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He is really off on his specialist subject. If he was a normal guy, I’d say that he’s been starved for someone to talk to. I’m listening, somewhat. I’m mostly eating though, enjoying the buttery bread and cheesy filling. I’ve got a lot of eating to catch up on.
* * *
When I’m done and feeling full, I brush my hands off and look him dead in his handsome alien face. It’s time to tell him the truth.
“So, here’s the deal. I’m going to escape your custody, and this ship, and go back to Earth, because being a pet to an alien sounds fucking awful. I’ve been looking for freedom, not greater captivity.”
“There is no chance of you escaping either this ship or my captivity, human. If you want to make life easier for yourself, accept your new circumstances.”
“Get fucked,” I reply, succinctly.
He smirks at me. “That language will earn you punishment. I thought you would understand that I expect respectful behavior from you.”
“That’s hard, though, because I don’t respect males.”
“I see,” he chuckles. “Let me see if I cannot make you respect at least one.”
He grabs me up and for the second time in what feels like a handful of hours, I am over his lap. He could use the collar, but I don’t think he wants to. I think he wants me to feel this helplessness over his big thighs.
I squirm and wriggle and find myself not so much over his thighs, but over one of his thighs, my legs splayed on either side of his thick muscular leg. His scales can be felt through the fabric of his pants, and with the weight of my body now coming down through the fulcrum of my crotch, I feel parts of my anatomy sparking to life in a way they probably shouldn’t.
The pain of the collar punishment already got me started. Then I calmed down through the sammich part of the proceedings, and now I am fed, rebellious, and turned the fuck on with this full body contact I’m getting from this monstrous alien beast who wants nothing more than for me to act like a good girl.
I bite my lower lip and I try my very best not to show how turned on I am. Outwardly, I’m as stoic and rebellious as ever. Inwardly, there’s pleasure right at the place where my clit meets his thigh, and it is radiating out through the rest of my body.
“I enjoy spanking badly behaved pets,” Kahn informs me. “Seeing a human bottom turn pink and then red beneath my palm is a very satisfying process, especially when it results in a well-behaved boy or girl.”
“You spank men too?” I squeak the question in surprise.
“I punish pets who need to be punished. I am a trainer. That means being able to handle any kind of human who requires discipline.”
“I’d like to see a man get punished.”
“Would you?”
“Men deserve punishment, but they never get it. They’re always bigger and crueler and in control.”
Being held in this position while complaining about men is quite something, but Kahn doesn’t seem to mind. He’s not in a hurry to punish me. He takes his time about such things, which means he listens.
“Respect is important for all pets,” he says. “Of any gender. And on that note, it is time you were spanked.”
“Ow!” I gasp the word a second before his palm lands.
“Ow?” He laughs. “I hadn’t even touched you, you dramatic little human.”
“But then you did and it hurt,” I say. That’s not actually true, because his response to my yelp was to not smack me all that hard after all.
“You are such a…” He fails to finish his sentence, but I think I know what he means anyway. Maybe I’m becoming psychic too.
Kahn
I very rarely, if ever, find humans amusing, but this one has a certain spark that tests the limits of my stoic exterior. She is not trying to escape punishment. She is not begging me for mercy. She is simply… adorable. Every inch of her, from her dark curls to her sassy words. I don’t enjoy sass usually, but from her it is somehow charming.
“You are a brat,” I growl, slapping her cheeks, but not nearly as hard as I feel I probably should. I should be teaching her a stern lesson about respect and speaking to her alien betters with some kind of decorum. I will not tolerate a verbally chaotic pet around the place.
That slap leaves her skin reddened, and also brings another response from her. A moan. She grinds her hips and I know why. She is working her pussy against me, just a little. She is tentative, but she is aroused. I should move her out of this position. I should make it so there is no potential for arousal, because this punishment might very well start to become something else if I do not. At the same time, this is a very satisfying way to hold her, and if she wants to desire sex while she is treated to a very sore rear, that does not inherently stop the discipline from being discipline.
I whip her rear, giving her a fast flurry of slaps that make her skin redden in a pleasing manner from the tops of her cheeks to the tops of her thighs. There is no part of this young woman that is not potentially punishable, but for now I am keeping to the traditional locations of her kind. Usually when a human finds themselves in this position there is an ancient submission response. I might be getting that from her already, given how misbehaved she is. This might be Stella’s best behavior on display right now.
