HUMANS MUST KNEEL: A POSSESSIVE ALIENS ROMANCE

by Renard, Loki

  “Come here,” I say with a snap of my fingers.

  She scrambles up from the floor, clutching the dog in her arms. In spite of her bravado, she holds on to the puppy as if it were a soft toy, or safety blanket. She is afraid, more than she wants me to know. Perhaps more than she knows herself. Denial is another significant part of the human psyche. Humans are capable of living through all sorts of internal conflict simply by ignoring it. I intend to be something she cannot ignore.

  I take her from the cell she very much deserved to be in, and I lead her to a room she should never see. I do not have secure quarters ready for a human who needs to learn several lessons, but mine will do.

  “Whoa, that is a huge bed. You could fit twenty people in that thing.”

  “Scythkin sleep communally.”

  “So that’s what you are? A scythkin?”

  “Yes. That is what I am.”

  “Why am I here? I’m not sleeping with you again. Not when your go to move is to kick me out of bed afterwards, and into a cell. Worst first date ever, by the way.”

  I’m familiar with the human concept of dating. It involves two parties coming together, eating or drinking, and quite often, inserting their genitals into one another to see if they are a good match. It is a hazardous process, especially for females who can find themselves impregnated before the male has undergone sufficient pair bonding rewiring in his meat mush brain. When that happens the male may refuse to support the female and her offspring, and indeed, go on to repeat the process with other females.

  Seven

  “Wrong.”

  “What do you mean, wrong?”

  I can’t believe this guy’s arrogance. Except, he’s not a guy. He’s a ten foot tall scythkin warrior. I just learned what a scythkin warrior was today, so that’s fun. And by fun, I mean, not fun. At all.

  “There have been many worse first dates. This is far from the worst first date ever. Many first dates have historically ended in one or more of the daters failing to survive. You are very much alive. And you have a puppy.”

  “I didn’t mean that literally.”

  “Why not?”

  “What do you mean, why not?”

  “I mean, why do you say things if you don’t actually mean them.”

  “It’s called talking.”

  “It’s called nonsense.”

  The puppy shifts and whines against me. It is getting restless, and so am I.

  “You have somewhere for this guy to go?”

  “Put him down.”

  Some deep ancestral memory is telling me if I put this puppy down, he’s going to pee on the floor. Then I remember its not my floor and I don’t care. So I put him down. He immediately starts sniffing around, wandering in circles.

  “This will be where you stay, human,” Krave says. “This will… what is he doing!?”

  “Answering nature’s call,” I smirk. “I told you, he needed somewhere to go. This is what happens when you try to keep captives. Things get messy.”

  He presses a button and a small set of flying things appears out of a grate in the wall. They zip down to the mess and start somehow cleaning it.

  “Why don’t we have this up there?”

  “Because humans never developed nanotech cleaning technology in the period the simulation covers, and because menial tasks are an excellent distraction for the human brain. From now on, you clean up after the puppy.”

  “Then you need to give him somewhere to go. He needs grass to play on. Sunshine. He needs water. He needs a little sun house to stay out of the sun. He needs a couch. He needs a small cottage, and a refrigerator with dog food and some sodas, and maybe a small planet. And he also needs a thousand dollars.”

  “What does he need a thousand dollars for?”

  “… reasons.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re asking for things for yourself, while pretending the puppy wants them.”

  “Sounds to me like you got me a puppy and have no interest in taking care of it. That’s irresponsible.”

  “You lecture me on responsibility?” He gives a short laugh. “Human, I am responsible for every human on this disc shaped somewhat like a planet. I am more responsible than you can imagine. I am the most responsible being you have ever encountered. I was first-hatched of a hundred scythkin. I have lead my clutch in battle and in life for endless years. You are a barely sentient little human with muddled memories and no knowledge of her past.”

  Wow. He really doesn’t like being called irresponsible. He has an ego. That might be the first weakness I have managed to find in his impenetrable exterior. He is a being of muscle and knives, impossible strength, and incredible power. But he seems to care about my opinion of him.

  “Whereas you,” he says. “Didn’t even manage to hold down a simple simulated job for more than a few simulated weeks. You had no relationships, no pets. You didn’t assume responsibility for anything, including yourself.”

  “So?”

  “So who are you to call my responsibility into question?”

  “I’m going to call so many things into question,” I say, pressing my advantage. “I’m going to question your responsibility, your honor, your morals, the way you fold your towels.”

  “You’re going to speak to me with respect.”

  “That’s going to be hard, because I don’t respect you.”

  “You don’t respect me?”

  “That’s what I said, right?”

  He lets out a feral growl, the kind of sound which precedes very bad things.

  “I am afraid of you, though,” I add quickly. “If that helps?”

  “It does help,” he growls. “But I will have more than your fear. I will have your respect. And your ass.”

  “Wha…”

  He sweeps me up off my feet and tosses me on to the impossibly large bed. The puppy is put away in another room through one of the many doors leading off this master suite which is bigger than my entire apartment. I have a moment to take it in from the bed, and under any other circumstances I’d be super comfortable here. But the naked pointy alien has turned back to me, his expression determined and frightening, just like I told him it was.

  “You are a disobedient human,” he growls down at me. “You will learn nothing from imprisonment. So you will suffer another way. I intend to punish you physically.”

  “Didn’t you already do that?”

  “We mated. It was not punishment.”

  His large hand wraps around my ankle. He drags me back toward him, my body sliding back over the sheets in a smooth draw. His other hand clasps my naked cheeks, exposed through the tatters of the clothing he left me wearing after our rough lovemaking. I feel the tips of his claws pressing into my soft flesh, not hard enough to hurt, but certainly hard enough to warn. This is going to hurt.

  Krave

  Oh this is going to hurt. This smart little human was going to be punished regardless, but now she is going to be thoroughly thrashed. Mating with her was a mistake. It gave her ideas above her species and her station. She should not dare to speak to me with anything less than groveling respect. I am a creature who has destroyed worlds, and she thinks it as appropriate to speak to me like I am one of her little meat friends? Oh no. That I will never tolerate.

  The first slap lands with a satisfying sound, followed by an even more satisfying squeal of discontent. I am barely touching her, but the irony of this discipline is that even the lightest swats of my much larger palm cause her tender skin to become awash with a red hue. She is utterly unconditioned to even the slightest discomfort. The humans inside the simulation are never hurt, never afraid. But she is both now. She writhes on the bed, displaying the tender nether parts of her body in a frantic, lewd dancing motion. This is nothing. In the historical annals of human history, we have found evidence of harsh corporal punishments meted out in almost every civilization. This is as traditional a handling method as is possible to use. Her wails of outrage tell me that it is effective.

/>   “Ow! Ow! It hurts!”

  “It is supposed to hurt,” I tell her. “Next time you might consider a more respectful tone when you speak to me. You might not want to resort to snide mockery as a way to get what you want. You are in captivity with me because you could not obey simple orders in the world above. You brought this on yourself. And even once you had tasted prison, you continued to use that limited ability of small mouth noises to antagonize me. It is as if some part of you wants this, Seven. Is that it? Do you crave pain? Is there something in your human wiring that just won’t let you settle into a comfortable world? Time and time again you have had the opportunity to choose an easy path, and at every divergence you have made things difficult.”

  Seven

  He is lecturing me, which might be worse than the fact his massive palm is whipping back and forth across my bottom in a stinging series of slaps which make every part of me flare with wicked heat. He’s not wrong. I do make life difficult for myself. I could have, should have been more careful when he released me from the cell, but the puppy made me feel strong. Now I see it was a trap to draw me out of myself, to make me say the things I am not allowed to say. This isn’t fair. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. What is it about the truth which always draws such condemnation? I don’t respect him. He is an invader, a persecutor, a jailer. He fits every reasonable definition of enemy - and the harsh leathery surface of his palm is not doing anything to change that perception as it whacks me into a state I can only describe as… euphoria?

  The first slap was a shock, but every one after that has hit my system like a potent drug. In what I now know was the simulation, I used to take every drug I could get my hands on. We all did. It was the eighties, or maybe the nineties. I can’t recall anymore. So much of my life is a blur, faint memories of things I know I lived and yet which no longer seem quite real.

  I don’t know anything about the world I came from. But I do know that if Krave meant to hurt me, he could. He is covered in razor sharp surfaces. One bite from his fangs could tear me up. But he is slapping me lightly, making my blood rush with endorphins. If he means for this to be punishment, he has made a mistake, because I am starting to lift off and drift on a shallow cloud of the pleasure my body knows how to generate from rough stimulation. The more his hand meets my skin, the higher I go until there is no tension in my muscles at all and no need to hold me down because I am happily limp across this monster bed.

  SLAP!

  A harder stroke spikes the sensation, but I am no longer interpreting the heat and sting as pain. It is pure pleasure to me, a direct shot of dopamine to my confused brain. I feel my muscles convulse and then return to that state of relaxation almost immediately, except for the muscles very low down between my thighs. They stay in a state of clenching tension, grinding against the bed with every hard swat from that alien palm, the bud of my clit swiping across the silken sheets, little tingles racing through me, making me the kind of sinful wet that even the alien punishing me cannot ignore.

  He stops. I feel his fingers slide between my thighs, the thick, powerful digits spreading my lips.

  “Are you aroused?”

  The shock in his voice makes me giggle. He thinks he knows so much about humans. But he doesn’t know a goddamn thing about me.

  Krave

  She’s wet.

  Soaked.

  She’s even more aroused than she was before the first time we mated. This was supposed to teach her a lesson. Her cheeks are a bright red color, all the way from the middle, down the delicious curve of her rear and all the way to her upper thighs, which have not escaped my wrath.

  But she is grinding now, working her sex back against my fingers, almost as if she is trying to get them inside her. She wants to be taken again, though she is still showing traces of my own fluids inside her. Perhaps that is the reason she is so receptive. My fluids are potent sexual bonding agents. When I released them inside her, I initiated a process in her simple chemistry which she cannot resist. From now on, almost everything I do will no doubt be incredibly arousing to her. That is going to make punishing her difficult.

  I swipe my fingers over her clit and watch her hips hump empty air for another touch. I oblige, out of curiosity and desire, rubbing her little bud back and forth between my fingers, letting her slippery sex do the work, her hot red bottom bouncing up and down in a motion reminiscent of being taken. Is there any part of her that doesn’t crave conquest at all times? I could plunge myself back inside her again, feel her stretch again, but what would that teach her?

  What would she learn?

  How would I… “Oh… yes…”

  That is my throaty growl. That is my cock pressing against the opening of her soft sex. That is my flesh pushing inside her, making her agile little cunt work for me.

  “Bad girl,” I snarl, slapping her bottom with a hard swat, clenching her cheek with my palm as I drive myself into her body. The first time I took her I was careful not to hurt her. This time I will not harm her, but I am much rougher. I grip her hips and pull her back on the full length of my shaft with a throaty roar matched by her own feminine wail of need.

  This time our mating is rough and urgent, her resistance to my authority only serves to make my cock thicken inside her. This human drives me wild with the instinct to mate and conquer. Her wailing and squealing makes my blood thunder in my veins, but I can hear her over that sound, over everything. Her every whimper and moan inflames me further, her wet little hole so tight and so perfectly made for me.

  “I’m coming…I’m coming…” she’s panting that phrase over and over again. I do not have the time to stop and ask her where she is coming, or going for that matter, because her pussy is clenching me with throbbing orgasm, triggering my own climactic response. My empty seed floods her for a second time, delivering a dose of intense bonding chemicals directly to her tender inner spaces. I pull her back on my dick, and make sure it sinks in to the tissues of her sex, engorged with blood and desire. She thinks she has won by turning my discipline into sexual connection, but every time my seed sinks into her, it primes her to be just that little bit more compliant. Soon she will be doing precisely as I say without any kind of resistance.

  “Wow,” she moans, her hair all over her face, her body covered in another slick sheen of fuck-sweat. “Wow, you can punish me any time.”

  “Of course I can.”

  She smirks at me. I love her spirit. It infuriates me, but I love it. There is something to admire about a human who refuses to acknowledge her weakness.

  I curl my fingers in her hair and pull her up from the bed, her body dangling from my fist. “I’m your owner. Your lover. Your master. I am your everything.”

  Seven

  My pussy clenches at his words. For a second time, I have been flooded with his seed. I don’t know if he knows it, but this stuff makes me feel dizzy and numb and a little bit tingly. I wonder how I would feel if it didn’t have that effect on me, if my pussy would ache and sting after the thorough ravaging he just gave me. There is no way my body was biologically designed to take him the way it does, but his vicious form compensates for the differences in our physiology.

  I am happy. Here in his grip, I feel content and satisfied, and oh so safe. This is not how I planned to feel. I didn’t know that my arousal would lead to such a happy ending. Back in the simulation, sexual encounters were usually fumbling and hurried and ended with paranoia about pregnancy.

  Wait.

  “You can’t get me knocked up, can you?”

  “No,” he says, pressing his fanged lips to mine in a possessive kiss. “Or, yes, potentially, but not the way we just did things.”

  “Okay. Good. I’m not ready to be a criminal and a mother.”

  He smirks and his other hand slides down to rub between my thighs, petting my pussy with a light and playful touch. Oh god. Not again. He is reigniting the need inside me, he is using his seed to torment my clit. I writhe and squirm, but there is no escape. K
rave is making a point, one he doesn’t need words to explain. He is teaching me a lesson about my body and how it responds to him, how I respond to captivity and his dominance as he makes me climax again, pushes me past the resistance of my exhausted body and finds my capacity for pleasure on the other side of orgasm. My cries are ragged, my muscles aching, my sex coated with his juices mixing with mine.

  “Enough! Enough! I submit!” I moan the words, barely able to muster any volume at all. I am so exhausted, so used, so sated, so completely taken.

  Krave

  Perfect. This is how I wanted to see her, and what I wanted to hear. She lies on the bed in a tangle of limbs and hair, flushed and shining and so utterly beautiful I feel as though my heart might break. I knew I was creating a bond in her by flooding her with my seed, but her pheromones may have an even more powerful effect on me. I feel a rush of species uncharacteristic affection, care, and love. I want to sweep her back into my arms and lick her all over, clean my seed from her and start all over again.

  But that would be too much. She cannot take the full force of my passion. I have pushed her to the limits of the human capacity for pleasure. She will need rest and calories in order to rejuvenate enough energy for another round.

  “Good girl,” I say, running my fingers lightly through her hair. Every sharp edge on my body is retractible, including my horns which can twist and lay flat against my skull when the situation calls for it. Usually it takes some conscious effort to do that, but my sharp places become soft by an act of instinct when it comes to her.

  Her eyes are closed. She is breathing softly and deeply.

  I think she has fallen asleep.

  I back out of the room slowly, making sure it is secured. The little dog is waiting for me in the hall where it has once again, made a mess.

  “I do not know what the point of you is,” I tell it. “But you seem to make the human happy, so you will live.”