Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
We are getting along. I know we shouldn’t be. I am his captive, but hell if he hasn’t taken better care of me than anybody else has in a long time. I know there’s a syndrome where a captive starts to identify with her or his captor, but I presume that is supposed to take longer than a couple of hours. I suspect I am uniquely broken by some very bad treatment that will probably follow me for the rest of my life, one way or another.
“You should rest,” he says. “Stay here and allow your body to continue regenerating. I need to patrol.”
I sit down on my bed, such as it is, being a pile of furs and little more, and I wonder what to make of my situation. I suppose it is something like a cross between a one-night stand and a hostage situation. So far, he has been very generous. He could have fucked me, shoved himself inside me and torn me to erotic shreds without any regard for what would happen. Instead, he has shown self-control and made sure that I came first. I have been in relationships where my orgasms were entirely irrelevant. This alien bounty is outclassing every guy I’ve been with and he’s not even really trying.
4
Lyssa
Manik is practicing with his weaponry. Like almost all unstable personalities, he prefers blades to anything else. I am sure he has all sorts of guns and explosives, but it is the V swords he most seems to like. They’re like normal swords, but there’s two of them mounted to a hilt at around a sixty-degree angle. I can only imagine the horrors that would ensue if one were to be caught in the gap between the two inner blades. And of course, he has two of them, so when he spins with muscular alacrity, he becomes something like a floor mounted ceiling fan of doom. This is not an apt description, I’m afraid, but it is hard to put thought to much of what he has engineered to maim and kill, let alone find words for it. I’m sure that one day I’ll make a full report of this to a journalist or a jury. Either way, someone is going to want specifics.
I can tell myself that I have a reason to be staring at him, rationalizing my thirst away. I’m not lusting after the mean alien. I’m gathering data. I’m not touching myself; I’m making sure his fingers didn’t do any damage. I’m not rubbing myself to another orgasm while hoping that he fucks me next time. I’m not sitting here with an alien fur blanket over my thighs, surreptitiously fingering myself. I’m not on the verge of another orgasm. I’m not going to… fuck… my god… mngghh…
PEW! PEW!
Bolts of electricity are being shot through the atmosphere and at the hideout with precision accuracy. I see Manik come racing in for cover between the flashing bolts.
I am at the point of no return. I can’t stop the climax. I am going to come possibly watching him die, which as fucked-up things go is pretty fucked up, but the heat is flashing through me and the tightness is tightening again and the peak is coming. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkkk…
“What the fuck!?”
Manik curses as he slams the door. I hear the bolt slam into it a moment later. He leans back against it, panting and staring at me. I haven’t moved from the bed, but he clearly blames me for whatever just happened out there.
I pull my fingers out of my aching sex and hope that he’s too freaked out about the near-death experience to notice what I was just doing.
“You.” He growls at me, his gaze locked on me with great fury. “You tried to kill me.”
Before I can deny that, he rushes forward and grabs me up from the blankets, his hands sliding underneath my arms. He lifts me up like a naughty puppy and pulls me close to scold me with furious snapping teeth.
“You try to take my life after I feed you? Why are your clothes half on?”
This is the downside to a jumpsuit. You can’t touch yourself without drawing the zipper down to a frankly suspicious level. My zip is all the way down past my navel.
He draws in a deep breath.
“You have pleasured yourself while I fought to survive,” he snarls. “What a twisted little animal you are.”
“I didn’t…”
There’s not really any way to deny what happened, because what he thinks happened is what happened, but it was an accidental coincidence. I can already tell he’s not going to believe me when I tell him that.
“What didn’t you do? You didn’t try to kill me, and you didn’t manage to succeed?”
“I can’t kill you with my pussy,” I blurt.
Some of his anger fades, but only momentarily. “Do not try to distract me, human. I may wish to fuck you, but I promise you, you do not want my cock with me in this temper. I do not like it when my little fuck pets try to kill me.”