“It is,” I say at last, reaching for her hand. “But like this food, it’s much better when you’re sharing it with someone you care about.”
Jillian blushes, lips pursed in a smile. Her pupils dilate and I can feel the slight moisture of sweat in her palms, indicating arousal. I have half a mind to sweep my arm across the breakfast table and throw Jillian on top of it, then ravish her until she screams.
Later, I tell myself. First things first.
We keep eating until I’ve had my fill and she’s tried as many dishes as possible. Once we’re finished, we get dressed and I lead Jillian to the docking bay, where we board a shuttle.
“Where are we going?” she asks, taking a seat. “Delegate Prime?”
I grin, shaking my head. The shuttle lifts off, giving us a view of space and the massive vessel orbiting the Earth’s solitary moon. “That’s where.”
She turns to look, then gasps. “Is that a space station? It’s gigantic!”
Like a perfect skipping stone, the ship is long and mostly flat, tapering off around the edges. Oval in shape, with a glossy black hull lit by thousands of ports and arrays, the ship glitters like a diamond.
“It’s a colony ship,” I say. “Bountiful Harvest.”
“Colony?” she says, shivering.
“Tens of thousands of Dominars, all preparing for their posts on Earth.”
She turns to me, brows knit with worry. “Posts? Are they soldiers?”
“No, no. They’re administrators. Social workers, law enforcement officers, engineers, teachers… They’re the ones who are going to actually ensure that life on Earth follows the rules we put in place. We can’t just scoop up the bad guys, sign a treaty, and leave. Dominar presence is going to become a fact of life on Earth.”
Jillian nods. “I get it: they’re the occupation force.”
“It won’t be oppressive,” I say, adding an edge to my voice. “Ideally, it won’t even be that intrusive—but it will be noticeable. We’re not changing your society in any fundamental ways, pet. People will still have jobs, children will still go to school. Everyone will adapt to the changes, most of which people will find perfectly reasonable, since they’ll be intended to make the world better.”
“Sure,” Jillian mutters. “I hope so.”
Though I understand her concern, I’m tiring of her attitude. Taking her chin in my palm, I look into her eyes. “If we wanted to manufacture a legion of robots to govern over the Earth and make sure our bidding is followed, we could do so. Real, live Dominars are landing on Earth because they want to see the world flourish. They volunteered for this, Jillian—they’re not appointed or conscripted. And they will be judged by how well humanity adjusts to their presence.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, cleaning up her tone.
Before long, we dock with Bountiful Harvest. The ship is so massive, it would take weeks to walk from one end to the other, so we find the tram. I show her the prep center, where Dominars spend time learning about Earth. Information pours into their minds through their nanites: world history, culture, geography, anatomy, theology—anything they might possibly need to know. By the time they reach the planet, they’ll know more about it than most humans.
On our next stop, I take her to the living center. “With thousands of Dominars present, it’s equipped to keep our people comfortable. Not everyone will take positions on Earth right away, you know. Some might not even be needed. It really depends on how humans react to the transition.”
“I see,” says Jillian as we enter the ship’s central hub, a massive open space to create the feeling of being outside. “It would be strange if thousands of giant, multi-colored aliens started beaming down all at once. People would freak out.”
I chuckle, taking Jillian’s hand. “Hey, that reminds me of something I’d like to get your opinion on.”
She looks at me curiously. “What’s that?”
Activating my nanites, I call upon them to alter the pigmentation in my skin. After a couple of seconds, the natural light purple fades out, and a tan, human coloration takes its place.
“Whoa,” Jillian says. She stares at me, then looks down; seeing my human-looking hand in hers, she drops it, startled. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
I nod. “There’s a lot we can do,” I say, letting my skin return to its real appearance. “We could alter our appearance while on Earth, at least at the start, if it will make humans more comfortable. But, I’m not sure how well it would be received, especially if they knew it wasn’t real. What do you think?”
She lets her eyes wander to the hundreds of Dominars wandering around the hub, representing every pigmentation imaginable.
“What do you do on other worlds?” she asks.
Good question.
“It depends on the world. Are people there put off by beings who look exceedingly different from them, or are they more advanced than that?” I take her hand again, squeezing against my chest. “Can they empathize based on shared similarities, and put aside differences that are only… skin deep?”
Jillian gulps, her heart rate accelerating. “Which do you think we are?”
I answer her truthfully, “It’s hard to tell. But, when that happens, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. I’d like for my people not to disguise themselves.”
She smiles. “I’d like that too.”
We walk through the hub, stopping when Jillian has questions about the various stations all around us. Restaurants, theaters, clubs, music halls, athletic arenas—we share many of the same passions as humans, I explain.
“Also, robotic gladiators, virtual combat simulators, deep immersion fantasy… erotic temples…”
Jillian laughs. “What? Really?”
I lick my lips. “Of course. There’s so much to experience in this life—including sex.”
She blushes—what must she imagine goes on in an alien sex club?
“Can we… go to one?” she asks, her cheeks getting even darker.
“Oh, that can be arranged,” I say, grabbing her ass. “Another time, though. We have an appointment to make.”
“What?”
“Come on, you’ll see.”
I lead her through the hub to Gloa So-Ne, regarded as the top salon on Bountiful Harvest. Seeing rows of seats and vanities, she recognizes what it is immediately.
“Oh, wow! Really? A beauty parlor? What for?”
My cock stirs inside my pants, thinking about what I’ve got in store. “Move along, pet. You’re about to find out.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jillian
I grin uncontrollably the whole time as Gloa, a Dominar stylist, trims and shapes my hair into a beautiful, graduated bob with cinnamon ombre coloring. Vol watches, amused by my excitement, until Gloa finishes. Pink-skinned and thin as a rail, Gloa reminds me of a flamingo. Her preternaturally straight, platinum blonde hair hangs all the way down to her narrow hips, swaying gently with her graceful movements. She wears a brilliant blue, clingy, knee-length dress and a jeweled band on each finger. If she doesn’t set up shop on Earth, I’m going to be very, very disappointed.
Of course, I’m a little surprised that Dominars use actual stylists to change their hair, rather than nanites—that’s seemingly how they do everything else.
“A nanite can’t tell what looks good,” Gloa explains. “It takes a person for that—ideally one who has taste.”
I can’t really argue.
Of course, she doesn’t have scissors and combs—it’s all force fields and energy beams so gentle you can barely even feel them working. Having hair literally burned off to shorten it frightens me at first, but the results quickly put me at ease.
“Now,” says Gloa. “Get up. Strip.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do as she says, pet,” Vol orders. “She’s not finished.”
I comply with his command, but don’t get it—my hair isn’t done? And why would I need to be naked?
“Spread your
legs,” Gloa adds, crouching down before me.
My face blanches as she inspects my pussy, brushing her hand against my short, dark curls. Though I’ve kept myself reasonably groomed, Gloa scoffs in disgust.
“Vol, what’s going on?”
Gloa retrieves her hair wand and turns it to full power.
“Your master wants you clean,” Gloa responds. “He’s made a good choice.”
Whimpering, I hold still as she runs the wand across my sensitive skin, completely removing my bush. My skin tingles furiously as she works, methodically examining me and applying the wand. She doesn’t stop until she’s made certain she’s seen and sheared off every last bit of hair.
When I look to Vol, his pants bulge from a monstrous erection. If he had wanted me to shave, he could have just asked. I would have done it myself, in private. Though, judging by his reaction, he’s clearly enjoying the show.
“Lovely, pet,” he says when Gloa finishes. “This was worth the wait.”
“I’m glad you think so, sir,” I say. Admittedly, I don’t mind the look or feel of being nice and smooth. Inhaling deeply as my core warms, I ask, “Got any other surprises for me today?”
He chuckles. “Oh, lots. But I’m not telling you anything. Be patient, pet.”
“Yes, sir,” I mewl.
Gloa steps aside for a moment, but returns quickly with a long burgundy cloth of some kind. She gathers two of the ends in her hands and holds it open. “Come, put it on,” she says.
I hold out my arms as she slips the cloth over my head. It’s a gown, I realize—a very, very tight one. The elegant fabric feels like fine silk, much like their singlets, and I sigh happily as it moves over my skin.
“Wait,” Vol says as Gloa slides the garment down my body. He reaches into a satchel on the side of his belt and pulls out a butt plug.
Oh, here we go.
The toy quickly begins to glisten as oil spreads around its surface. I relax and hold still as Vol presses the plug against my hole. As much as I’ve become accustomed to the pain of having it inserted, I still can’t help groaning as my muscles stretch. Having someone else watching, particularly a Dominar I’ve only just met, adds to my humiliation. Gloa smiles, enjoying my suffering. I’d be annoyed if the familiar fullness didn’t make me wet with need.
Additionally, now that I’ve been exposed to the use of plugs for several weeks, Vol has found bigger ones to use; as soon as I can handle one size without too much discomfort, he switches to the next. Every time, I tell myself that the new one has to be the biggest one I can take—so far, I’ve yet to be right.
As soon as the toy passes its widest point, the rest quickly slides inside until the flared base rests flush against my cheeks. Moaning from the overwhelming sensation of fullness, I wince as Gloa finishes her task, extending the gown all the way to my ankles.
The dress loosens at my knees, but everything above clings to my body like a second skin. Though I’m technically covered from ankle to collar, I feel utterly naked. The singlets I’ve worn have been tight too, but at least they were practical. “You can see everything, can’t you?”
Snickering, Vol nods.
“One more thing, my love,” says Gloa, holding a pair of very high heels. “The Dominars would never invent a torture this cruel, but that’s why I love planets like Earth.”
Looking at the black heels, I realize I haven’t worn a single fashionable pair of shoes since the night of my date with Thad. Maybe I’ve been preoccupied, but I really haven’t missed them.
“Put them on, pet,” says Vol.
Maybe the nanites can do something about blisters…
I do as I’m told, putting on the heels, which add a few inches to my height. I test out walking in them and find them a lot less painful than I’d expected.
“Very pretty,” Gloa coos. “You look heavenly.”
“Thank you,” I reply, inspecting my appearance. “That’s a real compliment from someone so glamorous.”
Gloa nods, then winks at Vol. “Enjoy yourselves. Vol, try not to tear that dress off right away. She has yet to see what makes it special.”
“Of course,” he says, offering his arm for me to take.
Exiting the salon, I have to work to keep up with Vol’s pace. Every step jostles the plug in my ass, and he knows it.
“What did she mean about the dress?” I ask, once I’ve gotten down a rhythm.
“See for yourself.”
When I look down, the dress looks far more pink than burgundy. At first I wonder if it’s the light, but it’s not much brighter out in the hub than it was inside the salon. When I look down again, it now looks more lavender than pink. Is it my imagination?
“Umm… Vol? Is it…?”
“Changing colors, yes.”
Of course.
“Okay… but… why?” As I watch, the material darkens into a proper purple.
Vol rubs his chin, then shakes his head. “I could tell you, but I want you to guess. I think you’ll figure it out soon. Come along.”
I’m not sure what he means, but I follow him through Bountiful Harvest. Vol enjoys watching my awkward walk, and we pass three different tram stations before he finally lets us board one. We ride it across the length of the majestic ship, finally disembarking at the last stop.
“Whoa,” I say, stepping onto a small platform at the absolute tip of the ship’s bow, an observation platform that hangs off the hull like a balcony. In front of us, the Earth fills our sight with its tranquil beauty; we’re so close, I have to wonder if those viewing the ship through a telescope can see us. The platform has no roof, and only the tram station wall at our backs, so it looks as though we’re standing in space. Undoubtedly, there’s some kind of invisible field protecting us from the vacuum.
Then I feel something funny, and I can’t feel my feet.
I look down and see they’re still there, only they’re not on the ground—I’m floating, as is Vol.
“Holy shit, what’s going on?”
“Relax, pet. We’re in space. You’ve never experienced weightlessness.”
Waving my arms around and kicking my legs, I find I can’t really go anywhere. It’s disconcerting, but strangely fun. “Shouldn’t I be like, throwing up or something?”
Vol laughs. “Nanites, pet. They’re suppressing the effects of motion sickness. Here.”
He reaches out and takes my hand. As if we’re dancing, he twirls me around, then reels me in and holds me close, but in doing so causes us both to spin, as if on an axle. Comforted by his grip but exhilarated by the wild sensation, I cackle uncontrollably.
“Look at your dress, pet.”
I do, seeing that now it’s turned bright blue. But what does that mean? “I still don’t get it, sir.”
He turns me around and kisses me. Moaning, I lean into his hard body, feeling his member stiffening. As his tongue parts my lips, I imagine what it would be like to make love in zero gravity. When Vol reaches around to cup my ass and play with the plug, I get the sense he’s on the same page.
“Are you having some naughty thoughts, pet?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I laugh. “How could you tell?”
“Look down.”
Before my eyes, a ripple of red spreads through the fabric, starting from my crotch.
“Is it… is it changing… from what I’m feeling?”
Vol nods. “And from where you’re feeling it,” he explains, thrusting his fingers between my thighs. As he rubs me through the dress, the red shade grows deeper and advances further outward.
“Oh, god,” I mumble. “That’s crazy.”
Although I’m used to being exposed and displayed by Vol, at least I had a little privacy inside my own head. The dress strips that away.
“You don’t like it?”
The blue begins to shift green, while the red fades to orange. “It’s very invasive, sir.”
He nods. “I don’t expect you to wear this often, but I do want to know what you’re fe
eling, pet. It will be my responsibility to ensure the times you’re wearing it are always fun and exciting.”
Smirking, I realize, I could live with that.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“And, actually, this dress can do one more thing.” He reaches around me to playfully slap my bottom, sending a wave of intoxicating desire through me. “Not only can it express your feelings, it can send and receive others. So, what am I feeling right now?”
He rubs my clit through the dress, eliciting a heart-stopping rush of bliss.
I moan and tremble as he probes his fingers into my drenched pussy; I shut my eyes and let myself be taken by the tide of pleasure. He kisses me again, then spanks me while holding my plug, to keep me in place. I’ve never had my ass used in such a bizarre fashion, but I love it, and find myself instinctively clenching hard on the toy, not wanting to accidentally slip away. Before long, I’m howling and writhing, unable to control myself.
I’m on the verge of coming when he grabs my shoulders and says, “Take off the dress, pet.”
His command tears me in two different directions; while being linked into his feelings, I’ve never felt more connected to him, and I never want that to stop. However, taking it off will no doubt lead to incredible orgasms. Fortunately, the decision is made easy by one simple fact: it’s what he told me to do. Using his hold on me to brace myself, I pull the dress up and eventually over my head. Vol takes in my nude form approvingly, then tosses the gown at the entrance of the platform. Doing so causes us to drift slightly, but Vol’s grip on me keeps us together.
He activates the telerings around my wrists to cross my arms behind my back, then the ones at my ankles spread my legs. I feel so open and exposed, and my pussy throbs, aching to be touched.
“You know what I want you to say, pet.”
Gasping at my utter helplessness, I nod. “Please let me come, sir.”
His Human Conquest (Captives of the Dominars Book 2) Page 12
