Page 29 of Her Alien Boss

Don’t know why I am bothering, really. He just basically did all of that without the enclosure and I responded to it as if I had been bred for it. I never thought of myself as being particularly submissive or sexual. Maybe I just never had the right alien to bring it out of me.

“You’re done for the day,” he says. “And you did very well, so you can be proud of yourself.”

His praise sends a feeling of pure joy through me. I am so pleased to have done well for him. It makes me feel happy in ways I never felt when I got good performance reports at work in the past. I guess I never got orgasms at work either.

I am getting so attached to my boss. That makes sense too; we’ve practically slept together at this point. Not quite though. Not entirely. My entire sensual region feels sensitive and slightly tender as I walk. I have been put through my paces and found to be suitable.

CHAPTER 3

Evie

I am exhausted. I have never been this tired after a day of work. I have also never been this sexually satisfied. I don’t even want to walk. My legs protest with every step as we walk through this big ass building that is frankly not seeming as impressive as it once did now that I have to drag myself through it when I’d rather not.

Arkon turns around once or twice, slows for me, then finally gets the hint and just picks me up. I grin to myself, then giggle at the notion that he probably looks like a guy making off with the office printer.

To most of these aliens, I really am merely part of the tooling. Drak made that clear with what he said, but the others make it obvious in the way their eyes run over me as if I am part of the furniture. You don’t bother making eye contact with the photocopier, or chatting with a waiting room chair. That’s the treatment I’m generally getting through my limited interactions.

I wonder why Arkon sees me so differently.

I’ll ask him when we’re alone, maybe. I want to know what he thinks, how he thinks. I want to know all about him.

“How did you get here?”

“We walked,” he says, taking my question in the most logical and therefore incorrect kind of way.

“No, I mean here to this place, doing these things?”

“Oh,” he says, shifting me slightly in his four arms. “Well, I am the oldest son, and in our family that means taking over the business of dominating all the territory we can possibly contain. This place is a very special one, because here we are developing tech that will put us in a position to dominate potentially the entire universe.”

“Oh,” I say. “So a very reasonable and achievable goal.”

He smirks. “Reasonable and achievable are not metrics that expansive civilizations tend to embrace. I am here because if I do not do this, someone else will. And that, my sweet human, is a terrible reason to do anything.”

“I was going to say,” I mumble. “But you’ve just made your peace with it?”

“I have found a purpose in it,” he says. We are almost halfway back to his fancy alien penthouse now. Others of his kind are milling about. Some of the younger ones are playing a game with a gleaming disc that flashes between them as they control it with what seems like their minds. They’re wearing headbands with what look like transmitters on them. I bet that’s part of the tech, maybe like an early prototype of it.

“What’s the purpose?”

He smiles down at me and shifts me in his arms again, this time so he can see me more clearly and try to understand why he is getting interrogated.

“Why all the questions?”

“I’m curious,” I say. “It’s good to be curious. Worst thing in the world, well, all the worlds, not to even be curious. But what about your family?”

“What about them?”

“Are you married? Do you have offspring?”

He chuckles at my bald attempt to work out if he is single or if he’s fondling me on the side. “My intimate and romantic attentions are all in one place,” he says. “And it is with you.”

My heart skips a beat. “But you don’t really know me, and I’m human?”

I feel the rhythm of his steps beneath me as he keeps walking, thinking how to respond to that question. I’m two fractions of a degree away from straight up asking him if he’s just love bombing me. I don’t know if aliens have that specific term, but I bet the act is universal.

“A wise human once wrote that your true friends will know you better in the first instant you meet than anyone else will know you in a thousand years. I felt an instant connection with you before I even saw you for the first time. I can’t explain it, but I know that when I feel something it is best to follow it. The consequences for not doing so are missing out on things that were meant for me. You were meant for me.”

We have barely known one another two days at this point, and yet his words ring true to me. I think it’s because what he’s saying are things I have already seen in his eyes, and felt in his touch. Even when I was being toyed with in that captivity machine or whatever they would call it, I felt his care.