* * *
Penelope
The door to my little retreat opens.
There is a beast there, a panting, growling, needful beast. My fingers stall at the entrance to my body, my juices sliding down the soft petals of my lips. I look at him, and I see my destiny.
He comes to me, going from monstrous height down to bended knee. I allow him onto my little platform bed, not knowing if it will hold both our weight and not particularly caring.
I have been touching myself with him in mind. I have seen his eyes in my mind, glaring into mine. I know he is dangerous. I also know that if the females outside the door allowed him to pass they sense no malicious intent in him. His throbbing red cock says it all. He came here to mate me.
I feel his heat, his muscle, his rough pelt against my body as he crawls up between my thighs. Humans have soft foreplay and ritual before copulation begins. His species does not have any such traditions. I have seen how the wild ones mate. When a female is in heat, her male mounts her and satisfies her. That is what he intends to do with me.
He slides his rough clawed hand beneath my head and grasps a thick handful of my hair.
“I am going to fuck you, human.”
I look into his eyes and I know that there is choice, if I want it. If I were to scream, he would be ripped apart. He comes to me with this impossibly overbearing dominant energy, but it is up to me whether or not I accept him inside.
“Yes,” I reply. “You are.”
He emits a soft growl of what I think might be satisfaction. “But first, I am going to punish you. And you are going to submit to that punishment, because you know you deserve it.”
This guy has some fucking nerve. No. Actually. It’s not nerve. It’s pure dominance. It’s the energy that a leader has. The wild things might have knocked him around a bit, but they’ve done nothing to change that about him. I can feel myself responding to it, wanting to submit to him. It’s so strange, but then again everything on this planet is strange. I barely recognize myself anymore.
“Punish me?”
* * *
Volt
She asks the question so softly. I expected her to launch into some arrogant human refusal, but there is curiosity and even a little allure in the way her eyes flick over my face, searching for some kind of indication of what I want from her. She doesn’t know. She’s an innocent. A guilty little innocent. Everything she has done has been out of thoughtless human self-interest. It does not occur to her that she is deeply in the wrong.
I will enjoy spanking her.
I sit on the bedding she has made for herself. It creaks with the effort to take my weight, but it seems sturdy enough for my purposes. Taking her by the hand, I draw her over my lap slowly. I do not want to spook her. If she starts screaming with fear in her voice, the wild ones will be in here in an instant, eviscerating me.
I think I can spank this human in the way she deserves. I think I can make her moan and wail with a different energy, one that will satisfy and please the wild ones.
“What…” She begins to ask a question. I cut it off with my palm over her mouth. She will want to talk, this human. It is what they do. They make small mouth noises at one another and think they will come to resolutions that way. But that is not how conflicts are resolved in nature. Matters like these can only be settled in the flesh.
Her under-claddings are easily removed, they slide down over her rear and thighs, exposing the soft human flesh so typical of their species. Her ass is generous and round, a perfect target for my ire. I feel my cock stirring and extending from my sheath. This sight is enough to make any male want to bury himself between those rounds, but that is not where I want to start. I don’t want to just fuck this human. I want to claim her. I want her to be mine in every way.
I run my palm over her cheeks. They feel just as they look, soft and warm. Soon they will be hot and squirming.
A single slap to test her temperament reveals that she is not used to punishment. She jolts against me and lets out a whine that I know will make the wild ones’ ears prick up.
“Breathe in, and breathe out,” I tell her, because she needs the words. “When it hurts, breathe, and relax.”
“Why?” She whimpers one word that holds a great many questions.