Her Brutal Alien (Alien Overlords)

The monster gives me the benefit of the couch. The upholstery allows me to hide my face and pretend I am not as active a participant in my own ravaging as I know myself to be. My body is the least of the rewards due to this monster for the service he has done me.

I arch my hips and I give myself to him. I offer every bit of my body, not just my pussy, but my ass and my breasts, my mouth if he wants it. I can feel him sliding deep inside me again and again, filling me so much deeper than Mark ever could have.

The monster growls its lust. I feel its claws flexing against my hips as it grips me and sates itself. I don’t know why I keep thinking of him as an it, is there any more proof of his masculinity than his carnal conquest? He’s not content to kill the man of the house. He has to ravage me too. No matter how alien he is, he seems to understand the most brutal rules of human engagement, ordered over many millions of years.

My body thrills to his mastery. He is a stranger, and I should be horrified by what should be a vicious and terrible intrusion. But I am an equal participant in this ritual—for that is what it is. A hard cock plunges inside me, and I welcome it. My clit is singing with intense sensation which emanates through every part of me. Sex usually feels like something that happens to my vagina. This rough claiming is happening to Every. Single. Part. Of. Me.

Climaxes are rushing through me, orgasms that make my pussy ripple around his rough rod. I feel and hear him respond with roars of need.

“What are you doing, human female!” He shouts the question as whatever resolve he must have had to not lose control crumbles away. There is a chemical reaction taking place between us. Bonding is happening. We can both feel it, a rush of mental chemicals being seeded in our minds with equal intensity to the pleasure our bodies are giving and taking.

When I am utterly spent, he picks me up in his arms and carries me out of the house. There is a large, heavy thing parked on the lawn. I say parked, because it is clearly a vehicle, I say thing because it is not a vehicle like any I have seen before. It is a round half-dome with a saucer type skirt on it. It shines with a sort of ceramic white, like it has been plated or perhaps enameled. It takes up almost the entire lawn, its three supportive legs one in each flower bed. My peonies will be ruined.

"You are about to come to a very harsh justice,” the monster growls. “Do not think there will be further orgasms in your future. I can assure you that what is to befall you will be very well deserved.”

I take one last look around myself at what used to be familiar surroundings. The street is empty. Night has fallen and there is a chill in the air. All the houses around us are lit brightly. Some families have left their curtains open. I can see almost half a dozen from the darkness of our lawn. They are all eating dinner. Some of them are smiling and happy. Others are quiet and contained. None of them appear to be in any way aware that we are being visited by aliens.

There is a very deep numbness settling into my being. It is physical as well as mental. My mind is overloaded with all I have seen. The trauma, the fear, and the orgasmic relief are all serving to make me feel… nothing.

“I will sedate you now,” Tusk warns me. “I believe you are an interstellar assassin, but on the very remote off-chance you are not, you will need some assistance to handle the travel. It is not easy for a human to handle the forces involved. Some of them have been known to go mad."

Two

Margaret

I return to consciousness to find myself being dragged into the strangest, grandest, most wonderful and terrifying royal court I have ever seen. Begging for my life with every step, I am thoroughly ignored by Tusk who is making an example of me. He has not been as rough at any point in our association as he is now. I can tell that he wants me to be loud, and so I oblige him. I wail and I scream and I beg at the very top of my lungs with the most pitiful pleas for mercy.

Behind the screams, I am watchful. There are humans here. At least one, a woman. She is beautiful and composed, and she sits perched on the throne with the massive purple alien by her side. There are so many colors here, displayed on a variety of alien beasts. I am astounded and astonished as much as I am afraid.