Her Brutal Alien (Alien Overlords)

“Not like me, Margaret. I hurt the ones who most deserve it. And I know you are guilty of the crimes I accused you of.”

“I make cheese scones and broth. I don't kill people. I especially don’t put on a suit to do it. Whatever you thought you knew about me, you're wrong.”

Margaret

“I have not lived as long as I have by being wrong, Margaret.” Tusk runs his claws down my neck. “Deny it all you like. I know the truth of you.”

He is not as certain as he pretends to be. If he truly believed I was this assassin he keeps talking about, I think he would kill me. He is furious at this unfound assassin. He wants revenge for the actions previously taken.

I sit, silent. The only way to survive someone like this is to become a passive non-player.

“Where are your clothes? The ones I took you in?"

“Tyvian took them somewhere."

“Do you have something else to wear? If so, get dressed. I am taking you.”

I go and dress myself as he has ordered. I feel the ache of his cock between my thighs as I cover my body. He has left me the best kind of sore. I find a little smile playing across my lips. He did not do that to punish me. He did that to claim me. He has feelings for me. Strong feelings.

I had only ever been with Mark before this beast. I thought I knew what love was. I thought it was lying back and suffering through it, waiting for the uncomfortable genital rubbing to be over. I did not know that it was possible to be so wet, or to be so consumed with desire.

I don't like the clothing here. It is too loose and shapeless. Tyvian dressed me like a poorly made doll.

“I'm sorry," I apologize. "This is all I have."

“I will get you new clothing in the style you like," he promises me. “Tyvian has no taste.”

With that, he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. We leave the dungeon. There is a large pool of blood at the door, but no corresponding body. I see a few traces of thick red hair lying amid the sanguine puddle. My stomach clenches with unpleasant memories of my kitchen after Tusk was done with it and Mark.

“What did you do to Tyvian? Did you kill him?” Tyvian was nice. He didn't deserve to die. He didn't deserve to be brutally wounded either. I'm surprised they didn’t send a whole platoon in to save me from Tusk. He must be of such high status that they don’t dare stop him.

"Don't worry about the traitor jailer.”

“There seem to be a lot of traitors in your life," I observe as the blood rushes to my head. I should be panicking more, but the strangeness of the entire situation makes it difficult to respond appropriately.

Tusk carries me through the great palace. I wonder if he is taking me to his quarters, if he lives here at all. I have a feeling he would not. After all, this palace is full of traitors and puddles of blood. It is not the sort of place anybody would lay their head if they had a choice.

He takes me to what I can only describe as a library. There are shelves and racks full of what look like documents and books, as well as some tablets and scrolls.

"Where are we?”

“Somewhere the upstarts attempting to run this city into the ground would never look. They have no interest in the old ways, not history or the tactics of those who built this great stronghold. Megaris is unparalleled as a city state with two species living in perfect harmony."

“Humans and korabi have the same status here?"

“I did not say that. Humans are a lower form of life, naturally weaker across physical and mental parameters, and with a strong need for structure. Humans thrive when they are relentlessly dominated. If you do not do it for them, they do it to one another. Your relationship with Mark is a prime example of the drive to follow and submit gone wrong.”

I would like to argue with him, but I am not entirely certain he is wrong. I have been confronting many truths about myself and my world since I began sitting in a dungeon with an incredibly kind jailer who goes out of his way to make me comfortable. That incredibly kind jailer is now missing several pints of blood. I should be more worried about him, but I think there is something broken inside me, something shattered so deeply I don't want to face it.

"Why are you blue now?” I change the subject. I almost didn't recognize him before he ravaged me, he's undergone such a brilliant and bold personal transformation.

“Blue is my natural color. I lost it over the course of time, but I decided to renew it.”