Our story might have ended there, with our race dying out eventually, miserably, except for one thing. They needed our women. You see, twenty years ago we flooded their planet with a virus that caused their females to miscarry any embryos that began developing as female. Why not all babies? Well, the scientists told us, that was a scenario that would end in chaos and destruction on the planet and ruin it for us. So better to "help" the species die out more gradually with one missing sex. Scientists had long ago figured out how to create an embryo with only the mother's DNA, so males could die out and the species would still probably survive. But no one, on either planet, had figured out an artificial womb that could take a baby from conception to birth. And so the females were chosen be exterminated, slowly. From the oldest fertile woman to the youngest newborn baby girl, the virus destroyed something in their DNA. Though they could become pregnant with females, the embryos would not survive. Those newborn baby girls were now about twenty of our years old. In thirty more years, one would give birth to the final male, who would live about seventy years. In one hundred years, their species would be gone, leaving a perfectly preserved, empty, green planet for us.
That was the plan.
Instead there emerged on their planet an entire generation of rage-filled young males who had no mates and who were furious at us for what we'd done. Within a few years there were enough of them to defeat us.
Talk about ironic. We created the army that destroyed us.
Remember how I said they looked almost like us? Well, turns out that wasn't just cosmetically. There were a few differences, but after some experiments, it became obvious that we women, who hadn't been exposed to the virus, could carry their embryos and give birth to the female children their own females couldn't carry. We could also mate with the males and give birth to hybrid children. So now the people who hated us for destroying their lives needed our help to rebuild it. Five years ago they had shown up with no warning to offer a very few of us a proposal: a one-way ticket off our dying planet.
There was no shortage of women to volunteer. To move to a healthy planet and have healthy children? Every woman on our planet was vying for the opportunity. It wasn't that easy though – the aliens may have needed us, but they resented us, and they were going to make it as difficult as possible, in ways that we had no idea of.
Which is how I found myself lined up with nine other women, in front of a hostile crowd of aliens spewing venom and hate, waiting to be punished for the sins of my people.
Once again, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start the story at the recruitment center, back on the gray world that was my home.
Chapter 2 – No Defiance Allowed
"Streep"
I looked around at the other women standing near me in the enormous room to see if anyone else understood the single word uttered by the tall alien in front of us. Everyone seemed as confused as me.
"Streep!" He moved over to the woman nearest him and without warning yanked her shirt up and off, eliciting a shriek as she tried to cover her suddenly exposed breasts. He moved to her waist to do the same thing to her pants, but she backed up into the woman behind her and out of his reach. He growled and reached for her arm, twisting it around and behind her, forcing her to bend forward. His large hand swung down and smacked her clothed ass with a crack that made her screech. He let her go and looked up at the stunned group.
"Streep!" Suddenly his meaning became crystal clear and five hundred women moved as quickly as they could to strip off their tired-looking clothing. About half the women tried to cover their breasts with one hand and their pubic region with the other; the rest of us figured it didn't matter.
I had said that every woman was vying for the chance to get off our planet. Obviously, not every woman could. The aliens had strict limits. Every six months, one of their ships would show up randomly across our planet, leading to a hysteria in the region. Thousands of women flocked to the recruitment centers knowing that only about one in ten would be selected. Detailed and graphic descriptions of the exams they went through were recounted by the rejected women, often laced with bitterness towards the ones who were selected. The aliens didn't share exactly what criteria they were using, so no one knew why one woman would be chosen and the other nine rejected.
The aliens didn't share anything, in fact. They never spoke our language except for the odd word like "streep". Only the few of our people who interacted with them daily spoke any part of their language. The details of exactly what would happen to us if we were picked was a closely guarded secret. Not even the women who walked out at the very end could remember what it was that made them reject the offer, and it was clear that their memories had been tampered with.
We stood in the cold room for another few minutes before a door opened and a handful of alien males walked in. Most were a lot taller than us; they all had a lot more hair all over their bodies, and some had the oddest colored eyes that I couldn't decide were scary or captivating. Without a word, they moved among the women, firmly pulling down hands trying to cover breasts. One woman resisted, and when he gripped one of her arms firmly her hand swung up to slap his face. The sound echoed across the room in the sudden stillness.
Once again the speed at which the alien moved was astonishing. He dropped to one knee, dragged the stunned woman over the other knee, managed to pin both of her hands to the middle of her back, and smacked her bare ass with his hand. The sound reverberated around the room. He smacked and he smacked, and it didn't take a xenobiologist to read the anger on his face. She screeched and she screamed and she tried to apologize. Eventually he dumped her on the floor. He stood up and said something in his language, and though none of us understood the words, we all got the meaning clearly.
Defiance will be punished -- harshly.
Now, one thing I haven't been clear about yet is that we were all there as volunteers. No one had to stay. The doors weren't locked; no one had taken away our clothes. Any one of us – or all of us – could have walked out the door right then. And fourteen women did just that. But four hundred and eighty six did not, including the woman who had just been beaten.
Did I mention that we were desperate to get off our planet?
Every woman who remained held her hands at her side, some balled into fists, some holding back sobs, as the males resumed their inspections. Large hands cupped breasts. Strong fingers tweaked nipples whose owners bit back squeals more or less successfully. A few women even let out soft moans of arousal. The touches moved down from the breasts, over stomachs, to between our legs. Noises of protest were quickly stopped with a cold glare. More women picked up their clothes and fled.
The alien standing in front of me looked down at me in the eye as he cupped my mound. I made no noise until he slipped a finger between my folds and very deliberately pushed it up inside. Then I let out a squeak of protest, but mindful of the brutality I'd just witnessed, made no move to prevent him. He continued to stare at me, almost daring me, until he seemed to grow bored and moved on.
A thought occurred to me. We women were considerably smaller than these large, hairy aliens. How would we bear such large children? I had to believe that they would have figured that out – if only for the fact that the long round-trip to our planet meant we weren't exactly disposable. So I was reassured, sort of. Truth was, I was taller and broader than most of the women here. I had hated that all my life. I was never delicate or graceful – not that grace had any place in the life of simple survival that we all lived these days. About the only benefit to being graceful was if you could catch a man's eye and come under his protection. Which I had not. My hair was also more reddish than most, something that made me stand out too much for my own good. I know that our people used to be all colors and sizes because I saw pictures in the library once of people who looked nothing like us, who had hair of all different colors, and who were much taller than us. Between the diseases, the century-long food shortage, and the complete cloud cover over the entire planet that fi
ltered out any direct sun, we were universally pale with light brown to blonde hair, and a lot shorter than we used to be.
There were always the odd exceptions, like me.
Finally the male who had ordered us to strip said something to the other males. They all pulled back and silently filed out of the room. He picked up a sheaf of papers and began calling out names. Each woman would exit the room as her name was called. Finally I heard mine – kind of.
"Lee-na"
I looked around for Lina but no one moved.
"Lee-na"
I gathered my courage and spoke up, hoping my guess was right.
"Lay-eena" I pronounced carefully. He furrowed his brow.
"Lee-na" he repeated with emphasis.
"No, Lay-eena" I repeated. My name was Leina, and he was going to pronounce it right or I wouldn't answer to it. We stared at each other for a moment.
"Lay-eena!” he snapped, and followed it with some gibberish. I didn't know what the hell he'd said, but he'd pronounced my name right and he sounded annoyed, so I scurried out the door.
Chapter 3 – The Alien with the Strange Eyes
I found myself herded into a large room filled with exam tables already partially occupied by women flat on their backs with their knees spread. I wasn't too surprised by this – if we were going to bear children for them it was pretty plain they would want to check out the merchandise before going to the trouble of exporting it. I was pointed to a table by another hairy male and when I settled on my back my legs were grabbed and roughly spread apart and he made a gesture that I took to mean “don’t move”. At least he hadn't made me put my feet up in the stirrups that sat to either side of my knees. He moved on. I lay listening to the sounds of women groaning and protesting from exams I couldn't see. Eventually I tired of having my legs spread and I let them fall off the edge of the short table to dangle while I waited. Out of nowhere two males appeared and before I realized what they were doing both feet had been tossed into the stirrups and secured. One male swung his large flat hand down onto the tender skin between my legs.
"Ow! Goddammit!" I screeched. I reared up and grabbed his hand. He growled something at the other male and my arms were yanked over my head and my wrists fastened to something. For good measure, a belt appeared from under the table and was strapped over my hips, pinning them down. I lay there looking up at them, trying to catch my breath, and once more a pair of strangely colored eyes bored into mine. More words of protest rose to my lips – my mother had taught me a number of colorful phrases during her life – but they died as he held up something large and round with a strap attached and I realized he was showing me a gag. I bit back the protest, shut my mouth firmly, and looked down, hoping that would be enough to show my obedience. He put the gag down and walked away.
Did I mention we'd volunteered for this?
For the moment, though, I was a captive. It seemed I was going to go through with this exam whether I wanted to or not. All around me the noises were increasing. Strange buzzing noises, small sounds of protest, groans as private spaces were probed, and remarkably, sounds of what seemed to be women unsuccessfully stifling orgasms.
Oh, great. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the noises coming from all around me. There were other slaps and screeches, sounds of protest, and more than one "The hell with this! I'm done!" followed by a slamming door.
After an eternity, I sensed the presence next to me and took a peek. Two of the large males stood over me, including the one with the strange eyes. There was a tray of equipment at their side. The male with the eyes wasted no time picking up a syringe and advancing in my direction. I tried to pull away but it was fruitless and the needle went in my arm. It didn't really hurt; it was the principle of the thing, you see; injecting me with something before discussing it was kind of rude. As soon as he was done he pulled on a glove and inserted a large finger right up the channel between my legs. He wasn't particularly gentle as he probed. After a pause a second finger joined the first. I was feeling weirdly full. His other hand pushed on my stomach as though he was trying to get the two hands to meet in the middle. A third finger shoved its way in and I groaned. He smiled as he pulled that third finger out and I suddenly felt it at my much smaller entrance below.
"Oh, no, shit!" I yelped as the finger pushed its way in to my rear despite my desperate attempt to keep it out. That particular kind of sex had never appealed to me. I tried to pant to ignore the confusing sensations running rampant through the lower half of my body. "That doesn't have anything to do with having a baby and you know it, you pervert!"
He frowned at my angry tone and since I couldn't stop him anyway, I changed tactics. "You know what? You're a first-class sonofabitch," I said conversationally, my tone now giving away no hint of rebellion. "I'll bet you do this to your sister, too, don't you?" His smile didn't falter as he probed deep inside. I tried to thrust my hips up to relieve the pain but the strap around my hips stopped me. "If I ever meet you in a dark alley," I continued with a smile on my face, "I'll do my best to twist your balls around your neck until you scream."
His gaze was locked onto mine, one edge of his mouth quirked up. He's enjoying this! my mind registered, as his thumb started to massage my clit. Now I really wanted to buck up off the table but I couldn't. He seemed to know exactly how to rub that small spot – not too hard, not too soft, and maybe it was the intensity of his gaze, or the presence of his fingers, but something caused me to rocket up to the top in record speed.
And there he stopped, pulled his fingers out, and left me hanging on the precipice. This time I made no effort to hide my feelings. "Bastard!" I screeched, trying to squirm around enough to finish the job, oblivious to the stares and attention my outburst had generated.
"I tell you– " his accent was thick but completely understandable, "– my father and my mother were legally bound before I was born. And I do not have sister, but if I did I put her across my knee and spak her hard for using such bad words."
My mouth dropped open. We'd always been told the aliens had a great disdain for speaking our language, and indeed, his colleagues looked angry at him for talking to me.
"We finish?" he asked. "There are more." He didn't wait for my reply, but reached over to the small table and picked up something that looked like a really big dildo with a long cord attached. Suddenly his three fingers didn't seem like a big deal.
He must have decided I was fun to talk to because he continued. "I put my – what are these?" He held up his hand and wiggled it.
"Fingers," I managed to squeeze out.
"Fin-gers. Yes. I put my fin-gers inside you to see if you are wet. You become quite wet.”
I didn't know what to say to an observation like that.
He proceeded to place the large probe at the entrance to my cunt. My eyes widened at the feel.
"That's too big!"
"It is as big as we are." I swear he looked amused. "Do you not want to find out now if you can open to our, um, big-ness?" he asked awkwardly. Again he didn't wait for an answer but increased the pressure, and my traitorous folds obligingly parted. I began to pant as I felt the huge object slide up inside. I was stretched beyond anything I'd ever felt. I was also aroused beyond anything I'd ever felt.
"And now we give you a -- hmm, I do not remember the word -- to see what all the parts inside do." He pointed to a screen on the table that showed what I assumed were my insides. Apparently the dildo doubled as a camera.
What is he going to do now? I wondered, when his fingers started their dance on my clit again and my question was answered. I knew he was going to finish it this time, and it was going to be big, courtesy of the thing shoved between my legs, and I really didn't want to do this in public, so I pushed the impending orgasm back, as hard as I could. Suddenly I felt a hard slap on one breast. The sensation was enough to pitch me over the edge. I screamed.
As I came down and began to breathe again, it was obvious they were no longer paying attention to me. Well, n
ot to my emotional state, that is. They were gathered around the screen that showed my insides and were talking rapidly back and forth. An argument began, with both males gesticulating wildly and occasionally pointing to me. Finally the one who had not spoken to me shook his head and packed up the equipment, and walked away. I was alone with the male with strange eyes.
"Lee-na, we have decided–"
"It's Lay-eena."
His hairy brow furrowed for just a moment and he looked like he was about to reprimand me. Instead he nodded. "Lay-eena, we wish to offer you a new home."
I stared at him. "Seriously?" I gasped.
He looked confused. "What is seriously?"
"You are telling me the truth?"
Now he really looked angry. "I do not lie, and if you ever suggest that again I will spak you. Hard."
"Spank."
"What?"
"You keep saying 'spak'. It's spank. You'll spank me, hard."
He looked as though that's what he wanted to do right then, so I backed up a bit. "I'm sorry. I have trouble keeping my mouth shut sometimes."
"You will want to learn that. There are many men on our planet and they do not like to be challenged." He freed all my straps and abruptly pulled me up to a sitting position. "Take this–" he shoved a folder into my hand "–and go over there." He pointed in a different direction than the fleeing women had gone.
I took a last look at him and with a deep breath, I walked over to the door. My whole life was about to change.
Chapter 4 – Leaving Home
That was how I found myself on a spaceship headed for another planet. I had been ready to go the moment I'd walked through the door of the processing room. There was no one to say a final goodbye to, no one who would care that I'd never be back.
Twist (A BDSM & Romantic Erotica Boxed Set) Page 2
