by Zora Jorel
Sigh. I’m so sick and tired of the old “get in touch with your feelings” shtick. I’ve heard it my whole life. About my unresolved issues with my mother. About some of the shadier things I had to do as a member of the EEF. About reconciling becoming a police officer in a community that hates my guts and sees me as a sellout.
I don’t need a handle on my emotions, to get in touch with inner Brea. I have them under control just fine, thank you. My sisters in the 21st called me the Rock for a reason. I’m not some dormant volcano just waiting for the right moment to erupt.
But…I made Markuz a promise to at least try to do things his way. I close my eyes, but instead of getting in touch with my feelings, I inhale the scent of his alien musk. My pussy throbs, beneath this thin layer of mesh, desiring nothing more for him to return the favor my mouth did to his enormous cock just hours earlier.
Shit. Concentrate. My eyes open to see Markuz finalizing the preparations to his equipment.
He explains to me how it works. The shimmering tesseract of glass displays images streaming from my mind. Its color changes, providing emotional context for the interrogator to decipher. Every police department on Earth would kill for such technology.
“Before we get started, just relax,” he says, stroking his thumbs along the thickest crease of my palm. The act is meant to soothe, but damn, it’s hitting hot spots I didn’t even know I had.
“Easy for you to say. Have you ever been strapped up to one of these things?”
He laughs. “Many times. Most times by Kulan, in fact, during my initiation into the Commandant Officer Corps. It’s because of her help that I was able to move on from a childhood that threatened to hold me back. She is the one who taught me the concept of freedom through truth.”
“Nice.” Yes, please tell me more about the late, great Kulan. Never gets old. I’m caught by surprise by how fast ol’ envy snuck up on me, just from thoughts of Kulan alone with Markuz, his mind and feelings open to her in the most intimate ways possible.
I am no threat to you, Brea.
Please shut up and go away. I’m slowly, grudgingly accepting the reality, of the existence of a frigging alien presence in my head. Instinctively, my thoughts, my very being, center to my chest where the pendant lies.
It pulses. It burns.
Then my natural human impulse kicks in, to mentally put as much distance between her and what makes me, well, me. My throat starts to knot. This is the absolute opposite of what I’m supposed to be doing.
“Are you ready, Brea?”
I grant a silent affirmation. The tetlu venom tingles beneath my skin.
Do what you’ve done your entire life. Face it. Own it. And if you can’t, fake it til you make it.
“Think about that day in Brazil, Brea. Close your eyes and see it. You can do this.”
There’s so much confidence and patience in his voice. He…he actually believes in me, that I’m capable of this.
Dammit. I need to stop this. I…
I see. To my surprise, I actually see the day. Me, Ada, Cora, Dawn, and Elena, in prototype stealth gear, making our way through Brazilian jungle terrain. The alien ship awaits. A large force would be easily detected, so the EEF sent us, the 21st, their alpha squadron, to do what no one else has been able to.
But of course we’re discovered. All hell breaks loose.
“Brea, good. This is good.” His thumbs slowly trace my palm. My nipples harden beneath the wire mesh, pinching them. My rising heart rate must be increasing the venom’s effectiveness. I’m liking the pain. I want more. It’s hard to even lie about it. “Now see through her eyes. See it through Kulan’s. Let your mind accept her.”
Relax, Brea. The more I relax, the more the venom rewards me by accentuating the pleasure of the moment. The biting sting of my nipples makes my pulse roar, as Markuz’s voice, his touch, his very presence, swells the folds between my legs. The more I relax, the more I feel the tendrils of Kulan’s essence creep into my mind.
“Good, Brea. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Just go with the flow. Don’t fight the current. See the past. Feel it.
But me being me, I can’t. Panic creeps in.
Opening my mind to the past, to the feelings that go with it, makes me vulnerable. Brazil, my mom’s house, her funeral. It’s all one and the same. The past. And the past means pain. Times I almost let down my guard, when I’ve let myself feel and gotten punished. Burned.
No, I’ll never be weak like that again. I’m Brea Stone, the Rock.
Never let them see you cry. Don’t even let them know you can.
I panic, an onrush of familiar anxiety overtaking me. My mind starts to scatter. My feelings betray me, and my thoughts jump from place to place
My cousin. My uncle. Mom. I open my eyes, and on the crystal screen, I see a brand new nitro stove, smoke seeping from the door of the oven.
“You burned it, you fat little witch. So you reach in and get it out!” my mother screams. She’s so young but looks so old. The track marks on her arm are fresh and raw, like the surface of ground beef.
Red. The image is all red. I see my small hands tremble to reach into the stove. I feel the world scorch beneath my fingertips.
The smell. Like burnt biscuits. Like searing flesh…
“Brea! Relax!” I hear Markuz’s voice in the distance. My head shakes from side to side, out of my control.
I can’t do this. Kulan tries to bubble to the surface like bile in my throat, so beautiful, so perfect, so confident in herself, so sure of what’s right and wrong, not giving a damn of what the outside world thinks. That’s not me. I’m so scared, so scarred. Nothing I do is ever right. No wonder Mama gave me away that day.
“Brea!”
I snap out of it. My body’s in agony, way past the border of pleasure-pain that had been so desirable before. Markuz grips my shoulder. There’s concern in his eyes.
After my breathing settles, he drops back in relief. He scrubs his face with his hands.
“I’m okay. Just…give me a minute,” I lie. Pain strikes at my core before the words leave my lips.
Markuz leans forward and kisses me on the forehead, his lips a cool balm for the heat.
“I was wrong, Brea. You are not ready for this.“ His voice is peppered with disappointment and regret, as if he’s the one who had the breakdown, not me. “I have failed you. I should’ve known that what works for a Duqaanian will not work for you. Despite your many strengths, you are just…human.”
The words slap me. Just human. It’s meant to make me feel better, to rationalize my inability to see beyond my own pain. But I hear it for what he really means.
I’m weak. And it pisses me off.
“Brea, what are you doing?”
I should wait. I should give my body, my mind a chance to recover. But if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s weak. Scared, scarred, confused, and stubborn as a drunk mule, but never weak. I refuse to see that reflection in his eyes. I refuse to be judged by an oversized alien cop and his dead girlfriend in my head.
“I’m getting you your goddamn answers.”
The tiny roots of Kulan’s essence once again climb my psyche, and I sense the onrush of emotions right behind. My heart quickens. I smell the familiar copper scent of an impending anxiety attack.
A tree.
Tree…yes, I see it now. A willow tree on a cool April day, a picnic, and a little girl with her mother. Momma, you had such a pretty smile.
My mind calms, and I feel myself regaining control.
“Brea, you’re doing it!”
Yeah…yeah, I am. I close my eyes, and when I reopen them I see things through Kulan’s eyes. I feel her, on that day when she and her sholqua died. Her sisters. I hear the gunfire, I taste the blood from a life coming to an end.
“Ma coma manet.”
“What did you just say?” Markuz asks, incredulous.
I repeat the statement, translating it it my mind: We are betrayed.
&nbs
p; There’s a sinking feeling in my soul. I see things play out, in many ways the same I remember them through my own eyes.
Me and my girls in the 21st, surrounded and seemingly defeated by an army of Duqaanian droids. D’lanna, the sania premiere, stands at the opening of the cave, triumphant.
Then droid after droid stop as a result of a hack by Cora. Suddenly it’s just the sholqua vs the 21st. Ada vs D’lanna. Cora vs Minoke. Dawn vs Stissa. Elena vs Jazel.
Me vs Kulan.
The fight is only minutes, but seems like forever. Of course the humans are losing. Even with guns on our side, we stand little chance.
Until the second part of the hack takes effect.
BOOM. Minoke, the science sania, falls first, caught directly by blast. Her best friend Jazel rushes to her aid, and Elena takes advantage of the opening to mow her down with gunfire. Stissa, spiritual sania, screams in empathic agony for her dying sisters, leaving her backside unprotected for Dawn to push her from the rock cliff.
Not believing her eyes, Kulan’s security band rings loudly, analyzing the situation and alerting her to a terrifying truth.
We humans have information about them we shouldn’t. Codes. Schematics. There’s a traitor within their midst.
That’s when I shoot her squarely in the chest. Kulan falls backwards, hard. Her blade strikes the surrounding rock with a burst of sparks. The same rock that makes up my pendant.
I reach to touch the blade, mesmerized. Kulan’s bloody, dying hand grabs mine, and the circle is complete.
“With honor, I fall. From my blood, I give to thee.”
The vision ends. Markuz kneels before me, his head low. He looks downright despondent.
“They…were betrayed. It all makes sense.”
I’m glad it does for him, because my mind is still spinning. I can’t believe that just happened. I’m exhilarated, the tetlu venom rewarding me for my efforts, but seeing Markuz’s sadness makes me ache.
“Betrayed how?”
He clenches his jaw and utters a single word. “Blademaidens.”
Personal assistants to the sholqua. More memories rise to the surface. There were five, one for each of us. Each of them.
“None of the Earthan government reports I discovered even acknowledge their existence. I’d assumed they were casualties of war, but one must have worked with your people, sold us out.” He bangs his hand against the table, scattering equipment and making me jump. “Each were Protectors, personally selected by me for this mission. This is my fault!”
I’m not sure if I shouldn’t be grateful for this supposed betrayal, considering it kept Earth from being conquered, but I keep my mouth shut. What matters is that this information has devastated Markuz.
“You couldn’t have known.”
He holds his giant hand up, silencing me. “It was my duty to.”
A moment passes. Markuz slowly rises and does the unexpected.
He unshackles me.
“Thank you, Brea. You…you can leave.”
I’m so confused right now. Is this it? Is this all he needed me for? My mind tells me to turn and make a run for it, to get back to my life. To save my cousin. To warn the EEF that yet another Duqaanian arrived on Earth.
But my body screams something else. I move closer to him, swayed like iron fillings in a field.
“What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. This is my burden.”
“It doesn’t have to be. I’m here to talk.”
“Talk?” He turns around, eyes wide. His skin is darker, more sinister, a stark contrast to the ocean green of his eyes.“You can’t even come to grip with the failures you had with your mother. There is no counsel you could offer me right now that would help.”
I’m dumbstruck. It’s like I’m with my family all over again, all eyes on me, waiting for the breakdown so they can revel in my tears. Bask in what a headcase fat ol’ Brea’s turned out to be.
No way. No how. I won’t cry. I won’t even give him the effort of a sassy comeback.
I thought Markuz was different. I don’t know why, but I did. Glad to find out I was wrong before I did something I really regret.
I stand, straighten my back, and hold my head high as I turn on my heels. Screw finding my clothes.
I’m two steps into my march when he grabs my shoulder.
“Brea, wait. I’m sorry.”
Instincts ball my fingers into the fist I use to swing at his face. He catches my arm, pulls me close.
“Please, don’t leave.”
His chest is hot, sweaty marble. My body curls into it, the remaining space between us an impediment to what I’ve wanted—needed—since I detected his presence.
With determined hands, he claws at the sharp, tight netting covering my body, especially around my ass.
“I need you.”
The words are magic. Nobody wants me. Nobody needs me. Not unless they need a rock, someone to lean on. Is that what this is?
No. This…this is different. Something more.
Markuz’s mouth envelops mine. I suck him in.
“Brea Stone, you’re mine.”
7
Mine.
Brea Stone is mine. Every since I arrived on this planet, tracked her, viewed her, and inhaled her scent, I knew that I would have her. Take her. Claim her.
My sera.
My jenu.
Mine.
All mine.
Her plush bottom fills my hand like plucked fruit, a gift to the gods. Her tits press against my abdomen, the hard nipples swollen with unfulfilled lust. Her breath tickles my neck, hot and then cool in the sweaty space between us.
I take her mouth again, tasting the anticipation on her lips. No, she’s no virgin, but she might as well be the way her heat, her smell, her taste fill my senses. This is new for her. Fire lust. Of course she knows not how to handle it.
I can barely do so myself.
By absorbing Kulan’s essence, Brea has also taken her place as my destined, genetic mate. I’ve tried to fight it. She’s tried to deny it. No more.
What she wants, I’m more than willing to give.
“Aaah!” Brea screams, as I tighten the netted mesh covering her body with a single command. The mesh digs into her soft brown skin, not enough to cut her, but more than enough to leave marks.
“You like the pain, don’t you?” I ask, leaning into her rolled head and stamping kisses down her neck.
She claws at my sides defensively, all the while pulling me closer.
I lean her back against the table to take in the sight.
“The tetlu venom has done far more that just help crumble the barriers in your mind,” I say, a smile upon my face as I play with her brown areola. A side effect of the substance is an increased sensitivity in all her more private places. The concentration is strongest on his nipples and clit, where the creatures were attached.
When I squeeze, a tiny drop of liquid collects at the tip. Greedily, I suck it in, eliciting a guttural cry from Brea as she holds my head in place.
“More,” she begs. I suck harder, pulling out even more of the sweet nectar. My right hand moves down to the wet chasm between her legs. I caress her folds and uncover the pearl underneath, plump and slick.
A tiny pinch makes her shiver beneath me. She’s already on the precipice, and if I’m being honest, so am I. My hardness is downright painful. The situation is begging for me to go straight to the rutting, screw the foreplay. To fill her tight little cunt with my Duqaanian seed right here, right now.
But Brea deserves more than a quick rut. So much more. She’s earned it.
I pick her up and place her back into the chair. I reposition it so that it’s at an incline. This leaves her in the perfect position, legs spread, open for me.
Only me.
“Even wider,” I order her. She gives me a devilish grin and does as she’s told.
“As you command.”
I kneel and rip at the mesh to gain better access. My mouth goes
straight for her hard knob.
“Fuck!” she screams. The only sound I’m interested in, though, is the sloshing of my tongue through her delicious cream.
Like fruit. A meal only fit for a Duqaanian. I’ll kill any male, human, Duqaanian, or otherwise, who’d dare take what I’m about to claim.
She tries to squeeze her thighs against my head, but I scold her with a firm smack against her sensitive flesh. The result is an onrush of wetness. She writhes beneath my mouth, an instrument to be strummed.
I slide my finger into her tightness, rutting her slowly with my digit until she comes, coating my lips with even more of her desire.
“Fuck me,” she says breathlessly.
Don’t worry, Brea Stone. I will. But I’m the one in control here.
I flip her over, her round derriere high in the air, and devour her from behind. My tongue slides up and down her swollen folds, then past the boundary and into the dark area between her cheeks. I push past the opening of her darkest hole, forcing her to explode once again into orgasmic bliss.
Cocks have mercy.
I kiss her along her spine, until I reach her neck. She turns her head, and our lips meet.
“You taste divine.”
“And you eat pussy like a pro. I don’t know how much more I could’ve taken.”
I chuckle at her folly.
The ripping sound of the mesh fills the room, as I do away with it once and for all. No more barriers between us.
“Markuz, wait, I don’t think…”
Thinking is overrated. The time has come to act. My engorged cock slides into her, my strength forcing her to take me completely. Brea’s head rolls as her throat emits a croaking sound of pleasure.
Her tight little cunt has me seeing the heavenly bodies of space. We sit a moment, adjusting to each other’s body. Her pussy softly pulsates around my length, echoes of both a fading orgasm, and ecstasy yet to come.
“Markuz, please.”
“Please, what?” I flex my cock, making her coo.
“Fuck me. Please.”
Using that perfect ass as a handle, I slowly slide her up and down my cock.
