Chapter Eight Correction
Chapter Eight
Correction
Selena
She awoke to the sound of lapping water—and a seething hot, soaking pussy. Her breasts were strangely warm and heavy. Even her anus seemed to throb ever so slightly.
“What… what happened?” Her voice was little more than a croak, moving her lips and tongue to form speech taking a conscious effort. Fortunately, her haze appeared to be wearing off rapidly.
She tried to sit up but something held her fast.
Then she remembered. It hadn’t all been a dream. The vines, the moss… it had come alive.
Oh, God!
“Hello, human.”
The sound of her own language, speech she actually recognized, shocked her into stillness. The voice was deep—very deep—and somewhere behind her. She tried to pivot her head back, but the merciless grip of the vines in her hair prevented her from so much as moving an inch.
“I… who is that? Why can’t I see you? Where are you? How… how can you understand me?”
“I’m here, with you. Be still for now. Your language is quite rudimentary, primitive even. But there are other ways of communicating as well.”
The sound of his voice was rich, flowing through her in a way that made her shiver, made parts of her awaken that had been asleep for far too many years.
“W-what does that… mean? Where am I?”
“You’re in my domain. You’re safe.”
The sloshing of water could be faintly heard.
“Safe? Are you kidding me? I’m… I’ve got fucking vines holding me prisoner! Living vines!”
“They would never hurt you. Quite the opposite, in fact. Which you’ll soon see. Your cursing is interesting though. Is this how your species greets strangers? We may have to address that.” More water sloshed, closer. “But for now, be still and quiet. I want a good look at you.”
In an instant the vines fell away, seeming to almost melt into the moss beneath her, the locks of her hair finally relaxing as the tendrils let go there as well.
Tellingly though, the vines—apparently sprouting from her flower garlands—still cinched tightly around her throbbing breasts, one of the vines cruelly compressing her hard nipples deep into the soft flesh, her breasts bulging obscenely between the two opposing strictures.
“What… shit, why is that…?”
She grunted in frustration as something took hold of her arms, squeezing her wrists together just shy of the point of pain.
It was a hand. A very large and strong hand.
No way is that human either.
That single hand held her arms above her, preventing her from using them at all.
“Why… please, let me go. I just want to be able to… scratch my nose, or something.”
“Does your nose itch?”
“Well… no.”
“Then you don’t need your hands,” the voice rumbled, a more serious note to the tone. “Be quiet. I won’t tell you again.”
Arms slipped underneath her, sweeping her up with a swiftness that disoriented her for a moment. Her feet made contact with the soft, deep moss, the feel of it quite delightful, despite her reticence to stand on something she knew could come alive at any moment once again.
Then she saw him. Or more to the point, saw his chest.
She glanced upward, unable to believe her eyes.
He was huge, easily the biggest man she’d ever seen.
Well over seven feet tall, he had the broadest shoulders imaginable, the heavily muscled plane of them seeming to stretch forever in either direction.
Twin slightly curved horns—the inner one larger, the outside one smaller—protruded from the bunched trapezius muscles at the middle of each shoulder.
His face wasn’t quite handsome. Rather it was more… diabolical.
Hair black as midnight, close cropped at the sides, but slightly longer elsewhere.
Facial hair, dense and wiry, but not at all wild, painted a strong, square jaw with more jet black, the whiskers heavier at the chin and upper lip.
A long, strong nose, dark—impossibly dark—eyes, and well-defined thick eyebrows completed the visage.
The look of him evoked a word she’d learned long ago during mythology research for a school project—Mephistophelian. Devilishly attractive, yet subtly malevolent.
Only she wasn’t sure malevolence was exactly what she felt from him.
His skin tone was something like a deep tan that had a subtle but noticeable purple note to it, truly the quintessence of dusky.
He crossed his arms across a broad, deep chest adorned with more dark hair, the sinews of the forearms flexing as his fingers moved.
The arms, crisscrossed with so many bulging veins they were like a roadmap of Planet Alpha Male, were as heavily packed with muscle as the giant shoulders, the biceps and forearms appearing easily strong enough to tear a steel plate in half.
His hands were massive indeed, the long fingers featuring something she hadn’t expected at all—talons.
They were narrow and strong, not much more than longer, sharpened nails, but they definitely appeared to be talons.
Daring a glance down, she almost swallowed her tongue.
He was entirely naked.
Bulging with a network of thick veins, his very erect penis was bigger than anything she’d ever seen on a man.
From a thatch of ink-black pubic hair it projected, the head broad and purplish, seemingly aimed directly at her face.
The huge balls were heavy, swollen, hanging between truly massive thighs powerful enough to hold up the very world.
There were even veins visible there too.
The sight caused a stirring deep in her belly, her sex heating in a way she didn’t like one bit. The cursed vine bisecting her pussy seemed even tighter—and slicker—against her vulnerable flesh.
Dammit!
Confronted with a huge, likely hostile alien was definitely not the time to become aroused… and yet there was no denying the mere presence of him was doing exactly that.
It was almost as if he’d checked off all her boxes for the darkest, most twisted fantasy male her fevered mind had ever conjured up.
“Uh… no, this isn’t…” She tried to back away but before she could so much as lift a foot, the vines gathered over her feet, pulling taut. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Just be still. You won’t be hurt, not beyond the spanking you’re going to get for being disobedient.”
“Disob—what the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t do anything!”
“No? Then why did the vines immobilize you?”
“How—?”
A dark brow arched. “I told you to be still. And you weren’t: the vines knew you were about to try to get away, so they held you there.”
“How… how do you know that?”
“That’s not important right now. What is important is that you learn something, and quickly. Which is that you are to do as you’re told. Do that, and you’ll be treated well. Don’t, and you’ll wish you had.”
Anger seething within her, despite her fear, she ground her teeth, knowing a sharp retort was unlikely to do her any good. “Okay. Just… I don’t even know your name. What do I call you?”
“My name is likely unpronounceable to you. You may call me Malcolm. For now.”
“For now? You expect that to… change?”
“In time, you’ll call me whatever I demand.”
How about Asshole? Yeah, I like that one.
He sighed.
From the vines constricting her breasts, two more extended out to either side, taking firm hold of her upper arms and wrenching them behind her.
She cried out as it bound itself over and over her joined forearms, the stretching at her shoulders just short of pain as she was trussed up still further, her limbs firmly locked together.
Her breasts, despite the laughably inadequate concealment offered by the garlands, were now obscenely presented, front and center, their bindings only deepening her mortification at her predicament.
“I was inclined to give you a chance to obey and keep your arms at your sides, but your attitude proves you’re not ready for such privileges.”
“Privileges! My freedom is a privilege now?”
“As I said, you’re in my domain now. Your construct of freedom isn’t an operative concept here. You’ll understand that, with time—and training.” He gave her a quirk of his sensual lips. “No matter. We’ll do this your way.”
Extending a finger, he delicately hooked a claw in the garland at her chest, flicking it away. He tapped the fingertip against the harsh vine bisecting her breasts, cruelly compressing her nipples. “Does this bother you?”
“Y-yes.”
He passed the fingertip over it, and it too fell away, seeming to melt into the moss and disappear entirely. She shook her head, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“I like these. Very responsive,” he murmured, tweaking each nipple in turn, his touch dexterous, entirely avoiding pricking her with his talons. She wondered if his claws had somehow retracted, or otherwise gotten smaller.
Taking his time, he made her nipples throb even harder as he pulled and rolled them none too gently. She bit off a squeak as he finished off by giving each one a hard pinch at the base, pain flaring bright and hot.
“I like this too.” He traced the pink line left across each breast from the merciless bisecting vine.
Then he poked at the bindings around her breasts, and they too loosened, dripping to the thick moss below. She breathed in deeply.
The huge hands took hold of her breasts squeezing them far more harshly than the bindings ever had. He did it again, watching her, drawing a gasp from her that wasn’t entirely from pain, the vine tight against her pussy growing even slicker with her wetness.
No!
The vines loosened suddenly, but before she could move a muscle, he’d taken hold of her shoulders, spinning her around until she faced away from him.
“Oh, God…”
She hated her ass, even in the best of circumstances. Her hips were much too wide, and her ass more than generous. It had been something she’d fought against in pilot school, the jumpsuits doing little to hide the dimensions of her figure. It attracted the wrong kind of attention.
She’d been determined to excel based on her skill set and determination, not because her instructors or fellow pilots drooled over her ”assets.”
To her mind, as an aspiring pilot, they were a lot more like liabilities.