I am caught up in his desire. I am one with him. He has turned me from an advanced, civilized space farer into a gasping animal, taking cock like I’d die without it. The heady oxygen of this planet is being gasped into my lungs with every moan. My entire body is lit with his energy.
Sex, I thought, was nothing but skin rubbing against skin, meaningless friction. I imagined it to be a mechanistic act driven by simple animal instinct. But it is more than that. It is an all-consuming experience. It is spiritual. It touches every part of me. The roots of my hair tingle. My toes curl. My body produces an ample lubrication that slicks his great invading rod and allows it to plunge inside me, turning what should be agony into ecstasy.
All too soon, I am spiraling into an oblivion of pure sensation. It feels so good I can’t think anymore. My objections, my concerns, they’re all gone. I am screaming my pleasure to this new world, becoming part of it by abandoning myself to the sensations this beast of a once-man is forcing through me.
It carries me away from my cares. It removes me from my memories. In his arms, I am nothing but female flesh. I am everything I was ever made to be, and nothing I have been told I was.
As the post-coital haze fades, I feel an ache between my thighs, a throbbing in my ass. I feel his cock pulling away from me, leaving me with the emptiness I never knew I carried with me every moment of every day. When that big head slides free of me, a gush of hot seed follows, running over the now swollen, tender lips of my once virginal pussy.
His semen is inside me. I know what that means. He has not only fucked me, he has mated me. The ultimate crime has just been committed. My being on this planet pales in comparison to what he just did, filling me with virile seed.
He stands. I fall, slumping against the grass. My body is bare to this strange world, my sex is exposed, dripping foreign seed. I do not get up, because I do not know how to anymore. I no longer know which way is up, and which way is down. I no longer know what I am, much less who I am.
His big hand reaches down, wraps around my wrist and pulls me up, limp as a rag doll. One arm slips around my back, the other hand goes to my jaw, turns my head up to him. Those rich blue eyes rake over my face. I cannot tell what his emotions are. I don’t even know what mine are.
It is all I can do to keep breathing as he inspects me, holding me there in his arms, making me feel small and helpless and yet somehow safe—though that makes no sense at all. He has just finished ravaging me. My sex still drips with his seed.
His mouth moves toward mine. I don’t know what his intention is, but the fingers on my chin ensure I can’t move away. His mouth descends on mine, his touch surprising me with its tenderness. His lips brush against mine and then press more firmly, urging mine to part. They do, and his tongue enters, caressing mine. I do not know what this is, but it feels intimate, almost more intimate than his plunging cock did when it tore inside me and took my innocence away.
My breath slows. My body relaxes. I sink against his big frame as he once more takes me to a place I did not know I was capable of reaching. What is this soft surrender? This calm that sinks through every part of me?
“Mine,” he rumbles, speaking another one of those words that shocks and surprises me.
His?
He has changed me; that much I know. I am no longer the innocent virgin who landed on this planet, drawn by a burning curiosity that set my craft ablaze. I am something else. I am a renegade, a criminal in my civilization’s eyes. I try to push that thought away. The last person I want to think about right now is the Patron. I have disappointed him greatly. If he ever discovers what happened here, I know I will be disowned. I will be put into cold stasis from which I may never awake. It will be the end of me.
The thought will not be repelled. I try to sink back into this beast man’s eyes. I try to feel his arms as I did a moment ago, but the memory of who I really am has returned and with it, the fear.
“I have to go.”
I try to gently disengage from him. When that does not work, I push away more forcefully. His grip tightens just a fraction and the panic starts to rise. I can’t stay down here. I have to get away from him. I have to call my ship down. I have to get off this planet, and I have to wash all traces of this encounter off my skin. I’m going to have to explain what happened to the shuttle, but I can say there was a fault and it detached. It will take months to edit the computer’s logs to reflect the lie, but I’ll have nothing but time once I get back up into orbit.