Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
ETHAN
Istare at the woman in front of me, my body locked in rigid shock. There’s no way any of this can be a dream or a hallucination. From what I understand, I can’t conjure up things I’ve never seen before. First the medication and then this nubile vision in front of me?
Even with her suit on, I can tell she’s curvy beyond compare. She’s certainly a photographer’s wet dream. Who am I kidding? She’s my wet dream.
My cock pulses painfully between us as she kneels down to the ground. Part of my brain screams out to reject her advances, seeing as all of this is under duress, but let’s face it. She’s the hottest woman I’ve seen, even with her blue skin and luscious navy lips.
“I do not wish to hurt you, human. Please, tell me how to pleasure you.”
There’s something in her voice, something soft and vulnerable. It cries out to me, demanding I drag her to the ground and show her who’s really in charge. But then, I’m not.
As much as I want to dominate her, to hear her cry out my name on parted lips, I’m not in control. From the moment I woke up on that weird ship, I lost all my control. Alien. That’s the only explanation for what’s going on with me. It’s certainly more palatable than a nervous breakdown.
I study the alien kneeling before me, noting the hitch in her breath, the way her breasts heave as she looks up at me with a longing I’ve never seen on a woman before. She wants this. I know she does. But how will this work if she commands my very speech, my very way of being?
Still though, it wouldn’t hurt to try to see if there’s a crack in her armor, something I can use as leverage to leave this place. And then what? My brain whispers to me in that low, insidious voice that I’ve come to detest. Where will you go?
Ketamine and lorazepam. Two drugs that shouldn’t be in my system. I know I was self destructive on Earth, but I also know what I put into my body. I’ve never touched those drugs. I only ever tried to destroy myself with alcohol and then took Xanax at Jeffrey’s insistence.
Pain slices through my skull as I try to get my brain to work. Nothing and everything make sense at the same time, but none of it wants to go in an orderly fashion. A soft growl flits from my lips as I rush forward and tackle this so-called Mistress Rancher to the ground.
A soft shout peppers the air, but it sounds far more like a moan than any actual cry for help. I stare down at her, my balls tightening even more to the point where I’m worried I’ll be permanently damaged soon. Could it be she does actually like this?
As much as I’ve wanted to indulge these darker urges of mine, I’ve never had the chance.
Models care so much about their looks that I don’t even dare to touch them in any other way than handling them as if they were peaches—so luscious yet easily bruised.
The Mistress Rancher beneath me looks up at me in what I can only say is awe.
It’s a feeling that allows air to fill my lungs for the first time since waking up in a strange place.
This feels so normal, so right. Despite the fact that she’s very much an alien, I feel as if I belong here with her.
It must be something they put in my brain when they made it so I can understand what they’re saying.
Nothing else makes sense. I should be disgusted with her, with all of this. But I’m not. Psychotic break it is then. If I’m to be locked up in a padded room, I might as well enjoy the ride.
“I’m stronger than I look, Mistress Rancher,” I breathe against her skin before trailing my lips up her neck. “Can you really take me on?”
At once, she stills beneath me. Her lips screw up into a fierce frown. Somehow, it takes very little effort for her to shove me off. Groaning, I lie over onto my side and roll up into the fetal position as shakes wrack my body. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.
“Listen here, bull,” she hisses, leaning so close to me that her breasts brush my shoulder. “I am the one in charge. You are not. You better hope I decide to relieve you after that stunt you pulled.”
“You- you liked it,” I rasp out, clutching my shoulders as the shaking gets worse.
“What’s wrong?” It’s as if a different person takes her place.
For all her blustering and high-handed ways, she’s tender when I show any sign of discomfort. Though I revel in the way her hands run up and down my body, I detest the hot and cold nature to which I’m afflicted. Honestly, despite all that, I just want to get off and go to sleep.
With gentle hands, she helps me turn over onto my back. Movement of any kind causes pain to twist and contort my body. It’s not the blue balls, but it doesn’t help any.
“Please,” she murmurs. “Instruct me.”
“Permission to touch you?”
“Always,” she breathes.
My gaze catches hers as silence stretches out between us. I’m not sure if she actually wants to take it back or not, but the words are out there. I reach out my hand and lay it flat, waiting for her to put hers in mine.
A ragged groan slips past the barrier of gritted teeth as I wrap her palm around my shaft. She can barely close her fingers around all of me. It feels like heaven and hell all in one breath.
Pain splinters along my shaft as I move her hand up and down in easy, gentle motions. No matter how soft I keep her touch, each stroke jerks my balls, causing an unholy amalgamation of pain and pleasure. I can tell she’s trying to be gentle, though, and that means the world to me right now.
In some ways, I’m used to this. I’ve gotten off when suffering like this before. But now, the discomfort is nearly triple what I’ve dealt with before. It must be because everything is so much bigger. It only stands to reason that I’d feel the agony that much more.
Letting go of her hand, I lie back against the soft grasses and close my eyes.
Her movements are flawless, stroking and twisting in a way that has the pleasure edging out the pain until I’m nearly humming with unspent need.
Precum drips from my tip and coats her hands, providing a bit of lubricant as she moves.
After a few more strokes, she stops and leans down, putting her lips against my sensitive tip.
The first lick is tentative, as if she’s not sure what I’ll taste or feel like.
The next lick is a bit more exploratory as she drags her tongue over my slit and gathers up the precum as it leaks out of me.
Her hum of satisfaction vibrates against my tip, causing me to buck up against her questing mouth. Without further hesitation, she opens her jaw wide and takes me in as far as she can go. Her tongue laps at my underside, gathering every drop of me she can.
Though I’ve had blow jobs before, this one is out of this world—figuratively and literally. Frantic, keening moans constrict her throat around me until stars shoot from behind my eyelids. Unable to help myself, I slide my hands forward and bury them in her soft hair.
It feels like satin and silk combined, like midnight promises and whispered profanities only God can hear. Groaning, I grip the strands in my hands and hold her head how I want it as I thrust into her mouth. To her credit, she doesn’t shove off of me.
Instead of a reprisal like I feared, she hums deep in the back of her throat as she works me over. Precum, spit, and sweat coat my lower half as she bobs her head over me like a practiced artisan in the way of giving head. Pulling her back, I stare into her blue eyes, nearly black with lust.
“I want you beneath me,” I growl. “I want to fuck that pretty face of yours, to have you quiver under me as I spill my cum into your awaiting lips.”
Where the fuck did that come from? I knew I had a dominant streak in me, but I’ve never been so poetic about it. For a moment, she merely stares up at me, her lips parted while I watch her. Now’s the time when she’ll reprimand me and remind me of my place. I just know it.
“We can’t,” she eventually murmurs. “On Icora, we Ranchers are the ones in charge. We cannot give our herd any leeway.”
Leaning forward, I cup her cheek and slide my thumb over her bottom lip. “But you’d like to?”
The Mistress Rancher glances at the door behind us. “I- It’s. It’s complicated. As a rare female Rancher, I’m even more suspect. I can’t... We can’t...”
“Shhhhhh. I understand. Trust me. I understand. The walls have eyes, Even somewhere as intimate as here?”
Her breath releases on a soft whoosh. “Then you do understand. Not eyes, mind you. That would be creepy. But there are watchers everywhere.”
For a moment, a soft laugh nearly bubbles up out of my chest. These interactions between us are so innocent, so oddly peculiar. But then, how would another planet know our idioms and ways of saying things?
My lips tilt up into a smirk as I lie back and slide my hands under my head. I may not be able to dominate her here where anyone can walk in and see us, but I can still control the situation. “Have your way with me, Mistress.”
I don’t even have to ask twice. As if she’s a woman starved for water in a desert, she descends on my cock. It takes every ounce of willpower to keep my hands where they are and not guide her movements. Not that I want to.
Each constriction of her throat around my tip has me grunting in that mixture of pleasure and pain.
She pulls the need out of me with every lap of her tongue on the underside of my shaft.
This orgasm is going to hurt like hell, but I want nothing more than to spill inside that skillful mouth of hers.
Despite how good it feels, nothing happens. I want to come so badly I can taste it. I’m nearly feral with the need to come, to feel the relief I know will follow after I empty myself.
Desperation coats every breath as I thrust my hips up, pistoning in and out as my frustration mounts. We stay locked in this stalemate for what feels like an eternity with no end in sight. I clench my fingers into fists as I send up every prayer I can think of for me to just fucking come.
I’ve never had this problem before with any of my lovers, and this Mistress Rancher is far more decadent and skilled than they were. Something’s wrong. It has to be. It’s probably that fucking serum.
After a few more agonizing moments, her hands drift down over my balls. Every small touch makes them cramp up and tighten even further. The pain stills my breath and distracts me for a moment, taking my mind off of the building frustration.
But she’s not fondling them. It takes her a moment or two, but she releases the rings constricting me.
As if a flip is switched, my balls tighten the rest of the way up as my cock twitches between her lips.
Now, all it takes is a few more strokes with her beguiling mouth and that familiar tingle goes up my spine.
I barely have time to warn her before cum shoots out of my cock and into her throat.
Relief and pain war within me as everything drains out and into her.
Only... it keeps going. Far longer than I expect, cum continues to flow out of my cock and into her mouth until it dribbles down the side and over her chin.
Pulling back, she continues to stroke me, far past the usual need to stop because it’s so sensitive. Whatever they injected me with, it morphs that familiar pain into what I can only describe as a never-ending orgasm. Lurid groans drip from my lips as I revel in the pleasure overtaking my body.
Finally, her strokes begin to slow as the last of my cum dribbles from the tip. “Wow,” she breathes, looking at me in awe. “Is this how humans release?”
“Not quite,” I rasp, doing my best to gather in oxygen. “Not nearly this much.”
Further words escape me as I lie back and stare at the wooden beams in the roof of the barn.
They’re so familiar, so like home. Yet, like everything else on this strange planet, it’s so different.
I lie there and breathe, forcing myself to compare things to my dad’s farm back home, but all I want to do is sleep.
“That’s at least something you have in common with Icorians,” she teases, running her palm over my balls in a soothing manner. “Once they release, they want to take a nap. I suppose you are not all that different.”
“In my defense,” I groan, bludgeoning my brain into working. “My blue balls weren’t actually blue.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
As I roll over to my side to get up to my feet, the barn door opens. “Mistress Rancher,” a blue man in a white jacket calls out. “I was told to see to your bull? How did the first milking go?”
Irritation crawls up my spine as I do my best to hide the evidence of all the cum scattered about the floor. With a soft smile, she lays a hand on my forearm and stands to address the newcomer.
“Better than expected. Only, the rings put in place were preventing him from ejaculation.”
It feels so odd, so degrading sitting here while they talk about my cum and ability to orgasm. It’s as if I don’t actually exist. I guess I was just deluding myself into thinking the Mistress Rancher saw anything in me other than a body.
“All that’s left is to put him in hooves and tail, and then we will be on our way.”
Everything stops short in that one moment. Hooves and tail? Where the fuck is the tail supposed to go? Because it sure as hell isn’t going into my ass.