Chapter 1 #7
“I doubt it,” she says. “They were special.”
“I am sorry,” I say. “So much of life is having and then losing special things. But we have to move forward, pet. There is no going back, not to what was, or to who we were.”
She rejects my attempt at comfort with a scowl. “Is that garbled nonsense supposed to mean something?”
She is a salty little thing, with a sharp tongue. I would like to soften that a little, because it is verging on disrespectful. Actually, no. It’s not verging. It’s taking a giant leap directly into a large vat of disrespect.
“It means accept your fate.”
She treats me to a very agitated expression. “No,” she says. “I won’t.”
“I could spank you until you cried.”
“I could stab you.”
Fair. Threats beget threats. Better to show her what is going to come her way if she does not settle. I take a breath and recalibrate. It is ridiculous for one such as I to become embroiled in a power struggle with a simple little human like her.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I tell her. “I won’t allow it. The amount of danger you are in at all times as an unattended human cannot be overstated, and I think you know it. There’s a decent chance that you could have been taken in that net to the kitchen.”
“Yeah,” she scowls. “But that’s illegal.”
“Not in deep space,” I remind her. “Stations are under galactic treaties, but where we are now, no laws apply but the laws of what can be gotten away with and what cannot be gotten away with.”
She pouts, but she stops arguing. She very narrowly avoided ending up being a set of delicacies on the captain’s table, I am sure.
It’s going to be time to move on from this place very soon.
The whole interlude with her and the captain and the momentary lapse of my clothing illusion is going to start to sink into the consciousnesses of the crew and we might soon find ourselves on the wrong end of questions that will not be comfortable for me to answer.
“You’re a sweet girl,” I tell her. “You don’t need to be so furious at me.”
“Am I? Sweet? You don’t even know me. I could be any kind of woman. I could be the kind of woman who gets expelled from her colony and set adrift in space on a ship.”
“Is that what happened?”
“No. Of course not. I wanted to go.”
“Did you?”
“I just said I did. Didn’t I?”
She’s defensive. I could probe her mind a little more. Perhaps I should. The first time I tried to feel her, all I got was panic, but she had just been about to drown in an impenetrable spaceship, so I did not get a lot of sense from her.
Now, when I reach into her mind, I find a very different scene. I see a dusty planet with a red hue, fields of failing crops, and a whole host of people surrounding her. Older men with long beards and blue jeans.
“Go to the sun!” They are shouting the instruction at her, as if such a thing would be possible.
I think, at first, that I am understanding the memory incorrectly. But it is playing over in her mind as she attempts to deny the contents of it, and I am able to understand the darker undertones of what is happening.
It is a sacrifice, I believe. They wished to send her to the sun, to burn the shuttle, and her in the process, and to receive rain in return. There are ancient rituals of this nature, going back tens of thousands of years. But I confess, I find them barbaric and senseless in the extreme.
My reaction is stronger than hers. The energy of the memory is a mixture of misery and resignation. I do not sense fear. She was prepared to be sent out into the void of space to pay for the sins of her people. But at the last moment, she chose a different path. I wonder why.
“Pet,” I say as I slide from her mind.
“Why do you suddenly look sorry for me?” She narrows her eyes at me. “You were in my head, weren’t you? You’re some kind of psychic monster. Fuck. Get out of my brain.”
That was a quick conclusion to come to. I wonder if she felt me in there with her. She is a sensitive little thing.
“I’m sorry they did that to you.”
“I’m not. And shut up. I can get rain for them. I just have to try hard.”
“How can you get rain?”
“I’m not telling you,” she scowls. “I was right. Wasn’t I? You were in my head. You can fuck with people’s brains. You can make them think things. And you can alter what they see.”
“Yes.”
My admission takes much of the hostility out of her accusations. I see her face relax from annoyance into pure curiosity.
“How?”
“It is a function of who and what I am.”
She looks at me with wide eyes. “What am I thinking now?”
“You’re thinking that you’d like chocolate pudding, a spanking, and to be fucked to bed.”
“I am not,” she blushes. “You didn’t even try.”
“I didn’t have to. Some things are just obvious. I know what you need, pet. And the first thing is to be held to account for trying to leave without me. Now come here and let me put you over my knee.”
She blushes even more intensely, but it won’t stop me from doing just as I said. I take her by the hand, and I let my hand make gentle, but firm contact with her rear.
I like the way her ass feels under my hand. I like how soft, round, and yielding it is. I sit on the bed and I pull her over my lap.
She does not fight, because I have her mentally pinned as well as physically. She won’t feel it as anything other than a firm touch, but it will be effective. Her simple human brain makes this easy. I decide to see if I can interface with her with a thought.
Stay still for me, pet, I think to her. Be a good girl and take the discipline you need. I am not like the ones you fled from. I will not leave you to your own devices, or send you off as a sacrifice. You are mine now. My little stray. I have found you, and I am going to claim you.
She might not be able to hear my words inside her mind, but she can sense the feeling they are designed to impart.
She settles over my thighs nicely, and softly compared to how she was just moments ago. There is submission and elegance in her movements as I peel the lower parts of her snug uniform down over her thighs, exposing the soft rounds of her human ass.
I draw in a breath of appreciation as she undulates over my thighs. This is such a primitive way to handle another being, but I knew she would respond to it, and the sensations I feel coming from her are already delicious.
I didn’t think I’d be interested in sex for another thousand years or so. After the rigors of being held prisoner and experiencing experiments designed in clumsy painful ways, I thought I would need a long time to recover. But something about this little human is deeply rejuvenating.
I close my eyes for a moment, and I remind myself that those who hurt me could very well no longer exist if I so desired it enough.
I have the power to remove their bloodlines from the continuum of space and time.
It is frowned upon for a Psyon to use their power in such a way, but I am starting to think it should be the cost of trapping one of my kind. Complete and total devastation.
She whimpers and wriggles, almost as if she is trying to remind me that she is here and ready to be handled.
I sense quite a lot of receptivity in my pet.
She doesn’t want to be treated as though she is a weak little creature who can be carried off at a moment’s notice, but she likes feeling smaller and held and entirely contained and controlled.
I know this because her body is emitting a series of pheromones that strongly indicate her enjoyment.
I let my hand rub lightly over her cheeks. She is so soft. So delicate. I will have to be careful not to hurt her when I spank her.
“When I give you an order, pet, you must obey it,” I say, lifting my palm and letting it fall with enough force to ensure that there’s sting.
Her little yelp tells me I achieved what I wanted to. I want it to be sharp enough to get her attention. I want her to remember this next time she is considering becoming a disobedient problem.
“You didn’t give me an order!”
“You’re right. I’ll give you one now. Don’t ever run off without me.
Ever. If I leave you somewhere, you stay there.
I am going to keep you safe. I am going to show you parts of the universe no other human has ever seen.
I am going to look after you in every way you can imagine.
The cost of all of that is obedience. It is the price you will pay whether you like that or not. ”
“I don’t get a choice?”
“Pets do not get to choose their owners, pet. Pets are taken, the way you have been.” I smooth my hand over her cheeks, then smack her again. The sensation is pleasing. The way her flesh bounces beneath my hand makes my cock twitch with growing arousal.
I want to be inside her, but first I am going to make sure she understands her place with me.
I want her to feel it in her body. These words are effective for stoking her responses, but she won’t really know anything until each and every one of her cells knows it.
That is how humans are. They are beautifully physical creatures able to turn thought into matter with an uncanny ability.
Most alien species regard humans as primitive because of their limited mental telepathy abilities, and their reliance on physical communication styles. Sound, for instance. Barely any alien species use sound anymore. But humans are addicted to it.
I am enjoying the sounds she is making too.
She is incredibly expressive. All she has are the physical movements of this darling body, and the sounds she can make, and she uses both to alluring advantage.
My species tends to be very still during mating because the psychic connection is so strong.
Usually there is no movement at all after insertion has occurred.
It was not that way at all when she and I mated.
The urge to thrust and ravage her was uncontrollable.