Looking around, I see a few people staring at us, but most are continuing onward, either oblivious or apathetic to the giant alien waltzing down the street.
“Yeah, I’m famished, actually.” I didn’t get to eat very much of that bowl of fruit salad, an incident I hope never to speak or think of again.
Tamrys reaches into the jacket of his suit; a toned-down version of his consul uniform, the bespoke outfit still flatters his magnificent physique while giving him an air of authority and strength. He takes out a wallet and opens it, showing me a sizable wad of currency from a variety of nations. At the front of the stack I spot a hundred-dollar note, one of many. “We can go wherever you like,” he says.
Mentally running through the list of places I know in the city, I realize all of them are upscale bistros and steakhouses favored by visiting diplomats. Tamrys wants to experience the real world of humanity—and I wouldn’t mind going somewhere I can try to relax.
“Can you ask your nanites to find the closest diner?” I ask.
Smiling, Tamrys nods. “Done. Follow me.”
* * *
Walking a few blocks to the place Tamrys finds, I can’t help feeling like everyone is staring at me. Forget about the seven-foot-tall alien holding my hand—I’m panting and walking funny with every step, feeling the phallus locked inside me. It has to be showing on my face, and that’s why people are looking, I tell myself, even if it’s patently ridiculous.
Eventually we reach a hole in the wall where the cook works the griddle less than ten feet from our booth. It’s a tiny diner, but the smells of bacon and waffles practically make me drool, giving me a short reprieve from thinking about how turned on I am. Sitting down gingerly, I suppress my groans and try not to fidget. Something this inconvenient shouldn’t be this hot, I lament, biting my lip.
The middle-aged waitress who fills our coffee hardly takes a second look at Tamrys, despite his turquoise skin and the fact he’s so muscular he barely fits in his seat. I have to suppress a laugh—he almost looks like he’s an adult at a child’s tea party. Regardless, I’m sure our waitress has served far weirder-looking patrons while working here—they say New Yorkers have seen everything, and I guess this proves it.
Tamrys opens the menu, chuckling to himself.
“What?”
“A food catalog written on processed wood fiber. It’s quaint,” he says.
“Do Dominars use nanites for everything?”
Tamrys shrugs. “Why wouldn’t we?”
When the waitress comes around, he orders a burger and fries, while I ask for the chicken parm with spaghetti.
“That sounds pretty good,” he says, handing back his menu.
“It’s my favorite. My mother used to make it for me all the time. She had the best recipe.”
“I’ll make sure it’s added to the menu at the Spire.”
“Thanks, that’s sweet of you.”
He sips his coffee and nods. “Of course, it’s no problem.”
Our food doesn’t take long to prepare, and when Tamrys sees his burger, his eyes widen and he smiles like he’s just spotted an old friend.
“You like burgers?” I ask.
“Beef and potatoes,” he replies, stuffing a napkin into the collar of his jacket to make a bib—as if he couldn’t look any more like something from another planet. “When you visit a primitive world you last saw centuries ago, finding the foods you liked on your last visit is not always possible. But here on Earth, I’ve always been able to find and enjoy beef and potatoes.”
We dig in, moaning at every delicious bite. He tells me what it was like to try and get a good meal on Earth in the 1600s, and I recall a few more of the dishes Mom used to make for me.
But when we finish our meals, my thoughts turn back to my situation. “Tamrys, can I ask you a serious question?”
“Sure,” he says, polishing off the last of his fries.
“Is this what my life is going to look like from now on? Spending most of my time tucked away in your stronghold, having a chaperone whenever I go outside… should I be preparing to live this way for a long time?”
Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Tamrys clasps his hands together on the table. “Sabine, we’ve only just started getting to know each other; we’re still building trust. I want this arrangement between us to be fair, so you have my word that in time I will grant you more privileges and freedoms.”
“And I build trust by being your obedient sex toy?”
“No, by helping me establish a lasting peace on Earth.”
Oh.
“Good,” I reply. “That’s why I agreed to your partnership in the first place.”
“Exactly. Being my obedient sex toy will have other benefits,” he says, activating the vibrator.
Caught off-guard, I let out a high-pitched yelp at the same time as I jump in my seat, rattling the plates and silverware on the table.
“It’s fine, I’m okay,” I mumble, quickly checking to see how many people are looking. None are, it turns out, which is good, because the vibrator doesn’t stop right away. “Please, sir… Oh, fuck… Please, I get it!”
Mercifully, Tamrys shuts off the keeper. He gives me a couple of minutes to collect myself, ordering us dessert. When I open my eyes, the waitress sets down two giant slabs of chocolate cake.
“Thank you, sir,” I say, licking my lips.
“I’ve heard good things about chocolate cake. You’ll have to tell me if this is a good one.”
I laugh, grabbing my fork. “There’s no such thing as bad chocolate cake. Only good chocolate cake that didn’t get eaten fast enough.”
Tamrys chuckles as we eat; the cake is absolutely perfect, and I moan blissfully with every forkful.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d ask if I left the vibrator on,” he says.
“Ha. Ha.”
When we finish, he takes one of the hundred-dollar bills out of his wallet and leaves it on the table. I look up at him in shock, wondering if he bothered to look at the prices on the menu, but he just winks at me and motions for us to go.
As we step outside, I kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for that. I had a nice time.”
“You’re welcome, pet,” he says, returning my kiss. I can still taste the chocolate on his lips.
“Are you getting used to the device you’ve got on?”
“Maybe a little,” I say, rubbing my backside.
“Well, if you want to come back to the Spire, I’ll let you take it off. But if you want some time alone, it stays on. It’s up to you.”
I take a moment to act as though I’m considering both options, but my mind is already made up. “I’d like some time to myself. I need a little privacy. I can come back later tonight, if that’s okay.”
Tamrys nods. “I understand,” he says, giving me the wallet he took out earlier. “This has cash, identification, a MetroCard, and more—if you need anythi
ng else, use your nanites and I’ll make sure you get it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
A dull roar settles over us as Tamrys’s shuttle comes in to land nearby.
“You’re welcome, pet. Go have fun, do whatever you like—but don’t keep me waiting too long, or you’ll find out what else that keeper you’ve got on can do.”
Chapter Eleven
Sabine
At first, I don’t believe my eyes as I watch Tamrys climb aboard his shuttle, wave to me, and lift off. Just like that, I’m on my own, at least for a while. Or am I? Has he planted some kind of tracker in this device I’m wearing? Or through the nanites? Is he watching, or listening, even already? There’s no way to be sure.
I guess I’ll just have to behave.
Trying to be surreptitious, I reach into my suit and try one last time to dislodge the keeper, but it’s still locked on tight. Sighing, I hail a taxi and give the driver my cross streets; there’s a lot of traffic on the ride up Third Avenue, but I don’t mind.
When I get inside my apartment, I feel as though I haven’t seen it in years. It’s only been a few days, but it feels incredible to be back, even if it’s a place that’s never quite felt like home. My career has required constant travel, and I’ve slept in hotels more often than my own apartment. It’s been years and I haven’t even bothered to decorate the place; many of my belongings are still in the boxes I brought them in when I moved. I have more takeout menus in my kitchen than dishes.
None of that bothers me right now, not when there is one part of my apartment I love: my bed. Soft, queen-sized, and covered in pillows, I can’t wait to dive in for a nap. Even the toy sealed in my pussy doesn’t bother me much as I undress. Climbing under the covers, I sigh and shut my eyes. Within minutes, I’m out.
* * *
Don’t stop, that feels amazing.
Waves of pleasure erupt inside me, stemming from a powerful vibration coming from between my legs. Grinding my hips into the sensation, I reach for my hot, drenched pussy, wanting to rub my clit. Instead, I feel something cool and flat.
What is…
The unexpected barrier rouses me from my sleep, and I remember I’m still wearing the keeper. It’s buzzing with energy, sending pulses of bliss throughout my body. My hands move to my breasts, massaging them and caressing my erect nipples. Curling my toes, I pant and groan, clenching down hard on the alien invention.
With a start, I realize that I’m getting close to coming—am I supposed to ask permission, even if Tamrys isn’t around?
Sir, may I come? I try asking through the nanites. After a second, I get no response.
Fuck, what am I supposed to do? Hold off until I hear back, or just enjoy it? I writhe around in bed, trying to lessen the power of the keeper, but nothing I do matters. Moaning in fear and confusion, I close my eyes and start to feel my resistance slip…
And then everything stops; the vibrator deactivates. I pound a few times against the device, but I can’t get it to turn back on.
Damnit, Tamrys!
I was so close! That’s just cruel. Of course, if I want relief, I know what he would say: Come back to the Spire, pet.
Is that what I should do? Or am I utterly insane for even contemplating returning to a place where I’ve been held captive? What would happen if I tried to run? I could charter a flight to the middle of nowhere, hide somewhere off the Dominars’ radar… but I don’t think such a place exists. The whole of the Earth is under their control, and I highly doubt there’s anywhere I can go that Tamrys can’t find me.
Needing both a distraction and a little reorientation, I throw on some comfortable jeans and a T-shirt, then turn on the TV and flip around the news. Marches and protests are taking place in countries where leaders have been deposed. The new consuls are giving interviews and repeating the Dominar mantra: peace, justice, stability, and all the rest.
I nearly flip past PTZ, a seedy, sensationalist infotainment station, but it catches my attention like a punch in the gut. On screen is a recording, presumably from a cell phone, of Tamrys and me at the diner.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not something you see every day. What’s strange is that neither of us realized we were being recorded—or maybe Tamrys knew, but elected not to say anything. It would make sense that he’d want this footage to leak—for the world to see him out in public, just as he intended.
“Now this all may look pretty innocent, but watch how their meal ends,” says show host Maggie Shaw.
They fast-forward the footage, skipping to Tamrys and me leaving the diner. The camera follows us as we pass by, then moves to the window, catching the moment where I kiss him.
“What do you make of this?” asks Shaw, looking directly into the camera. “Write or call in now and let us know.”
Oh, this ought to be good.
I reach for the remote to turn this off, realizing that listening will be more upsetting than encouraging—but I stop, deciding to leave it on. Knowing what people think of Tamrys and me could provide a lot of insight into our optics.
“All right, we have our first caller, Doug from Yonkers. What’s your take on this, Doug?”
“What I want to know is, what kinda loser alien takes a hottie like that to some crappy diner?” he asks in an irritatingly nasal voice.
“That’s a good question,” says Shaw. “Do aliens think Earth women are easy? Is that what’s going on?”
“Hey!” I blurt out, even though there’s no one else in my apartment. “Screw you, Maggie Shaw!”
“I have here a comment from @DominarFan on Twitter, they say, ‘OMG she’s so lucky! I want a hot alien boyfriend!’ Interesting, that’s one way of looking at it. Okay, next caller. This is Trish from Fort Lauderdale—what do you think, Trish?”
There’s a slight delay, but then the caller begins. “This is how it begins, Maggie. The aliens are going to start breeding with us, creating a race of alien-human hybrids. After a few generations, humanity will disappear, replaced by aliens, and then Earth will be theirs. That’s how they’re going to take over the world.”
Rolling my eyes, I remember why I don’t watch PTZ: they don’t filter out the crazies.
Then again, what if Trish isn’t totally crazy?
“Next caller, this is Jerry from Boise. What do you think, Jerry?”
“I think there’s a pretty simple explanation,” the man says after clearing his throat. “Some chicks will do anything for a guy with lotsa power, and that Tamrys guy is their supreme leader, right? Hard to get more powerful than that. She probably jumped on his knob first chance she got—”
The call cuts off, and Maggie shakes her head. “Sorry, folks. You know the rules—watch the language, alright? Okay, next caller. I’m being told this is Sabine from Manhattan.”
“That’s right,” I say, the phone shaking in my hand. Considering watching the show was a mistake, I have a feeling I’m going to regret calling in, but I have to set the record straight. “This is Sabine Marchessault, the woman in that video.”
“Wow. Thank you for calling,” Shaw replies. “I know I speak for my viewers when I say we’re all very eager to hear your explanation for what’s going on in this video.”
“Yes, that’s why I called. I understand how it looks but…” Despite years of speaking on the world stage and conversing with everyone from presidents to kings, my heart races and acid rises in my throat. “But we’re not dating. That’s not what’s happening.”
“Oh?” says Shaw. “Then what were the two of you doing?”
“I was showing Executive Consul Tamrys the sort of place where most humans typically eat. In fact, it was my idea to go to a cheap diner, not his.”
One of the show’s producers splits the screen, displaying a file photo of me next to a loop of Tamrys and me kissing. “If you’re not dating, how do you explain this?” Shaw asks. “Forgive me for stating the obvious, Ms. Marchessault, but from the footage you look… well, I doubt you were strictly f
ocused on human-Dominar diplomacy. It’s pretty obvious there’s something going on between the two of you. Are you really going to deny it, Sabine?”
Shit. She has a point, though it feels wrong to call him my ‘boyfriend,’ since I’ve never thought of us like that. Shouldn’t I get to decide, and not the media? And I certainly can’t tell them I’m his pet. Most of all, of course, is that there are far bigger issues for them to worry about than whether humans and aliens are hooking up.
“At this point, I’m not going to confirm or deny anything of that nature,” I snap, glad that no one on TV can see me balling my fists. “We have a working partnership that’s spearheading a mutual endeavor to foster peace between humans and Dominars. That’s all you and your viewers need to know, Maggie.”
Whatever she says next, I don’t hear it; the probe buried in my pussy chooses that moment to activate, with a surge so powerful I drop the phone. As waves of euphoria make me groan, I could swear the phallus is not just vibrating, but growing bigger. Sweat beads on my forehead as I reach down and grab the phone.
“—lost her, I think. Are you still there, Sabine?”
“Yes, Maggie,” I say, trying to catch my breath and ignore the blissful pulses emanating from between my legs. “Sorry, I had some technical difficulties.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I don’t mind saying it a second time: you and Tamrys look pretty affectionate in this video. It’s actually kinda sweet. But we’re not naive, Ms. Marchessault. You can’t fool us. There’s something going on between you and the executive consul, something beyond the boundaries of a professional partnership.”
With my legs seconds away from buckling as ecstasy rips through my body, I have no choice but to lie down. “I can’t stop you… from speculating,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “But this is… none of your… business.”
From my position I can no longer see the TV, but I hear Maggie Shaw scoff over the phone. “Actually, if it’s related to the Dominars—who have invaded our planet, in case you’ve forgotten—then it is everyone’s business. You’re not the first human to shack up with an alien, for whatever reason. For all we know, you’re trying to screw your way into a position of power.”
His Human Mate (Captives of the Dominars Book 3) Page 8
