Chapter 3
Evie
I am exhausted. I have never been this tired after a day of work.
I have also never been this sexually satisfied.
I don’t even want to walk. My legs protest with every step as we walk through this big ass building that is frankly not seeming as impressive as it once did now that I have to drag myself through it when I’d rather not.
Arkon turns around once or twice, slows for me, then finally gets the hint and just picks me up. I grin to myself, then giggle at the notion that he probably looks like a guy making off with the office printer.
To most of these aliens, I really am merely part of the tooling.
Drak made that clear with what he said, but the others make it obvious in the way their eyes run over me as if I am part of the furniture.
You don’t bother making eye contact with the photocopier, or chatting with a waiting room chair.
That’s the treatment I’m generally getting through my limited interactions.
I wonder why Arkon sees me so differently.
I’ll ask him when we’re alone, maybe. I want to know what he thinks, how he thinks. I want to know all about him.
“How did you get here?”
“We walked,” he says, taking my question in the most logical and therefore incorrect kind of way.
“No, I mean here to this place, doing these things?”
“Oh,” he says, shifting me slightly in his four arms. “Well, I am the oldest son, and in our family that means taking over the business of dominating all the territory we can possibly contain. This place is a very special one, because here we are developing tech that will put us in a position to dominate potentially the entire universe.”
“Oh,” I say. “So a very reasonable and achievable goal.”
He smirks. “Reasonable and achievable are not metrics that expansive civilizations tend to embrace. I am here because if I do not do this, someone else will. And that, my sweet human, is a terrible reason to do anything.”
“I was going to say,” I mumble. “But you’ve just made your peace with it?”
“I have found a purpose in it,” he says.
We are almost halfway back to his fancy alien penthouse now.
Others of his kind are milling about. Some of the younger ones are playing a game with a gleaming disc that flashes between them as they control it with what seems like their minds.
They’re wearing headbands with what look like transmitters on them.
I bet that’s part of the tech, maybe like an early prototype of it.
“What’s the purpose?”
He smiles down at me and shifts me in his arms again, this time so he can see me more clearly and try to understand why he is getting interrogated.
“Why all the questions?”
“I’m curious,” I say. “It’s good to be curious. Worst thing in the world, well, all the worlds, not to even be curious. But what about your family?”
“What about them?”
“Are you married? Do you have offspring?”
He chuckles at my bald attempt to work out if he is single or if he’s fondling me on the side. “My intimate and romantic attentions are all in one place,” he says. “And it is with you.”
My heart skips a beat. “But you don’t really know me, and I’m human?”
I feel the rhythm of his steps beneath me as he keeps walking, thinking how to respond to that question. I’m two fractions of a degree away from straight up asking him if he’s just love bombing me. I don’t know if aliens have that specific term, but I bet the act is universal.
“A wise human once wrote that your true friends will know you better in the first instant you meet than anyone else will know you in a thousand years. I felt an instant connection with you before I even saw you for the first time. I can’t explain it, but I know that when I feel something it is best to follow it.
The consequences for not doing so are missing out on things that were meant for me. You were meant for me.”
We have barely known one another two days at this point, and yet his words ring true to me.
I think it’s because what he’s saying are things I have already seen in his eyes, and felt in his touch.
Even when I was being toyed with in that captivity machine or whatever they would call it, I felt his care.
“Everyone else seems to think I’m no different than an animal, or like, a pretty smart robot, like one of the ones that can clean the floors or mow the lawns.”
“You reference very old Earth technology that has long been surpassed,” he muses. “But how they see you and how I see you might be different. I can’t say I care how they see you. I know how I feel.”
He’s carrying me up the stairs now and over the threshold of the door. I expect him to put me down, but he keeps a hold of me.
“Why don’t you have an alien wife?”
He laughs and lets me slide down to the floor once he has ensured that the front door is locked.
“I am dedicated to this work, in spite of what Drak might say,” he says. “And I cannot be in a comfortable house on a well-lit street making polite conversation at a dance being held for someone’s birthday and be happy. I need to be able to immerse myself in what has to be done.”
“You don’t wanna be normal,” I say.
“I was not made to be normal, and neither were you.”
“I guess not, given the twisted machine you made,” I smirk.
He smiles at me. “That was a collaboration. And it was necessary, and… yes,” he finally admits. “There is a certain twistedness to it, but I think it is going to work precisely as intended.”
“I’m going to rule the universe with my pussy?”
His smile becomes enigmatic. “That may be closer to the truth than you realize.”
“Say more,” I invite him.
“I’m starving,” he says. “And you are in real need of nourishment too, I’ll warrant. Let’s eat.”
* * *
He makes dinner for himself, and for me. I notice that he’s eating the alien equivalent of toast, which means he’s concerned about tempting me, or maybe feels bad that he has so much good stuff and I have so much nothing.
“I should put you in the cage while there are foodstuffs around that could harm you,” he says. “Or did you learn your lesson on that score well enough that I don’t have to do that?”
“I won’t do anything dumb,” I promise him. “I was just out of sorts this morning.”
“I will try and find you better things to eat,” he says. “I’m sorry the rations aren’t good.”
“I don’t really care too much,” I say. “There’s other stuff that feels good…”
He smirks at me. “I want you well fed as well as well…” He doesn’t finish that sentence because it should end with fucked and we both know I haven’t been fucked yet.
The sexual tension is so thick you could, well, fuck it.
He is looking at me, his eyes roaming my body, and I am locked in on him just as intensely.
I wait to see what he’s going to do with it, because I have no idea what should be done.
I was confused before, wondering how much of his approach was professional and how much personal. I am feeling less confused now.
“I should check to ensure that there’s nothing residually happening after the machine training today,” he says. “Come with me.”
I do as he says, following him all the way to the bedroom where that cage stands waiting for me. I don’t think I will ever find myself in it. He wants me outside it far too much.
“Remove your clothing,” he says.
“Are you just going to watch me?” I blush.
I don’t know why it feels so vulnerable to take my clothes off in front of him.
I know he doesn’t want me to just yank them off and dump them on the floor.
He wants something slower and more sensual, but I don’t have the confidence to strip for my boss. Not yet, anyway.
“Let me help you,” he says, taking pity on me. We come from opposite sides of the universe, but he still gets how things make me feel. That seems like a miracle to me.
All four of his hands skillfully undress me, sliding off my attire until I am standing in front of him entirely naked.
He has pulled me closer to get to the zips and buttons and things, and in doing so he has made the distance so minimal as to be intimate.
I reach out and touch the fabric covering his body, wishing I could make it disappear.
“Put your hands on the bed and bend over,” he says.
I do as I am told, and he gently nudges my feet apart, spreading me for his inspection.
I have spent much time in a similar position today, but I don’t think you ever get used to this.
Every time we touch, I am left a little more vulnerable.
I can feel myself softening for him, wanting him more than I did before. Am I falling in…
“I forget how short you are,” he says affectionately as he grips me by the hips and hoists me up to lie face down on the bed. He spreads my legs wider then, and I feel the bed sink a little as he leans down on it behind me.
I am being inspected by my alien boss, and I find myself flushing with arousal all over again.
“Don’t wriggle,” he warns me as my hips start to perform an old rhythmic twisting dance more or less on their own. “Stay still.”
When I can’t do that, because my body will not let me, because my harlot hips want to seduce him, he pins me down, one hand on the back of my neck.
He doesn’t have to use much of his strength to do that.
I am so much weaker than he is. Arkon could do quite literally anything to me and I would be at his mercy.
And then he says the words I’ve wanted to hear all day. He growls them so deeply I feel them resonate through me, traveling through his flesh and then through mine.
“I’m going to claim this pussy,” he purrs. “Is that what you want? Do you want to know what it feels like to have your tight little mating hole spread around both of my cocks, one after the other?”
I want that so much.