The king’s demeanor shifted. He smiled in satisfaction. Yes. There it was. The ego at the core of all men. There was not a straight male in the universe who did not want his penis praised by a breathless, utterly awed female.
“It is large,” he agreed. “But you would be surprised at the many places this cock has gone.”
His tone implied that she was not going to be let off the hook of handling his huge member. If anything, he seemed to like the fact that she would struggle with his manhood.
“I’m not doubting the no-doubt magnificent alacrity of your cock. But my body is much weaker than yours. You would harm me greatly. And then you would never discover my secrets…”
“So you admit you have secrets.”
Elizabeth was playing a very dangerous game, but there weren’t any other games available to play. From the moment she had been sucked up from Earth by accident, all the games had been dangerous. She was stuck in survival mode, and that didn’t change because she found herself in the custody of an angry alien king.
“I have some secrets. I know much about the human world…”
“So you admit you were sent to spy by the humans.”
“Well, we are a curious species. And for the most part, we are entirely unaware of what aliens are like.” As she spoke, she eyed his cock warily. It was still very much erect and apparently interested in her. She felt continual stirring of interest, but it did not feel like a safe interest. It would be much better if he put it away, though she knew the sight of that thing was going to be burned into her brain for a very long time. Probably forever.
Chapter 3
The human was staring at his cock with wide eyes and an expression of either horror, interest, or both. Konan wondered if it was because she was committing it to memory in order to be able to adequately describe it in some of her narrations or scribblings. This human could not be trusted. She had shifty little brown eyes which remained small even when they were opened as wide as they could go to take in the might and majesty of his appendage.
He found it most gratifying to see fear and respect in her eyes. She was right. She was very small compared to him, less than three-quarters of his size. She was also very fleshy and smooth and quite curvy. It looked to him as though she was overclothed, perhaps in an effort to protect her skin from the vicious fumes which occasionally blew through the Golden City.
Konan knew relatively little about humans. They were not an interesting species. Their planet was unremarkable, their species had no interstellar flight capacities, and their probes were routinely hijacked by young soldiers who sent back misleading information as a joke.
But her story was an interesting one, if it was to be believed at all.
“Tell me why Dominax took a human.”
“Well. From what I overheard while I was hiding, another king named Archon had married a human female, Dominax wanted to keep one as a pet.”
“So your species is becoming fashionable among royalty. That might make you valuable. I might keep you intact.”
“Very kind of you, sire.”
She had a kind of natural slipperiness, a way of telling him what he wanted to hear. That was somewhat endearing, he supposed. Konan liked to have peons who stroked his ego and inflated his self-worth. Who wouldn’t? A peon which failed to please the king was a peon who would soon be out of a position.
However, the ego stroking made him suspicious, being as it was, an absolutely transparent attempt at manipulating him. She thought she was so sly with her breathless praise and endless words, but he could see the real truth in her eyes — she was afraid of him, and of his cock. It was the truth he reacted to, not the petty lies overlaid on it in an effort to survive.
“How do I understand what you’re saying?” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You speak my language perfectly, human, and yet you claim never to have come into contact with my species before.”
“Oh. That’s easy. I’ve been fitted with a babbler worm. They give them out free at Dominax’s port.”
“Sounds derivative,” Konan grunted.
“Derivative, but not directly plagiaristic, which is what matters.”
“Arguable.”
“Perhaps. But who is here to argue it?”
“I am.”
“So you are,” she agreed, inclining her head to acknowledge his greater talent for argument.
“Anyway,” the king sighed. “It is fortunate that I understand you, or else I might have thought you were a food-class species. You could be inside a pie at this very moment, being baked for the crew’s dinner.”
“Is that a threat? Because if it is, there’s not much I can do about it.”