Chapter 12
Once again, my mates are discussing me while they think I am sleeping. I love overhearing these conversations. They are the only times I get to hear what my mates really think rather than what they want me to hear them say. They censor themselves around me quite often.
“I think we should breed her as soon as possible. The reason they tried to stop her from being bred was because they knew her loyalties would transfer to the baby. We breed her, we keep her,” Kronos says.
“I’m fairly certain we keep her either way,” Sharp says. “She is in love with us.”
“She doesn’t say it,” Boss grunts.
I feel a little pang of guilt. I wonder why Sharp is so certain, and why Boss is so unsure.
“The vet’s report showed high levels of oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin. Lab reports don’t lie. She physically loves us,” Sharp says with complete confidence. “That’s what matters. What we need to decide is who breeds her first. I suggest myself.”
“Of course you do,” Kronos says. “Why?”
“Because my species is born relatively small, and slippery. We want her first birth to be easy.”
“I think we should take the fourth option,” Kronos says.
“There are three of us. How could there be a fourth option? I have no intention of letting any human get his sweaty little pud near her,” Sharp says, his disdain for human males incredibly, hilariously evident.
“We take our DNA and we mix it in a lab. We create an infant that is biologically half all of us, and half her.”
“That’s insane,” Boss grunts. “I want to look at my son and see my horns, and my eyes, and my snout. I suppose he could have two dicks, if he wants.”
“Why are you assuming it would be a boy?”
“I want a son,” Boss says.
“In my species, having a female first child is considered auspicious,” Sharp says. “I would prefer the first baby be a girl, and I would prefer it be mine.”
“We could fight for it,” Kronos suggests. “Sharp vs. Boss. Winner gets to knock her up first, theoretically.”
“What do you mean, theoretically?” Boss asks.
“I mean, it’s going to come down to whose swimmers are the most compatible with her, and which one hits the egg first. We can argue all we want, in the end, it’s who is buried in her pussy when she’s most fertile who will win,” he says. “We all fuck her.”
“Then whoever wins gets sole breeding rights. A full month of solo access to her pussy.”
“What if she wants to fuck another one of us?” Boss comes in with another good question.
“What she wants doesn’t…”
Alright. That’s e-fucking-nough.
“I’m a woman, not a fucking breeding machine,” I say, stomping into the room. “What if I don’t want to breed at all, huh? What about that? What if you all take your cum and finish inside each other instead? What if I never fuck any of you Neanderthal monsters again?”
“Calm down,” Boss says.
I slap him. Hard. Across the snout.
The sound echoes through the sudden silence of the room. He looks at me.
I know I’ve fucked up.
But I’m not going to admit it. The conversation they were having about me was completely disgusting. It denied my humanity. It turned me into an object for their use.
“Come here,” Boss says, his deep voice rumbling dangerously soft.
“I am here,” I say, much deflated. I hate how someone else can be doing something horrible and wrong, but the second I cross a line it’s like I was the only one who ever did anything.
He reaches out, wraps his hand around my wrist, and pulls me close to him, speaking in my ear in that same dangerously patient tone. “You know that was wrong to do, don’t you?”
I squirm, feeling a flush of hot guilt.
“I guess,” I say, not wanting to admit to it.
“Say sorry,” he says, his other hand sliding around my hip to cup my ass.
“Sorry,” I squeak.
He pats my butt. “Good girl.”
Then he lets me go. I have the feeling I dodged, well, not a bullet. Maybe the horns.
“You do have some right to determine the fate of your body,” Sharp says. “But…”
“Stop,” I say. “There’s no but.”
“We are going to breed you,” he says firmly. “We want it, and deep down, you want it too.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because if you didn’t, you would be screaming that in our faces,” he says.
“Didn’t I just do that?”
“Not entirely. You asked us what if. You didn’t say you didn’t want it. But tell us if that is the case, pet. We are here. We are listening. Tell us you do not want us to take turns pumping our seed deep inside that tight little pussy of yours, making you orgasm, and draw it inside your body…”
I find myself blushing again. There is something about a creature as refined as Sharp saying such perfectly filthy things that makes me react with a sort of uncontrollable arousal.
He reaches out and pulls me close, sliding his big, scaled hand down over my underwear and cupping my pussy. “You are responsive for us,” he says. “Your body has always begged us to be bred, and you will too… these sweet lips of yours will cry out for our cum.”
I want to give him a smart reply, but that is very hard to do while rocking my pussy over his fingers, trying to find just the right spot to stimulate my clit.
Sharp looks satisfied with himself, and with me.
My responsiveness has always pleased him.
No matter how rebellious I might seem, I melt when he touches me.
These three aliens have a hard line to parts of my body and my mind that nobody else ever has.
I yawn a little. It’s unavoidable, though I try to hide it.
My mates do not miss it. Not even a little.
“She should rest,” Kronos says. “It has been a big day for her, and a long examination.”
“You’re right,” Sharp agrees.
Boss nods.
I am sent back to bed, not having made any impression on them at all regarding my sexual liberation. They believe I am theirs, made for their use, and there is nothing I can do to change their minds.
I fall asleep somewhat frustrated by it all, but also awash in the aftermath of the sensations of the vet’s drugs. I truly did feel so incredibly good with whatever it was he gave me. I wonder if I could get more. I bet full sex with that stuff on board would be absolutely transcendent.
I wake in what feels like the middle of the night, to strong arms sliding under my back and my knees, lifting me from my bed. I am wearing a light nightgown, because the ship is always warm, and nothing else.
When I open my eyes, I see Kronos. He looks down at me with his handsome barbaric yet alien features and flickers a little wink at me.
“Shhh,” he whispers.
He carries me out of the ship, never once putting me down, and takes me through the station. It’s night now, and the sky is absolutely fantastic. Three moons are clear above us, one red, one blue, and one green, all hanging about in orbit of a distant planet around which the station also orbits.
“Are we supposed to be doing this?” I giggle the question, because I can already feel in my gut that the answer is no.
He doesn’t answer, so I try again.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you,” Kronos says simply. “They can talk about this all they want, but there is only one thing to be done, and we all know it.”
He carries me into a park at the outskirts, where terraforming has created a hilly grassy area with great big bushes of pretty alien flowers that provide privacy for what feels very much like an area designed for illicit trysts.
Underneath three moons, he lies down with me in the grass and peels my nightgown up and over my head, leaving me naked in the multicolored moonlight. His big hands roam my body, stroking, caressing, and spreading my legs.
He has worn a loincloth and a shirt and boots. The shirt is open; the loincloth is not an impediment to the thick scimitar of his cock rising against me. I lie back, fascinated, aroused, and enjoying the feeling of being somehow naughty with Kronos.
My mates have always taken me as they pleased. I have never heard them argue about who fucks me, or when. But there is something in his eyes, and in the way he stole me out of the ship that makes this interlude feel fun and conspiratorial.
He covers my body with his and uses his arms to keep himself propped up to avoid crushing me. My legs spread naturally around his hips, and I feel his cock slide up and down the length of my slit. I am still wet from earlier today. It feels as though my body has been primed to be fucked.
“I am going to breed you,” he growls. “I am going to come so deep inside your rebellious little fucking hole you swell with my child.”
It’s so wrong, but it’s so damn hot. Wait.
Is it wrong? I don’t know. When your whole life is dedicated to not getting pregnant, the very act of allowing yourself to have sex with someone who might breed you feels deliciously subversive.
There’s a part of my mind telling me that we are not meant to be doing this, that we should be safe, whatever that means in this context.
I never really used to consider the fact that I might get pregnant before.
There was something in the back of my mind that told me it couldn’t happen.
Maybe I knew about the chip somehow. I don’t remember knowing, but memory is so dodgy.
I feel him settle the hot, throbbing head of his cock at the entrance of my body. There has been barely any physical foreplay, but my body remains in that state of arousal conjured in my medical examination, and I coat the head of his alien rod with my own very human wetness.
“No,” I whimper, not meaning it at all.
“Yes,” he growls.
He thrusts his cock inside me in one hard, rough motion.
“Fuck!” I curse.
He pins me down and ruts me like an animal, his thick cock spreading me so fucking wide it feels like I can hardly take it. He is not being gentle. He is not being tender. He is mating me like the brutal fucking barbarian he is. He is staking his claim deep inside me.