The Alien's Captive (4 page)

The alien doctor was staring down between her spread legs. “She’s not been groomed.”

“She was a last minute intake,” Bron explained. “They didn’t process her completely before she was put in the queue. I believe Senator Rue expected her to be bound for the breeding camps along with the other Earth pets who weren’t chosen today.”

“You can always be counted on to make your own choices, Augustus.” GilAman’s thin lips curled into a smile. “Although news that you took a pet at all surprised me.”

“I was told it would aid me politically.” Bron was looking down at Phaedra. “But it may be a moot point.” He glanced back up at the physician. “Can she fit me?”

“There’s only one way to know, but first she must be groomed.”

GilAman picked up what looked like a wand. It began to glow in his hand as he moved it close to Phaedra’s pubic mound. She was able to raise her head just enough to see the tip of the wand touching her hair, and felt the sensation of a gentle tug on the soft curls covering her labia. But as she watched, the hair was pulled painlessly away, leaving her outer lips pink and smooth. The wand continued downward as the table spread her legs wider. She could feel the underside receding, leaving her stretched yet supported. The wand denuded every bit of hair from her nether regions. But GilAman didn’t stop there. He walked around her entire body and soon she was hairless except for her tresses.

“And now we can examine her.” The alien physician reached for another wand, this one about nine inches long and cigar-shaped. Phaedra reflexively sought to close her legs, but the table prevented that. She squeezed her eyes tight and clenched her pelvic muscles as she felt the tip of the probe pressing against her spread pussy, but that was just as ineffective. The probe slid in, and the holographic data panel appeared in the air as it did.

“She’s tight.” Phaedra opened her eyes just in time to see GilAman’s gaze meet Bron’s over her body.

“Too tight?” The general’s voice was concerned.

“To fully determine her capacity, we’ll need to arouse her.” The alien physician was staring up at the screen. “It seems she’s already been aroused. Did you touch her?”

“I punished her,” Bron said. “She was soundly spanked.”

“She responded.”

Phaedra felt her face flush.

“Your fancy screen is wrong,” she said, trying to squirm as her face reddened. “I don’t know how things work here, but on Earth women don’t get off on being beaten.”

Her captors ignored her.

“She needs further arousal before continuing the exam,” the doctor said. “I have a supplement…”

“No.” Bron stepped forward. “I’ll provide the stimulant.”

The physician nodded. “The settings of the table will allow for movement.”

Phaedra’s eyes widened as the general’s large hand dropped to her stomach. He was looking down at her, and it occurred to her that if they were on Earth, he’d be the kind of man who graced magazine covers—tall, broad, square-jawed with a neatly trimmed beard and piercing eyes. But he was touching her without permission, which was something she was not supposed to abide or enjoy. And a new fear filled her now as his large hand slipped lower, and his large index finger slipped between the now denuded lips of her pussy.

As the tip of that finger moved to and settled on her clitoris, she bucked wildly, and the table’s hold relaxed as the doctor said it would. Phaedra’s fear increased, but to her horror, so did her excitement. Her clit was throbbing just from this man’s touch, and her arousal only grew as the wand inside her began to pulse and expand. The screen beside the table began to flash with odd symbols that GilAman stared at intently.

“She’s highly responsive for such a little thing,” the alien physician observed. “And her capacity is impressive. She’s taking more girth than I thought possible, and she’s close to apex.”

Apex. It occurred to Phaedra that he was referring to an orgasm—an orgasm forced under the hand of a man who considered her little more than a pet for his pleasure, his possession.

“No!” She cried the word, gritting her teeth, and was chilled when Bron’s response was a deep chuckle.

“You cannot win this battle, little Phaedra.” The finger on her clit moved in long slow circles; the wand expanding in her pussy was moving in and out now. She could tell by the way it glided in and out of her slit that she was beyond wet. She clenched her fists, but still the tension in her core built and built. As she felt the throbbing begin, she thrashed her head back and forth, repeating one word:
No! no! no!

But her body, so masterfully played by these two aliens, betrayed her, and Phaedra’s last ‘no’ ended in a scream of raw pleasure as her hips rose from the table and thrust forward onto the impossibly large phallus. She could hardly breathe as waves of pleasure rippled through her. Phaedra had never had an orgasm even close to the one that now left her limp.

She could feel her body relax into the table’s surface, which melded back into her still-tender bottom and legs. The wand was withdrawn from between her legs and the man who’d bought her to orgasm was now sucking her essence off the finger he’d used to do the job.

Phaedra looked away, afraid of his carnal boldness and shattered by her own.

“There’s no shame in it,” he said quietly, and she felt his other hand drop to her shoulder.

“She’ll be able to take you, Bron, but you’ll still have to be gentle, especially at first.” The doctor quirked a silver brow. “I believe with her level of response she’ll be a snug but good fit.”

Phaedra flushed. A snug but good fit. They were talking about her like she was a slave. But wasn’t she?
A moment at a time
, she thought.
Just take it a moment at a time until you can escape. At least this part is over.

But it was not over. The skin of the table was moving… moving up and over as the table rotated. Suddenly she was face down, the portion of the table under her pelvis slowly elevating as the portion behind her knees was bent and spread. She was now restrained face down, her bare, red bottom hiked obscenely high. She could feel the cool air of the room against her exposed bottom hole.

“What are you doing?” She’d begun to cry in spite of herself. “Whatever you think of me, whether you think I’m something to be used or even less than that, I have a right to know…”

“Phaedra.”

He was beside her and she craned her neck to look up at Bron.

“You have no rights here,” he said. “But from mercy I will tell you what to expect. Your bottom must be cleansed. Every part of you is to be used. Every part of you will be prepared.”

She could not see behind her, but could only feel something slide into her bottom. It went deep, and the next sensation was that of fluid warmth filling her bowels. She moaned from the fullness and the cramping that started almost immediately. Panic resurfaced. Would she spill the contents here in this strange room? Soil herself? Hot tears of helpless humiliation coursed down her face. She did not rail now, but simply lay there in a state of abject helplessness. Then she felt the table pivot her to sitting. The tube remained in her, but there was an inward pressure now and she realized the contents of her insides were being flushed and vacuumed into a compartment underneath the floor. The tube was removed and the table returned to reclining, its position morphing into one that had her lying on her back. A light covering was laid across her body. It felt like a warm breeze settling over her, and Phaedra immediately felt herself overcome by a deep feeling of relaxation.

“She needs to rest, general.” GilAman was again looking at the screen. “The readings show a deep sleep deficit.” He paused. “Have you made an appointment with Sharad?”

“No,” he said. “Do you think it’s necessary?”

Phaedra struggled to stay awake as she listened to the conversation.

“I know you frown on the adornment, but she could use it. The assemblies will be happening soon. You’ll want her at her best when she appears by your side. All eyes will be watching, and comparing her to Senator Primus’ pet. You know this.”

Bron sighed and nodded. “Very well. Call me when she’s rested.”

There was more talk then. Phaedra heard the word ‘modification.’ But the heaviness of the warm, light covering seemed to be sinking into her limbs. And then, nothing.

Chapter Five

She’d never felt so rested or relaxed. Given what she’d been through in the indeterminate amount of time since her abduction, it seemed like a miracle. Phaedra sat up slowly, half expecting the surface of the table to still be holding her down. But it wasn’t. She was still naked, the thin sheet above her still warm. She clung to it like a security blanket as she blinked the last of the sleep from her eyes.

“You’re awake.” GilAman’s voice caught her attention and she turned. How had she missed him from where he stood in the corner of the room? Phaedra didn’t ponder it long; so much of what was happening felt surreal.

The beautiful alien walked over, his lavender skin still so unusual she found herself staring at him. He held up what looked like a pen; the holographic wall panel appeared long enough for him to peruse it before it disappeared. The expression on the physician’s face was satisfied.

“You’re in the peak of health,” he said. “Bron could not have picked a better specimen.”

“You speak of me the way we speak of animals back on Earth,” she said.

“You treat them well, I hope.” He put the wand in the pocket of his robe.

“Some are treated well,” she said. “Others are hunted, eaten, neglected…”

“Your society is primitive.” He reached under the table and picked up her shift from a hidden shelf. “You are lucky to be away from it.” He handed her the garment.

“I’m not lucky if I’m nothing more than an animal here,” she said, sliding the shift over her head. She stared at GilAman. “Why are you bringing Earth women to this place? Don’t you have your own?”

“I’m not Traoian,” he said. “I’m simply on loan through Federation agreement. I am Savusian, and on our planet the females were rendered infertile hundreds of years ago after a meteor strike released toxins into the atmosphere that resulted in no live births. To avoid extinction, we set out to find suitable surrogates. We found them on your planet and began abducting them. But the Traoians were drawn to the novelty and beauty of the humans we captured. They saw in your kind a pleasure commodity. However, Trao is a very wealthy planet ruled by a powerful caste system. Where we were looking for breeders, they were looking for physical beauty. Show pieces, if you will. And they consider themselves too civilized to randomly harvest humans as we do on Savusia.” GilAman offered an ironic smile. “The leaders here decided to ‘buy’ their Earth females, trading remedial technology to your uncivilized Earth leaders in exchange for pre-screened females. Earth scouts, such as the human you spoke to earlier, find the women and then arrange for them to be in a certain place at a certain time for acquisition. It seems you had some sort of knowledge of this, which is how you ended up here.”

He helped her from the table, and Phaedra looked up at him as he continued. “There’s keen competition to have the most beautiful female, especially among the political caste here. Not all the women who arrive are selected; the ones who don’t end up in the Savusia’s breeding colony, where their physical attractiveness makes them in high demand as surrogates. The exception is among the elite of our planet. Those fortunate few are allowed to keep a human as a mate. The babies we’ve produced are mostly Savusian, but with Earthling genetics that have proved surprisingly hardy in our climate, which is closer to your planet than that of Trao X39. Had you not been picked, you’d already be on a transport. But it seems General Bron wanted you.” He paused. “He’s a powerful man. You should feel honored.”

“I don’t,” she said sadly. “I feel scared. I want to go home.” Phaedra took his hand impulsively. It was cool. “Please. Can’t you just send me back?”

The impassive face took on a harsh expression that unnerved Phaedra. GilAman looked like an angry angel lacking a fiery sword.

“Do not ask me that,” he said. “I’m here as much at the pleasure of the Traoians as you.” He softened. “You are strong, little human, stronger than you realize. I believe that is why Bron wanted you. And you will do what you must to adapt. If I’ve learned one thing in studying Earth women it’s that you’re amazingly resilient.”

Phaedra knew that pressing the issue would be useless, and satisfied herself that she’d at least gotten more information than she’d had before. But she was still curious. “Are you the general’s friend?”

“I saved his life.” A cool hand on her shoulder began to guide her to the door. “For a Savusian, to save a life is to make one a brother. I will withhold my opinions of the Traoians at large, but will tell you that General Bron, while firm, is honorable. I will also tell you that he is the best hope for a corrupt government, and you, little one, will be more important than you realize in the future of this planet and the lives of many innocent inhabitants.”

“What do you mean?”

“Enough.” There was finality in his tone. “Your master has arrived.”

General Bron filled the doorway as it opened. Phaedra felt a strange rush at the sight of him, and felt a tingle on the secret place where he’d touched her. Her face grew warm at the memory of how her hips had followed his hand, so eager, so wanton. She stared down at the floor.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Like a child.” GilAman answered for her.

“Good.” Bron’s voice was deep, and Phaedra did not need to meet his gaze to know his was trained on her. “Sharad is expecting her. Thank you, GilAman.”

The alien physician put his hand to his chest and lowered his head. “Anything for my brother.”

Bron nodded and turned to lead Phaedra away. He said nothing as they walked, but kept two fingers on her shoulder, with just enough tension to remind her how quickly he could snatch her to him should he need to.

“He said he saved you.”

“What?” Bron stopped and now Phaedra did look at him.