Earth Girls are Easy… To Dominate

Prologue

Barely having escaped the planet Gavora ahead of an enraged Ghasuk slaver, Bralix’s hands still trembled slightly as he tapped various controls on the dashboard of their spaceship.

Bralix didn’t normally pilot his brother’s ship, but he’d been the first to the cockpit, and he’d thought it prudent to start the engines.

In the co-pilot’s seat, Phyrax didn’t look in any better shape as he unbuckled his safety harness and stumbled over to the reason for their hasty escape, strapped into the nav-seat.

The green chlorocytes in the skin framing his face were vibrant green from the exertion, barely hidden by his shaggy chin-length dark hair, even as the rest of his face was pale.

Phyrax touched her everywhere, checking for injury, before he unbuckled the human and carried her toward the rear of the ship.

Bralix sighed, and free of immediate pursuit, recalculated their course. He’d never thought he’d see the day his brother lost his mind over a pet.

They’d both spent their share of sleepless nights in their youth with animals in the barn of the small ranch their sire owned, but Bralix had never thought Phyrax would one day challenge a Ghisuk slaver for possession of a dairy human—or that Phyrax would claim that human as a mate.

Not that the Nef’eal could afford to be picky as far as mates went.

Females of their own race were all but extinct, a dietary deficiency causing more males to be born than females, and what females there were, didn’t mature to sexual adulthood without a special diet of Vadone milk from adolescence.

What females there were, lived a pampered existence with their sole purpose being breeding, far too precious to belong to any one male.

Instead, any female born were automatically added to the emperor’s harem and their eggs were assigned to male hosts either through lottery, sale, or special favour.

For the average Nef’eal males there were several other suitable alien races to choose mates from. Phyrax didn’t have to mate himself to a human.

Humans were the best alternative source of dairy to the general population of Nef’eal.

If well trained, some breeds of humans even made excellent companion pets or service animals, and bore a superficial resemblance to their Nef’eal masters.

Some humans were very intelligent, and could even use basic Nef’eal technology.

That didn’t mean they were at all literate, or that Bralix thought they should be allowed on the furniture.

Finally satisfied that they were on a course to a destination other than the nearest moon, Bralix locked the co-ordinates and cruising speed, then headed back to go check on his brother.

When he reached the doorway to his brother’s quarters, he braced his hands on the doorframe and took in the sight before him.

The naked human was spread out over Phyrax’s lap, her upper body draped over his arm to offer him her full breasts.

Phyrax’s lips were latched on to her left nipple, drinking her milk straight from the source in strong, slow pulls.

A small dribble of milk ran down the pale, soft flesh, and Bralix couldn’t tear his eyes away.

When last had he had real milk? Not that synthetic crap from the replicator, but real, rich, creamy milk? Saliva flooded his mouth, and Bralix could almost taste the remembered cream on his tongue.

He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “Would you care to share, brother?”

Phyrax released her nipple and held a little tighter. “She’s mine.”

“I don’t want to keep her,” Bralix said, irritated at Phyrax’s possessiveness. “All I want is milk.”

Phyrax sighed, relaxing his grip on his pet and nodded at the breast nearest Bralix. “Fine.”

Bralix approached, then knelt on the ground beside them, putting the offered breast at the right height for him. He glanced up at the human, who was watching him with big, dark eyes, then he bent his head and latched on to her nipple.

He felt her stiffen, especially when Phyrax latched on to the other breast, but a moment later she submitted and through his hand resting on her belly he could feel the tension leeching from her body.

But the flavour… He’d never tasted anything like this. Rich, warm and smooth… not even the human milk they’d milked from the domesticated livestock when he was a boy could compare.

Thinking to stimulate her let-down reflex even more by manually pleasuring her, he reached for her folds, only for his brother to smack his hand away. Bralix sighed, but kept his hands to himself after that.

Bralix and his brother drank together in companionable silence, the only sounds soft moans from their little human.

Her pleasure reminded his long-neglected cock that it’d been a while since he’d had a female of any species on her knees before him, and he closed his eyes to appreciate the mental image.

When Bralix finished, he sat back on his heels. Moments later Phyrax released the nipple he’d been suckling and ran his tongue in a long line over her pale skin, tracking the path of the dribble of milk.

“Phyrax,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering open to capture his brother’s gaze. And then she smiled.

Phyrax caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, then gathered her against his chest, immobilizing her in his arms. “Bralix, I need your help: there’s a symbiote jar in my bedside drawer,” he said softly.

Bralix felt his stomach drop. Symbiotes were expensive, and generally reserved for Nef’eal who travelled, or prospective alien mates. One did not waste symbiotes on pets. “Brother, think about this.”

“I have thought about this,” Phyrax said. “She’s my mate.”

“She’s your pet,” Bralix corrected him softly.

“She’s my mate,” Phyrax insisted. “Will you please help me to implant the symbiote?”

Bralix sighed and stood to dim the light to almost nothing, then retrieved the small, opaque jar.

He unscrewed the lid, and gently coaxing the tiny creature out of the dark container with index and middle fingers, he noticed something curious.

Normally these symbiotes were only handled in little to no light in order not to injure the delicate creatures that lived their entire lives in the dark.

Whoever had transferred this one from the breeding tank had accidentally transferred two instead of one into this jar.

Bonus.

He carefully closed the container with one symbiote still inside, careful not to pinch any of its tentacles in the screwthread of the jar, then held the other tiny creature up to the human’s ear.

“What are you doing?” She asked nervously, but Phyrax flattened a palm on her skull and held her head immobile against his shoulder. “No, please, let me go.”

“Please hurry,” Phyrax said, his jaw tense.”

“No, please don’t. Please take it away.” She squirmed and struggled, but Phyrax’s grip was implacable. “Please! Let me go! No!”

Eager to escape to where it was dark and quiet, the photophobic symbiote reached out to the human’s ear and squeezed itself into the dark canal. The human screamed, a gut-clenching sound that unknowingly scared the symbiote into hastening its journey into her brain.

Seeing Phyrax’s expression as the human struggled and screamed in pain and fear gave Bralix pause.

They’d grown up on a ranch, raising various species of animals, including humans.

They’d tagged ears, branded hides, and other procedures that, while not pleasant, were necessary for their livestock’s welfare, and neither Bralix nor Phyrax had thought about it twice.

But Phyrax wasn’t reacting as if this was just another heifer in his care; he acted as if he were the one in pain.

Finally, the fight left the little human in Phyrax’s arms, and she dissolved into weeping.

“I know,” Phyrax murmured, holding and rocking her. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry.” He glanced up at Bralix. “Don’t forget the gel—quickly.”

Bralix picked up the prepped syringe, and working as quickly as possible, he squirted the bio-gel into her ear then wiggled the base of the ear to work the gel as deeply into the ear as possible.

This gel would promote healing, repair the perforated eardrum, and dull the pain, shortening the recovery from several weeks to just a few hours.

Bralix pocketed the spent syringe and the spare symbiote, then rubbed the human’s back in soothing circles. “Good girl,” he murmured, but she didn’t even look at him, lost in her weeping as he left.

In the hallway outside Phyrax’s quarters he paused, touching the hard outline of the jar with the spare symbiote through his pocket, and for the first time, Bralix felt a little uncertain about where the line between pet and mate really was.