HUMANS MUST KNEEL: A POSSESSIVE ALIENS ROMANCE

by Renard, Loki

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s illegal,” he growls. “And because you matter too much to be putting your life at risk.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know it’s illegal, because I’m familiar with the law. I know you matter too much to put your life at risk, because you’re a beautiful young woman, who…”

  “Who cares if I’m beautiful and young? What if I was old and ugly? Could I get high then?” I challenge him, trying to get the upper hand. Maybe I can shame this officer out of my apartment. Maybe I can take a leaf out of Kar3n’s book and ask to speak to his supervisor.

  “I’d like to speak to your manager.”

  “There is no manager,” he chuckles. “I am the ultimate authority where you are concerned.”

  “That doesn’t sound right. You’re a police officer, you have to follow the law. You’re not a judge, jury, and executioner. You’re basically a law errand boy.”

  He takes a deep breath and seems to… grow?

  “Let me show you what kind of errand boy I am, you brat,” he snarls. I sense something physical and painful is in my very near future. I am right. His massive hand curls around my wrist. I brace myself for the metal of handcuffs, but instead I feel a rough tug which sends me sprawling up and over the counter. My cheeks are swiftly exposed to the flat of his palm in a flurry of swats which can only be described as a spanking.

  The heat of the slaps is the final straw in the process of sobering up, sharp sensation racing through my body, making me perfectly, keenly alert. Why now? Why couldn’t I stay comfortably numb? It would be better not to be so totally aware of how I must look, how vulnerable and small and naughty I am, and how he is treating me like a recalcitrant juvenile.

  “OW!” I gasp and complain, but he’s not listening to my sounds. He’s too busy yanking the waistband of my loose fit wide leg jeans down, along with my underwear, baring my body to his palm which returns to ravage my rear with more of those authoritative slaps.

  “You are soaked, human.”

  “What?!” I am flushed with embarrassment, and that is bad enough, but did he just call me human?

  He says nothing, just splays his hand over my ass in a possessive way, his fingers curling around the curve of my cheeks. He squeezes and mutters something under his breath, something I don’t quite catch, but which sounds filthy. My rear hurts, my cheeks still stinging with the effects of the slaps he rained down on me for daring to call him an errand boy.

  “Tell me why you are so wet,” he says. “What aroused you… the punishment, or something else?”

  “It’s a side-effect of the twerp,” I mumble.

  “No, it isn’t,” he says, dealing another swift slap to my bottom. “Tell me the truth, Seven. Does having your bottom thrashed by a big, strong man make you wet between the thighs? Is your pussy soaked because you need the hard thrust of a rough cock?”

  “This is… you can’t…” I am whimpering and moaning, wanting more than anything to avoid saying the answer to his question.

  “Just tell me, Seven. Tell me what you want.”

  I want his fingers to slide down and find my slit. I want him to push them inside me. I want to spread my legs and let him pull the thick hardness lurking inside his pants out and I want him to push it inside me over and over again until I scream with release. But I can’t say that. Good girls don’t tell policemen that they want to be fucked.

  “If you don’t tell me what you want…” he leans down and speaks gruffly and deeply directly into my ear. “I will stop touching you.”

  I let out a small whimper. He’s going to make me say it.

  “I want…” I stop, having found the bravery for two words, the rest of my courage deserts me. “I want… please… touch… me?”

  “Touch you?” He runs his hand over my stinging bottom and taps my cheeks lightly. “Like that? Is that what you want?”

  “More than that… please…”

  “Oh? More?” His voice is rough as he pushes his hand down and lets his fingers brush against my lower lips, just barely touching me there. It is more of a tease than a true touch, a ghosting pass of his digits which makes me arch my ass up and spread my thighs further. This is lewd and depraved, but an hour ago I was buying drugs on the street, so why not try to fuck a cop now? Both actions have the potential to make me feel very good.

  “Please,” I whimper. “More.”

  He lets the tip of one finger run down the length of my slit and play around the bud of my clit. I let out a long, low crooning sound. Fuck yes. I touch myself all the time, but there’s nothing like having my pussy played with when I am soaking wet, ready for sex and yet being kept on that precipice of desire, before physical connection happens. I moan and wriggle, squirming my desire all over the counter, feeling my wetness making the Formica slick.

  “I have to have you,” he growls, sounding barely human.

  I have to have him too. My sex is aching with need. My entire body is quivering with desire. I want this so bad.

  I feel him spreading my pussy lips with his fingers. He’s just looking at me, inspecting the naughty little hole between my thighs, the place I want this stranger in uniform to take me so deeply and thoroughly I never stop feeling him.

  And then I feel it. The hard, hot head of a cock. Oh fuck yes. There is no feeling like this, no anticipation like feeling that hard, smooth skin just slipping into me, making the inner walls of my most private place begin to spread for it. He is taking me. Making me his. His hands go to my hair, one hand grasping it in a thick handful, the other wrapped underneath my throat, cradling my airway as he pushes forward in one long, smooth, strong stroke.

  “Mmmmmmmm…” I moan my pleasure as I finally have what I have craved for what feels like forever.

  “Naughty girl,” he growls, lecturing me. “You’re letting me have your pussy, and you don’t even know me. I could be anybody. And here I am, inside your sex, fucking your tight, wet little hole.”

  Mmmm yes. He jolts me against the counter with a rough thrust which might be supposed to be punishing, but it doesn’t matter, because it isn’t. My body takes everything he has to give, soaking in each rough thrust with eager reception, my tight inner walls gripping him, my legs wrapping around his powerful back.

  “More,” I moan.

  “More?” He snarls the word. “You cannot take more. You will break with more.”

  But he’s wrong.

  “More,” I reply again, my eyes flashing over my shoulder with sexual challenge. I want him to understand my hunger, know my need. I want him to fill me so completely that I never feel empty again. He makes another one of those feral sounds and I feel him become even bigger, around me and inside me.

  Is this a resurgence of the twerp? An echo of the trip I just took? I could swear that the muscular body pumping over and into mine is starting to split at the very seams, something impossibly strange and undeniably alien emerging from what seemed to me to be uniformed human flesh not a minute ago.

  A flash of steel gray catches my eye as a large ridge comes sliding out from the very center of my lover’s back, rising a dozen inches into the air in a powerful display of ultimate strangeness.

  The eyes which flashed orange before now burn with amber as the beast above me reveals itself one layer of flesh at a time, the disguise it wore peeling away in curling skeins to reveal a ferocious visage, fangs and sharp bladed brows, harsh ridges, and plated nose.

  I would call this a hallucination, but for the fact that I can feel him inside me. He pulls free of my body, looking down at me with that intense amber gaze.

  “Do you still want more?”

  Do I want this strange beast, more alien than human, an animal covered in the signs of rough evolution. He looks like a daemon escaped from a nearby underworld, a creature I should fear. But not resist.

  My sex still charges with fire. My desire remains at a heightened peak. When I look down, I see the alien appendage, thicker, harder, a
nd more robust than any earthly cock, waiting to penetrate my tender, willing lips all over again.

  “I need more,” I whisper, showing him courage instead of fear.

  This is real. It may be more real than anything I have ever experienced in my entire life. I am perfectly sober, utterly able to agree to this fresh ravaging from a creature whose alien form matches my wildest desires in every way.

  He hesitates, only for a moment.

  “You are incredible,” he says, his mouth crushing mine in a passionate kiss, a forked tongue flickering against the inside of my mouth as his lips claim me before his cock does the same, that great alien rod thrusting back inside me.

  I have always known the best men were beasts, animals, aliens, monsters. They are the ones capable of quelling the power inside me, channeling my potency into pleasure. I am a rebel born, always pressing against the boundaries of the realm in which I was spawned. I have never been comfortable with this world. I have always needed someone even stranger than I am, and here he is, nine feet of sharp ridges and massive muscles, burning eyes, and a rough desire which will ravage me into perfect release.

  I could ask him a thousand questions. Who he is. Where he comes from. Why he chose me. But the answers are all readily given in the pounding thrust of his flesh which takes mine and makes it soft, my juices making lewd sounds with every thrust, my cries so loud that Kar3n above bangs on her floor to try to make me quiet down. But I will not stifle my pleasure. I will not be ashamed of this transcendent act of passion.

  The alien beast surges inside me, each rough thrust bringing fresh screams of lust and fear. This is the best sex I have ever had. My pussy clenches him so eagerly, the alien shaft plunging in and out of me, sending pure pleasure shooting through my entire body until in the end I am curled up against him, cherished, and held in sexual exhaustion.

  Krave

  She’s seen my true form.

  This can’t happen.

  We can’t do this. Not again. This was supposed to be a secret dalliance. Something she’d never know was anything other than a natural meeting with another member of her species. This was supposed to be my way of having everything I want and not doing her any harm.

  But she can’t live in this world knowing I am alien to her.

  And she can’t live outside it, exposed to all the brutality of my scythkin nature.

  I have no choice.

  “I love you,” I tell her, not holding my feelings back. It won’t matter, not in the end.

  “You love me?”

  “I love you, and have loved you longer than you know.”

  “Why do you sound so sad about that?”

  “Because I can’t stay, not now you’ve seen me like this. This isn’t a world for creatures like me. This is a world made for you.”

  Seven

  “What do you mean?” I run my fingers wonderingly over his body. He is strange, that much is certain, but it feels to me as though he belongs here. Or at least, that he belongs with me and I with him. I was shocked when I saw his real form, but when you have orgasmed so strongly you feel yourself not as an individual, but as part of the universe, things like discovering that your lover was a massive brutal alien are not so much causes for concern. “Where are you from?”

  “I was hatched on a colony a long way from here,” he says.

  “Hatched? Like, from an egg?”

  “Yes, from an egg. My kind is laid in clutches. I was first to hatch in mine, and that made me the leader of the rest of my clutch. Almost a hundred scythkin answer to me.”

  “Wow. And why are you here?”

  “To look after you,” he says.

  “Really. You came to Earth to look after me?”

  “This isn’t Earth.”

  “It’s not?”

  “This is a simulation which you live inside. You are an animal inside a zoo. And I am your zoo keeper.”

  “Zoo keepers aren’t supposed to do what you just did to the animals,” I smirk playfully. I suppose I could panic at this revelation, but I, like everybody else, have always thought there was something strange going on with the world. This makes as much sense as anything else.

  “Am I your favorite exhibit? Do you sleep with all your exhibits?”

  “Yes and no, in that order,” he says, his arms wrapping around me more tightly than before, squeezing me against the ridges of his body. It is not an embrace like any I have experienced before, but it does make me feel cared for and cherished.

  “This is not the first time we have met,” he says.

  “Why don’t I remember?”

  “Because I wiped your memory, and I will do it again.”

  “What? Why!?”

  “Because you can’t function knowing what I’ve told you.”

  “I’m functioning just fine…”

  “But you won’t,” he says. “Your kind can only mate with your kind.”

  “That’s clearly not true, though… how did we meet the first time?”

  “You broke the law. I tried to punish you. I failed. Instead, I fell for you.”

  “And now you’ve come back to me, why?”

  “Because I thought I could be with you in human form. I thought these suits held up better.”

  “So you were going to trick me.”

  “It’s not a trick, Seven. It’s a simulation, and everything inside it must be simulated for your safety. My world is much too dangerous for you. My body is a clear and present hazard, and my kind, the creatures I must keep around myself because they are the kin of my brood - they are dangerous to you too. This is the only place I can keep you safe.”

  “No.”

  He seems genuine in his intentions, and I can imagine that other creatures like him would not be safe to be around, but I do not like the idea of having my memory wiped.

  “No.”

  “Remember,” he says, as he pulls a glowy thing out in front of my face. “There is no such place as far away.”

  “Nooo…”

  HUMAN DELICACY

  Seven

  THIS ISN’T REAL

  I turn the note over and over in my fingers. These three words are ruining my life. I don’t know why, but I am angry. Frustrated. Lonely.

  HUMANS MUST KNEEL

  The call for kneeling comes over the speakers, but I am not in the mood.

  “You must fuck off,” I growl to myself. I’m not kneeling. I’m not doing a goddamn thing.

  HUMANS MUST KNEEL

  It repeats over and over. I don’t care. I’m not going out there.

  Krave

  She is refusing to kneel again. Perfect. Because she refuses to kneel, I have an excuse to pull her from the simulation and try again. Third time is the charm, humans say, which makes no sense, but if the first and second times have failed, then the third is the only one that has a chance - and if that fails…

  I watch as she sits on her couch and ignores the flashing HUMANS MUST KNEEL instruction on her cathode ray television. She picks up a magazine and reads it instead of paying attention to the blaring sound which is being pumped through her apartment.

  Watching her resist the programming, I find myself wondering why sometimes she capitulates and other times she rebels.

  Pants, the dog, is by my side. I took him with me in lieu of taking her. She wouldn’t remember him when she restarted anyway. The entire simulation has been reset to Tuesday, 8:45 am several times now. I think it is taking a toll on some of the humans. The neighbor human, who began in the initial run before I interrupted it to reset Seven, as Karen, has become K2r3n. That signals some kind of corruption. Oh well. I’m telling myself that this is the last time I will have to do this. Now all there is to do is sit back, wait, and do things the way I should have done them in the first place. Like the humans say, third time’s the charm.

  Seven

  I’m not going out there to kneel, but it turns out that means they’ll come for me instead. A drone flies to my window and starts broadcasting the ins
truction through the glass. They - whoever they are, demand that we do this pathetic ritual no matter what. It doesn’t matter if we are sick. It doesn’t matter if we slept in and really need it. Every day we all file out into the street like mindless drones and do the bidding of a voice none of us recognize.

  Except… I think I do.

  There is a richness to it. A depth. Something that tugs at my heartstrings and makes me yearn for a person I do not know. It also makes me angry.

  HUMANS MUST KNEEL

  The drone shouts the words in through the window, demanding my obedience.

  “Shut up!” I grab the microwave from the kitchen, carry it across to the window and throw it through the glass, directly at the flying drone. It, apparently, was not programmed for events like that, because it doesn’t even attempt to evade forty-five pounds of microwave coming at it.

  The drone catches the microwave right in its stupid drone face and crashes onto the ground below, frightening several people who were kneeling obediently, but not hurting any of them.

  “Get the fuck up, you fools!” I scream out the window. “We don’t have to kneel! We’re free citizens. We can do whatever we want!”

  They can hear me, but it doesn’t make any difference. They stay where they are. And I stay where I am, as new drones are sent to my location.

  I’m not going down without a fight.

  The battle which ensues is nothing short of epic. I throw household equipment wildly at the drones, which are multiplying in number and size quite rapidly. A lamp becomes a sword, batting at the metal limbs which try to grab me. My coffee table is the cover I take, my couch cushions used as shields to catch the darts they’re firing at me. If I had to guess, I’d say there’s sedatives in there. Whoever, or whatever is piloting those things wants me alive.

  “FUCK YOU!” I scream. “YOU’RE NEVER GONNA GET ME!”

  But they do. Of course they do. They are metal and tireless and I am human and hungry.

  By the time the drones overcome me, my apartment is well and truly trashed. As they drag me out of the window, I see a smile flutter over the table and turn back to the words which cursed my life: