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He wants me, and I fucking love that. He’s so possessive, and so intense. He wants to act like he’s so far above all humans. He talks about training them and selling them and mastering them, but I’m under his skin. I’m in his blood. He wants me, and I know it.
“You create a great urgency in me,” he growls. “I have never been with a human before. I refuse to mate one.”
But he doesn’t snap my clothing back into place. He just keeps looking at my ass, keeps palming my bare cheeks with his massive hands, pulling my cheeks open to inspect what’s between my legs.
You create a great urgency in meisn’t I want to fuck you, but it means the same thing. I know that much as his words reverberate through me in low growls, igniting the desire I’ve been fighting since he first laid hands on me.
“Mine,” he purrs as he rubs my sex with the flat of his hand, my pussy leaving a trail of need against his rough skin.
My legs part, spreading for him. I’m going to let this happen. I’m going to let him claim me. This might be madness, but it’s madness I want to fall into. I was never going to stay a virgin. My purity has been a matter for the highest bidder for as long as I can remember, jealously guarded, and an object of trade. With this alien, nothing is being sold. I’m going to be fucked because he wants to fuck me, because his lust is too powerful for him to resist.
“A soft human brat made for me,” he growls, keeping me in that position, making me wait for what I have always known was inevitable.
Kahn
At first I wanted to teach her a lesson, to show her where she belonged. Then I realized, sharply, that it was not so much where she belonged that I wanted to teach her, but to whom she belonged.
She’s mine.
I know it.
I know it the way I know that Kahn is my name and I need oxygen to live.
I always thought that my brothers and others who mated with humans were giving into some decadent, primitive urge that a Euphorian of greater refinement would never fall prey to, but with her pheromones coursing through me, I am chemically commanded to mate this woman and make her mine forever. The word pet now seems like a silly, shallow thing, cute, affectionate, but in no way able to speak to the depths of this connection.
Some small part of my mind is still trying to resist. It’s telling me that I’m under a chemical spell that will wear off and leave me back where I started, except horrified at my lapse in judgement. It’s that lecturing voice, the same voice that insisted pets can’t sleep in the bed. It’s the part of me that knows better. And it is the part of me that has absolutely no control over the situation whatsoever.
My cock is rock hard. It has been a long time since I mated any female. The political situation on Euphoria has been too delicate to risk any kind of mate taking. If I was to bond with the wrong female, I could contribute to the deterioration of the social contract between our family and the wider society. Euphorian females of good breeding are closely guarded, and very rarely interested in mating for any reason other than social advancement.
When we were younger, and my father was still alive, many females used to court our family. We were considered highly eligible bachelors, and we made the most of the opportunities we were given. Once my father passed, and the conflict with Wrathelder became evident to all, those same females and their families now considered us too great a risk.
Stella is not resisting. Quite the opposite, she is presenting herself as submissively as she ever has. Her scent is filling the air, and the slight glimmer of arousal between her lower lips entices me.
It’s wrong to do this.
It’s against my principles.
I am hesitating, even though every impulse I have demands I drive my cock deep inside this human vessel, demonstrating not only my dominance and ownership, but unleashing the desire I’ve been holding onto for all this time. I have suppressed all mating drive to the point I thought I no longer had one, but now, suddenly, I feel all those years of repression tearing away,
I’m going to take her.
I’m going to make her mine.
Her pussy has become the center of my universe. The middle of everything. The dark hair curling around that pink flesh that is already beginning to open for me, unfurling with her arousal as blood rushes to these nether regions.
She’s moaning now, letting out soft little gasps and sighs.
For a moment, I am slightly confused. Then I remember. The collar. My desire must be activating the collar, and it must be pleasuring my pet even as I stand here locked between morality and carnal need. Sometimes I forget what a useful tool it is, as it quite often activates without my needing to consciously think about it.
I am surprised to note that I feel a pang of jealousy. Yes. I am jealous of a collar of my own making. It feels as though the device has a closer and more intimate relationship with Stella than I do — and that will not do.
Stella
The collar is sending pulses of pleasure to my pussy over and over again. He’s barely touching me. He’s only looking. But his need and my need are mixing together, and my clit is tingling so intensely it feels as though I am being licked by a thousand little tongues.
Being kept in position this way, spread open and observed, able only to grind and wish and fantasize is a sweet form of absolute torture. He did this to me once before, but now I need more. Fingers, collars, they’re not enough. My body is primed and ready for something more.
Suddenly, Kahn’s fingers are wrapped in the back of my hair, and he is moving me to a position on his bed that can really only be for one thing. He puts me face down, then lifts my hips up, encouraging my knees to bend and propping me up in a lewd way that exposes my pussy to him for the taking.
