The name day blade glinted as he flicked it against her earlobe—precise, clinical—a warrior’s move. A single crimson drop welled up, and his second mouth flooded with enzyme-rich saliva. Her genetic code would reveal everything: age, breeding compatibility, hidden Sarrian markers.
This distanced them. Kept it clean and cold. Unlike his hands that ached to clasp her throat, unlike his cock that lurched behind its seam, straining toward her.
She saw the flash of his blade and yelled, but he knew she felt no pain. Dark new blood immediately welled there. The mark was tiny, but her fear, that rapid heartbeat, helped it bleed faster. This was his favorite part.
Her instinct was to fight more, but he didn’t want any of her precious blood to be lost, so he moved his hand to protect her skin and applied enough pressure for her to know he wasn’t joking. It would be an easy thing to break her ribcage without exerting any effort.
With denser bones, he weighed much more than she did. “That is a very pretty color.”
Bastian didn’t think she heard him over her whimpering. He had to spank her five more times on the thigh where the rope didn’t block his hand—what a delight—before he tried to hold a conversation with her again.
Cutting her clothing off from beneath the ropes had loosened the remaining bindings around her chest area; only a few scraps from her many layers still covered her human tits. With her every movement, soft, fleshy breasts jiggled, pulling his attention away from other parts of her.
He was going to play with those.
“Please. Please, I don’t know what you want,” all she could do was beg him.
She did it so prettily, with full lips, bright cheeks, and tear-glassy eyes. He didn’t mind her flat back teeth when her front canines had fine porcelain points.
“This is such a small thing, really. If you listen to me and do what I say, this might end well for you.”
It wouldn’t end well, he lied. But was it a lie if it was spoken to a defeated, invaded race?
Breathing through her mouth, she panted, trying to calm herself. Her eyes closed, shutting him out again to calm herself. He was getting very tired of her doing that.
He allowed it this time, drinking in the sight and smells set out on the table before him, cataloging the unique points of interest on the naked woman. The ropes were a bit in the way, but he enjoyed the way her limbs contorted to fit them, feminine shape outlined by the bindings.
With her facing him, he switched his hold, pulling out the last straps of cloth from her arm, her shoulder, and getting closer to her intriguing human chest. Poor thing looked uncomfortable, pink with distress but seductively attractive. Shoulders pulled back from her tied arms, her breasts thrust out, stiffened nipples tempted his hands to squeeze and pinch.
Tightly bound at the ankle, knee, and twisted to the side, her closed legs concealed the front facing furred V of her sex. But he could see the engorged, puffy lips perfectly well from behind. After hours of media visuals, Bastian knew that his cock, as the primary mating organ, went right into the major hole where he would deliver his sperm and connect with her special little alien enhanced egg.
She lacked the correct suckers to receive his sperm. He would have to go inside her undeveloped body because she could not meet him halfway. He’d seen the old videos. He would do the work. Thrusting. Pumping, sinking his cock inside the moist cavity of her cunt.
That data cluttered his mind, input like everything in preparation for this planet. He’d never planned to use it, but meeting this little kitten in person changed those ideas. He was corrupted by her. In a way that infected his brain, spoke to his cock, and rearranged his goals. He couldn’t lift his hands from the texture of her skin. Her shape. The glisten of her tears on her cheek.
Her female pocket would squeeze his cock like a fist, and he knew from experimenting that he liked that. The moisture might benice.
“Have you noticed that human blood inebriates the red hats? They must have got into the rebel’s blood before dragging you back here because all of them were sotted off their asses. Did they taste yours?”
There were bruises and scrapes on her body, but the only deliberate cut was the place on her ear.
“I don’t know. Did they? Did they? What does that mean?”
“Mean? There is no deep meaning behind hunger and depravity, is there? Since your blood would make them idiots, what do you think it might do to me?” he asked.
“Nothing! Don’t touch me. I don’t want my blood to do anything!” She screeched at the idea.
Bastian felt a very superior sort of laugh rumble through his chest. Had she forgotten that she was tied up on a table and that he had cut off most of her clothing? Her only weapon, her only mode of resistance, was her mouth. She couldn’t stop him from doing anything he wanted. “Do you know what female human blood does to my kind?”
“What? Your kind? I’ve never seen your kind before today. Why are you talking about blood? Are you finally going to kill me?”
“I imagine your blood tastes delicious.”
“Taste?”
He squeezed her arm. “Stop that. No screaming. I’m not going to kill you. I think it will be more fun to taste you. Blood is also a drug for my kind. But it will calm me. You want me calm now, don’t you?”
He lied again. Easily. It would not calm him.