Kitty vs Alien (Feral Aliens) Page 3

  “I like you,” he snarls the words against my ear. “But you’re a brat, and I’m going to spank that out of you. On this planet, you behave. You don’t break the law whenever you feel like it. You don’t give your betters attitude. When you see the magistrate, you act apologetically. You beg for his mercy. To do anything else is to condemn yourself to the most vile of prisons for a time longer than you can comprehend. Got it?”

  He emphasizes the question with a solid slap to my thigh. Bastard.

  “I got it!” I pant. “I’ve got it, I swear.”

  He releases me just enough to let me stand and rub my rear with both hands. It doesn’t help, but I can’t stop doing it. Two spankings in as many days from an alien with a powerful frame is starting to border on the limit of what I can take.

  “You are going to need a lot of lessons in respect, aren’t you, Kitty,” he sighs, almost as if he doesn’t enjoy hurting me.

  I think his tone is a lie. I think he enjoys subduing me with his harsh, slapping strokes. I think he likes bending me to his will. And I think I might like it too.

  4 Crime and Punishment

  Kitty

  The magistrate is a big gray cat-alien man-beast thing. He has long silver whiskers, those eerily human eyes, and a massive furry form which barely fits behind the large desk behind which he sits, raised on a dais which allows him to view me from more or less above. I am forced to crane my neck and head backwards just to try to look at him.

  We are in a courtroom, of sorts. Skoll is with me, making sure I don’t make any attempts at escape.

  “Where is Richardkimble?” The magistrate opens with a question. “Is he hiding inside that average human female?”

  “Wait!” I hold both hands up.

  “What?”

  “Why is the magistrate speaking American English?”

  “What should I speak?”

  “I don’t know, Grimalkin?”

  “Grimalkin isn’t a language. It’s the name of our people. I find your assumptions very offensive.”

  Skoll explains, “He’s not speaking in American English. While you were unconscious, I implanted a conversion chip behind your ear. It allows you to understand our speech and to communicate with us in your tongue.”

  “Them why does he agree he’s speaking American English?”

  “Because to his ears, you said Purrsiltongue.”

  “What?”

  “Hmm?”

  “WHERE IS RICHARDKIMBLE!? IS SHE THE FUGITIVE!?” The magistrate roars the question and I feel my stomach quiver as well as all the other parts of me which are suddenly in danger of being devoured. The magistrate may be old, but he is large and perched above me with his fierce golden gaze, and I have the feeling he could pounce at any moment and deliver the justice of death. I find myself leaning back toward Skoll in the hopes that he might save me.

  “No, your honor,” Skoll says, apparently unconcerned by the magistrate’s rage. “This is the female he took refuge with on Earth. He appears to have lived inside her home for several years, almost the entire time he has been on the run.”

  “Which leads me to ask the question again. Where is Richardkimble? This court has been convened to dispense justice to him, not to this fleshy female.”

  “Unfortunately, Richardkimble escaped shortly after the court was convened.”

  “Escaped?”

  “Yes, your honor. He is disturbingly good at it.”

  I notice Skoll does not admit to having left the door to the cage wide open while he handled me.

  “Actually, he…”

  Skoll claps his hand over my mouth. “You do not speak,” he growls in my ear. “You have no right to address the court, unless the court speaks to you first.”

  I have so many questions. What is going on with this court, and why does it so closely resemble human courts? I would expect to have been brought before twelve massive monsters of flesh and claw just like Skoll. Actually, I’m rather glad I haven’t been. One Skoll is more than enough.

  The room we are in is rather shiny and white. The words easy clean come to mind, quickly followed by kill room. Maybe there is more danger than I’ve been allowing myself to feel. The magistrate sits high above the central floor, which is clear of any other people or even furniture. It’s just a big white circular hole in the ground, and the two of us are standing in the middle of it.

  “The file should be on your panel, your honor,” Skoll says. “My report is there.”

  “Your report. Hm. Let me read. As apparently that is what I will be doing. Reading. Not sentencing the criminal you alleged you were bringing in. Just… reading.”

  “He’s sassy,” I whisper to Skoll.

  The magistrate begins to read, making the occasional grunt, or growl, or on one occasion, an outright gasp. He seems offended by what he is reading.

  “This human, Kitty Wallace, is charged with harboring the fugitive, as well as giving him…” the magistrate checks his documents… “yummy yummy nom nom treats.”

  “I make them myself. They’re tuna and potato fried in…”

  “Criminals do not deserve treats! Certainly not any which might be described as yummy yummy.”

  “You're not going to like this, but on more than one occasion…”

  “Go on,” the magistrate encourages me as I trail off.

  “I… he… can haz cheezburger.”

  “What is she talking about?” The magistrate looks at Skoll.

  “She’s referring to a meme where a feline wishes to consume a cheeseburger, an inappropriate meal for such a creature. Evidently, she gave the fugitive cheezburger.”

  “Memes? She’s quoting memes before the court!?”

  “I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Skoll growls in my ear. “Be quiet.”

  “She must be punished to the full extent of the law,” the magistrate says, beginning to shuffle papers. “Somebody must be punished today. I do not get out of bed without punishing somebody.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “This is not about what is fair, and what is not fair," the magistrate says. “This is about what I do. And what I do, is punish people.”

  “This human accidentally offered shelter. She was unaware that the defendant was anything other than a completely average domestic feline.”

  I’m shocked that Skoll appears to be defending me.

  “Ignorance of the law does not constitute freedom from it. She will face charges along with Richardkimble. Or, in the absence of the fugitive, she will face charges instead of him.”

  Skoll clears his throat. “All due respect, your magistrate, I brought her along as collateral. Proof that I had indeed tracked the fugitive down. I didn’t intend for her to…”

  “Your intentions are not what is at stake here,” the magistrate hisses. “I find her in contempt of court, and I order her to serve a hundred years in the mines.”

  My heart sinks and my eyes widen. A hundred years in the mines is a lot longer than I have to live, and I had plans other than being in mines.

  “Your magistrate, if I may offer an alternative punishment, which may be more appropriate for a human, and may even aid in the recovery of Richardkimble.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You could give her to me as my chain-kept.”

  “What is a chain-kept?” I ask.

  My question is ignored.

  “What would you do with a human as a chain-kept? They can’t hunt. They’re barely worth putting a collar on,” the magistrate grunts.

  “Punish her. And use her to reclaim the fugitive. I believe there is a connection between them, forged on Earth.”

  “Very well," the magistrate says. “Take the human as your chain-kept. But find the fugitive, or you will not only lose your bounty, you will lose her. Just ensure that she does not come into contact with others of our kind. Once they see you have one, they’ll all want one, and the last thing we want is a plague of humans being brought to this place.”

/>   “Agreed, your honor. And thank you. I can assure you, that I will not rest until I deliver the fugitive to you.”

  “See that you do not.”

  The magistrate makes his ruling and then loses interest immediately. I watch as he takes a step away from the podium/lectern thing and very carefully gets into a box which seems far too small for him, curling and turning around until he is sitting or lying, just the tips of his ears visible.

  “What the…” I mouth the question at Skoll, but he’s not in the mood for answering silent questions.

  “What is chain-kept?”

  Skoll ignores the question as he leads me from the chamber, out into the ante-chamber where the wall swims. He continues to ignore the question, preferring to push buttons at the side of the portal.

  “Come here,” he says, summarily drawing me through the walking wall and into a new room. I have yet to see anything resembling an exterior on this planet, and I don’t think I ever will. This room has a very particular smell, musky and masculine. The walls are dark and hung with leather and chains.

  “Oh this… this doesn’t… oh,” I mumble as I look around.

  “On your knees, human.”

  5 Chain-Kept

  Kitty

  He glowers down at me, blue eyes blazing out below dark brows.

  “Knees,” he repeats in that deep, low growl which makes my soul quiver.

  Is there any point in resisting him? Of course there’s not. But I want to. I have committed no crimes and I deserve no punishment, but this is a place of punishment and Skoll is a person of punishment.

  My knees are bending of their own accord beneath his glare. There has been a lot of funny business and a lot of sass up until this point, but there’s no humor left in me as my knees meet the thick furry rug. It is soft, as is the caress of his hand. He runs the hairy back of it over my cheek, letting me feel his pelt and his power.

  “From his moment forth, you are my chain-kept. You will wear my chains. You will be my prisoner, my personal pet. Your body is mine. Your life is mine.”

  I feel a tingle of excitement, arousal, and outrage flash through me, three separate and equally powerful forces igniting my flesh. Skoll is more than powerful enough to control and contain me. I can’t physically fight him, not without a spade, and frankly I think I only got away with that because I caught him by surprise, and he was focused on Mr Tiddles.

  “This is barbaric,” I whisper.

  “Perhaps, but not as much as the alternative would be. You would not survive even a single day in the mines. Humans are not a tough species, and you specifically are not a tough human. You would choke on the gases of the transporters before you even got to the rock face. This way, you live as my chain-kept.”

  “What does that mean, Skoll?”

  “On your planet, you have marriage. It is a custom usually accompanied by the presentation of a ring, which does very little to confine the wearer, but certainly symbolizes confinement. This is a similar custom. It signifies the taking of ownership.”

  “That’s not what marriage is.”

  “It is precisely what marriage was for thousands of years. Your species has recently experienced a fad of what you call equality, but your dark roots remain. You contain the ancestral memories of owned women. That is why you tremble before me now, your eyes wide, your skin marked with those little bumps of excitement. This is what evolution always had in mind for you, Kitty. You were made to be owned. And now you are.”

  With that, he takes a thick golden chain from a case sitting on the table beside him, and he places it around my neck, cool links sliding against my skin.

  “Usually this chain would be much larger. We have used chains suitable for anchoring ocean liners on some of our kept beasts,” he says. “But I do not think you need that kind of binding. You’re more delicate than most.”

  I can feel a slight fizzing sensation against my skin. I don’t know if it is something the chains are doing, or if it is my own reaction to this private ceremony of claiming.

  “You marry beasts?”

  “Some of us do,” Skoll smirks in a way which makes me think that he is making a joke. “But this is not marriage as you imagine it. I say that because it is the closest custom you might understand. That chain around your neck…” He touches it and I feel the links tighten, sort of like metallic shrink wrap, pulling firmly, but not too tightly against my throat. “This marks you as my chain-kept. It gives me sole authority over you. It marks you as my property. None other may touch you.”

  “Skoll…”

  “You should address me as your chain-master.”

  “Am I ever going home?” I’m not calling him chain-master, that’s ridiculous.

  He touches my face in a light caress. “No.”

  “Skoll, please…”

  “You cannot return. It’s best humans don’t know what lies outside their borders. It’s best they continue to believe they are alone, and important in the universe. It is not in anybody’s best interests for humans to realize their relative weakness and unimportance. They might attempt to become important, and that would be a mistake.”

  “You just said how pathetic and weak we are. You have no respect for us, what do you care what we think?”

  “You can be dangerous, Kitty. After all, humanity first rose as a food source for carnivores of my ilk and then went on to conquer the planet.”

  “So, you’re afraid of us. You’re afraid that it doesn’t matter how weak we are, we’ll find a way to conquer you.”

  “You won’t conquer me, Kitty,” he says, his hand running down the center of my chest, between my breasts, all the way down to the apex of my thighs where he grips me, holding my pussy firmly and tightly. “I will conquer you,” he growls. “I will make you whimper for me. I will make you moan for me. I will give you everything you don’t deserve, and everything you do.”

  His finger runs along the seam of my underwear, the same underwear I’ve been wearing since he took me. It’s time it came off.

  He agrees, it would seem, as he drags his fingertip along the seam of my crotch. The fabric splits as if sliced by a sharp blade and I feel the warmth of the pads of his fingers against the most intimate part of me. It has been a very long time since a man touched me this way. I have certainly never been touched there while my neck was held in a chain collar’s embrace.

  I like his touch. It is wrong and perhaps foolish to allow myself to enjoy this, but there’s something about Skoll, that black-blue mane which frames his powerful face, those piercing eyes, and of course, that body made from animal sin.

  In some ways, he is a primitive, feral beast. In others, he is far more advanced than I could ever hope to be. He comes from a world of high technology, a world I am now trapped in. He caresses me and his touch is a comfort, as is the firm touch of the chain collar I must wear, the one which marks his dominion over me.

  “I can smell your arousal, Kitty,” he tells me. “I know that you have been alone for a long time. I know that you have craved male touch, but always rejected the human men around you. They were too weak for you. They did not possess the animal domination you require to be fulfilled. Their clumsy advances via text and screen left you cold, didn’t they. Because you needed to be touched.”

  He squeezes my pussy lightly and I let out a soft, gasping moan. I do need this. I haven’t gotten laid in I no longer know how long. I couldn’t give myself to any of the perpetually boring men I knew, but Skoll is anything but boring.

  “Let me show you what I have for you, Kitty,” he says, his eyes hooded with desire. His hand leaves my sex, and I feel a moment of loss, but I am quickly distracted when he opens his pants and reveals a mighty thick rod, hairless and flesh toned, but ridged. It extends from a furred sheath at the base of his abdomen, and it is every bit as thick and long as a human’s cock would be, except moreso.

  His cock is…

  “Oh…”

  Before I can finish whatever comment of surprise I
was going to make, he pushes it inside my mouth, lets me taste his flesh. It is thick and hard, and it slides over my tongue with a possessive thrust, dripping little hints of his essence along the way. He tastes like the wild. Rich and earthy and intensely sexual.

  “This will spread your cunt,” he tells me, his hand curled in my hair, tipping my head back so he can look into my eyes as he pushes deep and holds himself there, inoculating me with those little drops of pre-seed. “You will take it deep inside that wet little hole, and you will cry out your pleasure for me, Kitty. You will take this cock as often as I see fit, every time your wetness calls for it, you will be filled.”

  His words are crude and domineering, but I don’t care. He’s not talking to me the way a human man would, but he is not a human man. He is a massive, primal, feral, fucking alien, and that is more evident than ever now he has his thick cock in my mouth.

  This, more than anything he has done since he captured me, shows me my place in his world. I can feel my body responding, lubricating in anticipation, a sexual salivation which makes my hips squirm. We both know his cock is in the wrong end of me. We both know I need him to drive it deep inside my cunt, claim me properly, and let me lose myself in the pleasure he is promising me.

  He pulls his cock out of my mouth and pushes me gently back, kneeling down between my thighs. He’s going to do me on the floor. There will be no beds, no human customs or comforts. He’s going to take me right here.

  “Spread your legs,” he says.

  I obey, parting my thighs for him.

  “Wider.”

  I open them more, feeling ever so exposed.

  “Wider,” he insists.

  “I don’t go much wider…”

  He puts his hands on my thighs and pushes them up and back, spreading me lewdly and wantonly wide, giving me nowhere to hide my shameful little holes. I feel a rushing heat consuming my body as he stares down at my sex and my ass, both vulnerable to him and his powerful cock.

  I quiver when I feel the head of him touch my pussy, his heat making my sex react. There has been very little foreplay, but I am soaked. It is the intensity of the moment, the fact that I am being taken and owned, becoming his chain-kept. The chain itself feels like a hand lightly squeezing around my throat, intensifying all the already intense sensations sweeping through my body.