Alien Romance: Interview with an Alien (Football Paranormal Invasion Abduction Alpha Sci-fi Romance) (Fantasy First New Adult Contact Science Fiction Mystery Sports Alien Short Stories) (27 page)

*****

“Slave bitch”. The words echoed, haunting Marla’s mind. Something inside of her knew that she should have been heartbroken. But she wasn’t. She should have felt betrayed, but she didn’t. She wanted to cry out in a furious rage, but she couldn’t. It was as though some soothing force held her anger at bay and all she was left with was a gripping fear.

Mai had cheated. She had lulled her, lulled them all with a promise of what they dearly desired. And then she made her move. Marla hated the scheming witch. She had lost, Mai had won. And now Marla was a slave.

The world around her seemed to be flying away in a blur. She felt a soft but steady wind. The wind was warm – no it was hot. It was hot and dry and it stung. It stung her flesh because it had torn away her clothes, and she felt more naked and more vulnerable than she had ever felt in her life. The wind hurt her eyes and she wanted to shut them but she couldn’t. And so the tears that she couldn’t cry from her soul she cried from the pain of the wind.

And then it stopped.

Marla reeled as the inertia inside of her roiled against her still body. Then all was calm. It was cold. It was night. She saw stars spread across a vast black sky. She felt sand under her feet. A building came into focus. It was a palace. She saw minarets and an onion dome. In the distance she thought that she heard thunder. She tried to look about but her head wouldn’t move. Then she heard voices.

“Princess Mai?”

“Mistress Vanessa.”

“Your royal highness! However, did you – oh never mind. Hug me you little imp.”

“Mistress? What’s all that rumbling noise?”

“We’re in Syria, darling. Just silly people bombing the hell out of each other.”

Marla strained to see, but she couldn’t move her eyes.

“Darling Mai, you are as lovely as the day I first set eyes on you.”

“I remember that day,” Mai said dreamily. “You tried to assassinate me.”

“I was young,” Vanessa said. “And your father was so handsome and charming. How is he?”

“Old, ugly and refuses to die. He’s hiding in Mongolia someplace.”

“He always was a survivor. But I am sure that you didn’t come all this way to find me and reminisce. You have also brought . . .”

“Tributes, Mistress.”

“Oh? Are you looking to curry favor?”

“I am Mistress. There are whispers in the wind. So it was that when these hapless idiots crossed my way and I learned of their, um your connection, well I thought that if I could tie up a few loose ends for you, you might think kindly on this poor princess.”

“I see,” Vanessa said. “And you have enthralled them?”

“I have,” Mai said. “The star man was much easier than I suspected. We might chat about that sometime.”

“And you are giving them to me?”

“Yes.”

“I have always been wary,” Vanessa said, “of Kegon bearing tributes.”

Mai laughed.

“No Buddhist ever gave you tribute, Mistress Vanessa. So let this be a first. Put them to a test if you like”

“I like.”

Marla felt herself moved by no will of her own. She was transported deep into the dungeons of the palace. She heard the echoes of pain, past and present. In her steel-eyed stare she saw shadows of torments as she wended down, around and along dark ways. And when she stopped her heart stopped also. Jason hung before her.

He was manacled at the wrists and ankles and a dull silver collar wrapped his neck. He was hanging naked. His body seemed trapped in transformation. He was covered in that grisly long hair, his chest was heaved, his claws were fierce and his animal muscles bulged. His legs were trapped between a man’s and a wolf’s and the bondage against the half-formed limbs was cruel. But his face was set and fully human. He gleamed with sweat and his canines were long. He was fighting to stay Jason.

“Mistress,” Dana said adjusting the ropes. “The wolf-man still refuses to – oh? What have we here?”

“We have,” Vanessa said “a wayward witch with a tribute; three new slaves to test.”

“And I thought,” Dana said, “that this was going to be just another boring night.”

“That’s gross,” Mai said walking up to the tormented Jason.

“What you see,” Vanessa said, “isn’t half as gross as what it feels.”

And to demonstrate Vanessa took up a riding crop and slammed him on the fur between his legs. Jason half howled and half shrieked, twisting in his bonds.

“It continues to resist my charms,” Vanessa said. “Perhaps Mai, your gifts might help; if your tributes are well and truly enthralled.”

Mai walked into Marla’s view. She clipped a delicate, filigree silver chain to a collar that Marla didn’t know she wore. Without a word Mai handed the chain to Vanessa and in that moment Marla felt the soothing hand on her soul evaporate. She was suddenly filled with rage. The hand on her leash directed that rage and jerked her face to face with Jason. The werewolf’s eyes were filled with hate and Marla’s eyes were filled with heartbreak. Then Marla was yanked away.

“This is just too much,” Mai said, “Just too much. Is there like a bathroom someplace? I need some cold water and to – you know.”

“Save Brittany,” Vanessa sang. “Show our guest to the powder-room.

“Aces,” Mai said. “Brittany, is it? You’re cute.”

“Now,” Marla said when Mai left, “show me something slave.”

Marla felt life in her limbs. She moved and she found a whip in her hand. She snapped her head. She looked about. Laird was lashed to a rack, his hands and ankles bond by wood stocks. Janet stood by like a naked zombie. Jason hung in agony.

“Marla pet,” Vanessa said. “Show me what a good slave Mai has brought me.”

“Yes Mistress,” she said in a voice she didn’t know.

“Lay on.”

“Yes Mistress.”

With a will of its own her arm reared back and lashed. Jason wailed as the thongs laced his chest. Marla’s head burst as she watched her lover’s pain at her hand. Vanessa and Dana laughed in delight. They cuddled, reveling in the mingled pain wafting through the air. Laird was squealing like a girl as Marla lay lash after lash onto her lover.

Jason shrieked and cursed. Marla wanted to wail and weep as she was forced to torture her lover. She wanted to turn and slash that vile woman. She wanted to whip the witch’s tits open. But she had no will of her own and her body acted like Vanessa’s puppet. Jason began to bleed.

“I think,” Vanessa said, “that Mai has brought us something special.”

“I think,” a new voice said. “That Mai is ever so much smarter than you.”

Laird stood free. But it wasn’t Laird. It was Laird as a female. His slender, delicate wrists and ankles easily slipped their bonds. Naked and free she walked to Dana.

“You can’t,” Dana said with a forced laugh. “It’s impossible.”

Laird smiled, touched her forehead, and the Hroth woman groaned, then collapsed into a glimmering golden ball.

“Touché, alien boy,” Vanessa said. “Or girl. Now do you think you have what it takes to go mano-a-mano with me? In my house? Under my magic?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mai said sweeping into the room. “Look what I have.”

Mai held an old, worn corn-broom. It was the sort of thing that every household had in that place between the refrigerator and the cabinets. Hairy dust clung to the twisted bristles. The naked slave standing with Mai held a Benz-o-matic blow-torch and a Bic lighter.

“You scheming little bitch!” Vanessa said.

Vanessa hung bound and gagged in Jason’s place. Jason lay on the elegant bed, Marla and Laird at his side. They tended his wounds with a soothing balm that Brittany had brought. In his half transformed state the werewolf trembled, but his eyes were clear and forgiving. Marla’s eyes welled with tears. She kissed him softly.

Suddenly squeals of joy filled the dungeon. Janet and Rachael wept and laughed as they hugged and kissed. Other slave-girls looked about in some disbelief, rubbing their wrists where their manacles had been.

“I’m sorry I had to deceive you,” Mai said. “But it was vital that Vanessa smell your fear. If she had any hint of suspicion we’d have all been grease spots. Funny though; in the end it was her own sadistic lust that brought her down. They were so intent on torture that they just missed a few things. Stupid bitches.”

“I don’t care,” Janet said sobbing in joy. “I just – thank you.”

“So,” Brittany said timidly, “what’s going to happen to those two?”

“Well,” Mai said. “Dana is going to stand trial at The Haig. I’m sure that Laird will see to that.”

“I will insist,” she said.

“And as for witchy-poo,” Mai said strolling to the struggling woman. “We’ll think of something.”

“Can we go home now?” Janet asked.

“All in good time,” Mai said. “Wolf-man has to heal. In the meanwhile, this is such a lovely palace. Let’s do some exploring. You can thank me properly in prettier surroundings.”

Marla gazed down at Jason, stroking his slowly receding hair.

“It’s alright baby,” she cooed. “Everything’s alright now. “We’ll all go home soon, and then everything will be like it always was.  Just the three of us.”

“Um,” Laird said.

“Oh, right.”

THE END

Another bonus story is on the next page.

Bonus Story 8 of 24

Charmaine stepped off the treadmill and wiped the sweat from her brow. It had been a long time since she'd worked out so hard. Her muscles ached, but it was a good ache. She'd pushed herself past her limits. She looked at her luscious brown skin, covered in a layer of sweat, and smiled. She had the hips, thighs, and full breasts that easily turned men’s heads.

Even in an upscale gym like Equinox, she got plenty of attention from the male members. She'd even caught a few of the female members checking her out on occasion. All that attention gave her a full body thrill. It's what kept her coming back to the gym.

Maybe that wasn't quite true. Maybe she worked out because she enjoyed working up a sweat and feeling like she was alive when her adrenaline was pumping.

A blond hunk walked in front of the treadmills and towards the locker rooms. Charmaine kept her eyes fixed on him.

Charmaine had never been with a white man before. Of course, like most of her African-American girlfriends, she had entertained the idea. No, she'd done much more than entertain the idea, she thought to herself with a smile. Many a night she'd stroked her pussy, moving her fingers in and out while imagining a handsome blue-eyed, blond-haired Viking pounding away at her pussy, making her submit to his will, while juices leaked out of her and down her thick mahogany thighs.

She could feel herself getting wet just thinking about it. She kept her eyes locked on the blonde hunk as he sauntered into the men's locker room, head held up high, eyes looking straight ahead. She loved that intensity, that masculine fire that seemed to burn within him. That was the kind of man she needed. That's what was missing in her life.

She wasn't going to leave the gym until he came out of the locker room until she had a chance to talk to him. If she went home without saying anything to him, there's no way that she would've been able to get him out of her mind. He would've haunted her every thought, her dreams, fantasies, and nightmares. His beautiful blond hair and piercing blue eyes would be there staring at her, challenging, beckoning her.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" He asked cocking his head to the side, smirking at her arrogantly. As if he knew that her pussy was dripping wet for him, that her mouth was hungry to take his big hard, cock.

Was she free that night? For him, she would be free anytime. But there was no need to tell him that, she’d learned that it was always good to keep men a little bit in the dark and anxious about what she was actually thinking.

"Maybe,” she said. "Where do you plan on taking me?

"I know a few places," he said. He reached down and adjusted his crotch.

Transfixed, Charmaine stared down at the big bulge. It looked huge, hard and long. She'd never seen or held or kissed or slurped a white man's cock before. It was such a hot, taboo fantasy of hers. But up until this point, that's all it had been: a fantasy.

Charmaine hopped in her black BMW and zoomed out of the parking lot. During the drive home, her whole body vibrated with pleasure. She couldn't wait tomorrow night's date. She knew that it's all she would be able to think about. There was no way that she would be able to get much work done in the office tomorrow. She wouldn’t be able to get that gorgeous face out of her mind no matter how hard she tried.

When she got home to the privacy of her bedroom, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to have an incredible orgasm, an absolutely incredible orgasm that would push her over the edge with pleasure and drive her wild with desire for Brian.

As Charmaine's body rose on the bed, across town Brian stripped out of his pants and tight spandex. His big cock flopped between his muscular legs. While the shower water ran, he stood in front of the mirror flexing, smiling, impressed as always with his beautifully sculpted physique. This was the body that had made him such a competitive and feared professional football player. It was also the body that still hadn't quite recovered from a serious knee injury two years ago, the injury that had finally ended his career, well before he reached his potential.

Having to retire before the age of 30 was something that he would've thought unimaginable. He'd played football since he was a young boy, tossing the ball around with his father at whatever military base he happened to be stationed at that month. Football ran in his blood. And when everything had ended, when he could no longer put on the cleats and pads and helmet and run out of the tunnel like a madman going to war, his life seemed empty and without meaning.

Since his forced early retirement, he'd struggled to find direction in his life. Everything was so much easier when he was a football player. Every day he had a routine, a schedule that would keep him focused and on track. Whenever his mind began to wander or he got distracted, there was always a coach or teammate or an agent to shake him back into gear. He'd heard from plenty of guys that post-football life would be tough. He’d expected that and he'd deal with it. He just hoped that things would get a little easier as time went by.

After Brian showered and dressed, he sat down on the couch with a beer and flicked on the TV. His cock was throbbing in his pants. Like his professional playing days, his playboy bachelor days were also finished, or at least, they seemed to be winding down to an end. But maybe all he needed to do was play the field a bit more, a few more conquests, a threesome with a famous actress and model. It had been a couple months since he'd really felt his mojo flowing back into his body, giving him a renewed sense of hope, a new sense of purpose.

That thick mahogany beauty from the gym had his cock rock hard from the first time he'd laid eyes on her. He'd always had an appreciation for African-American women, but as yet, he never had the chance to date one. Or maybe that wasn't true, maybe he had passed up the chance before, not knowing whether or not they would accept a white man. He thought that those sorts of taboos would've been done away with by now.

Both his mother and father were in the military, so he had to travel a lot in his childhood. He'd grown up around all different types of children: white, black, and everything in between. He'd learned to look beyond the surfaces of things, but more importantly of people.

Someone rang the buzzer to his condo. Brian turned down the volume on the TV, took a long sip from his beer, and listened to the buzzer. He hadn't been expecting anyone and he really didn't like it when people came over unannounced. He'd had to tell more than a couple of his friends, especially the drunken wild, ones not to do that. They all promised to respect his wishes and it had been a long while since anyone of them had broken their word. Who could it be? He wondered. He drained the last of the beer, got off the couch, and walked towards the intercom.

"Hello," he said. "Who is this?"

"Hey, baby. It's me, Michelle."

Brian closed his eyes. “Fuck!” He said, leaning his back up against the door.

Michelle was one of his clients at the gym. She paid top dollar and he provided her with top-notch service. He could tell from the way that she looked at him, that she was trouble. She pinched his butt cheeks every now and then, and licked her lips as she looked up and down his body, pausing and evaluating the bulge in his spandex shorts with a particular interest. She wanted something more than the relationship that they presently had.

While he found her attractive, Brian had been able to keep his dick in his pants so far. But he didn't know how much longer he was going be able to hold out.

Michelle walked into Brian's apartment like she owned the place.

"Not bad," she said. "Not bad at all. I see that you've spent some of your money wisely.

There was no question that Brian took pride in his luxury apartment but he knew that this woman, who was probably 7 or 8 years older than him, most likely had not come over to talk about interior design. She was wearing a tight white top, which beautifully showed off her abundant cleavage and blue cutoff shorts that barely covered her sun-kissed thighs. Brian didn't know what was wrong with him but he could feel his cock rising, palpitating, filling with blood. This isn’t what he wanted. No, not at all.

"Michelle, I'm sorry," Brian said. "I really have someplace to be."

Michelle smiled, full of lust and confidence. She wasn't going to turn around and walk out of the apartment that quickly. He was going to have to be a lot stronger in his rejection if he was ever going to send the right message. She walked towards him, eyes fixed on him the whole time, and put her hand on his hard muscular chest.

"I saw you talking to that black woman today at the gym," Michelle said as she pressed her knee into Brian's crotch, ever so gently, smiling as she felt him growing harder and longer and stronger.

A lusty smile danced on her lips. This is what she'd been waiting for, planning for, angling for just the right moment to make her move. And here it was. There was no way that Brian would risk losing her as a client. She would find a way to make him submit to her. Even if he didn't find her as attractive as some of the younger women at the gym, she was determined to have her way with him. She would lick, suck, and fuck the hell out of every pore of his rock hard body. Out of all the hot men at the gym—and at Equinox, hot men seemed to be a dime a dozen—he still managed to stand out. Once they started hooking up regularly, she would be sure to get plenty of pictures of them together—in bed cuddling, kissing, lovemaking. She planned on keeping those pictures in a safe place.

Brian furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes. His face darkened. Who the hell was this woman? Why did she think she could show up to his apartment unannounced and uninvited? He was neither her boyfriend nor her lover, not in the past nor the present. He desperately wanted to be a nice guy, and a respectful gentleman, but he realized that Michelle wasn't the type of woman who would respond to a subtle rejection or slight brush-off.

No, that would definitely not be enough for her. Once she fixed her mind on something, she went after it with the energy and persistence of a pit bull. He'd seen her do that plenty of times in the gym. Her thin frame, light brown hair, and green eyes belied her wild, stubborn spirit.

Brian put both his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. He tried to look as compassionate as possible.

"I'm sorry, Michelle," he said. "I really am. But I don't think that—"

Michelle pressed a finger to his lips.

"Don't say a word, baby," she said. "I think I know just what you need."

She let her hand slide down his chest, reached under his untucked button-down shirt and rubbed his hard abs, licking her lips, gazing into his eyes, and beginning to get wet. She placed her hand on top of the hard bulge in his pants and squeezed.

Brian closed his eyes and moaned. He knew that he was in trouble now. He knew that you would regret this whether it was the next day, the next week, or maybe right after he orgasmed. He would definitely regret it.

Michelle got down on her knees and began tearing at Brian's belt buckle.

"Fuck," Brian said as he felt her warm hand reaching into his boxers and pulling out his stiff member.

*****

When Michelle finally left Brian's apartment several hours later, he lay on the bed, sweaty, panting, and completely exhausted. It had been a long time since he'd gotten such a good workout in the bedroom. She was a hot-blooded cougar who knew how to get what she wanted.

Brian stared up at the ceiling. He couldn't help wondering about the trouble that he just got himself into. This wasn't the kind of woman who was just going to back off, wait for him to call, and make the next move. There was little chance of that. That lusty bitch, no matter how much she had to do, how much effort she had to put in, she would be sure to stay on his tail. She'd already been divorced twice, according to the sob story that she told Brian one day at the gym.

Once again his high sex drive had landed him in trouble.

It was crazy. He certainly wasn't looking forward to going to the gym tomorrow. Michelle would definitely be there, wearing her spandex pants and push-up sports bra, batting her lashes, eying him possessively. It would be obvious to everyone in the gym—especially the trainers and the guys and gals who were there every day—that she'd finally gotten her hands on his big, long cock. And now he would have to live with the consequences.

It's just a woman, he tried to tell himself. I should be able to handle this. It wasn't the first time that he'd found himself in such a tricky situation. Yet something told him that getting out of this jam was going to be a little bit harder than usual. Then a thought crossed his mind that made him smile. Suddenly, he felt a rejuvenating energy surging through his body.

He remembered that the next night was his date with the curvy, sophisticated, African-American woman at his gym. He began imagining what a sexual encounter with her would be like. But it was hard for him to imagine just what it would be like with Charmaine, yeah that was her name, Charmaine.

He smiled and licked his lips. There was something so sultry, so poetic about that name. He looked forward to learning about her, her family, where she was from, where she was going.

For the last several months, he'd had his eye on her in the gym, watching the subtle sway of her hips, watching her arms pumping up and down, the sweat dripping from her forehand to her neck, down to her breasts as she ran on the treadmill. He'd wanted to become her private trainer, so they would get the chance to work together one-on-one. But every time he tried to approach her he'd hesitated. He'd never made a move on an African-American woman before and he wasn't quite sure how to approach them. He wasn't sure whether they were into white guys, or whether he was the right type of white guy.