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“Maybe. Maybe he saw his own weakness and inferiority.”
“I thought I’d never feel anything good again,” I say. “I really thought I’d never enjoy contact with anything male again. I didn’t think I could trust anybody to truly want me. But you seem to want me no matter what.”
“I do want you. You are the first creature to survive landing on this world. You are an extraordinary little human, and I am very fond of you even though you are also a flight risk and a risk to yourself.”
“What happens if you escape this planet? Would you take me?”
“Don’t worry, pet,” he says. “You’ll remain mine no matter what.”
This is officially the most secure relationship I have ever been in, and it’s one with a vicious captor who sees me as a mischievous pet to be kept and tamed. Just my luck.
His hand makes sharp contact with my ass.
“Don’t throw food,” he says, suddenly returning to the original point. “It’s a waste and it’s messy, and most of all, it is disrespectful.”
“Then don’t tease me. I give as good as I get.”
“Yes, you do,” he says, smacking me again. He has made me so sore so many times now, so this light slap, even though it is not intended to be especially painful, makes me yelp.
“Poor baby,” he murmurs. “Is your bottom sore?”
He punctuates the question by spanking me again.
“Ow! Yes!”
“I think you deserve to be sore,” he says, repeating the slapping. He is not as rough as he could be, but he is reigniting the flames of previous punishments. I squirm and I utter little squeaking complaints and none of them do anything to stop him. He just keeps going, doing what he wants to do to me.
I find myself without any kind of undergarments, my squirming sex being caught occasionally by the flat of his whipping fingers. It hurts more when it catches that way, but it also gives me a bolt of little pleasure. He turns me over his thighs, though the position is not as formal as before. He’s not sitting down, he’s more crouched to the task of punishing me and I am moving all over the place in the futile attempt to escape him because that is the game we are playing. He is my tormentor, and I am the one he has chosen to torment.
Every time the tips of his fingers catch the very tip of my clit, my hips jolt and roll. I’m going to come. Climax is sneaking up on me, and no matter how much I try to escape his slaps, he seems to find precisely the right spot to slap. My ass is on fire and my pussy is dripping. The scent of human arousal fills the air.
The world cartwheels and his cock impales me. I am upright on his lap now, my thighs spread over his, his dick deep inside me. Both his hands are clasped on my aching ass and he is working me up and down on his cock with rough, insistent strokes.
The line between punishment and pleasure is blurring even more now. My head falls back, my lips part, and I wail with the rolling of my hips and the flushes of pleasure rushing through me. I don’t have to do any work. My motions are instinctive and driven by his handling of me. I can feel my inner walls gripping his cock super tight, milking him for all I am worth. He is dominating me, but my body is taking full advantage of its rough ravaging.
Manik grabs the back of my head and kisses me hard. I come with my body arching and squirming around his hard alien cock, triggering his own alien orgasm. He roars with pleasure, holding me so tightly I am afraid I might bruise. Every part of me is sensitive from his handling, and every part of me feels as though it belongs to him.
“You are an incredible fuck toy,” he compliments me as I rest against his chest, my cum-soaked pussy dripping his seed over his thighs.
“Mgnnghghhh,” I reply as coherently as possible.
