His Human Conquest Page 7

  I want to protest that none of this would be happening if they hadn’t invaded, but what if he’s right? What if they’re here to save lives, and I just made that harder?

  “I’m sorry, sir,” I say, and I think he can tell I mean it.

  He runs his hand through my hair, nodding. “I know you are. Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you, sir.” My body loosens, relieved by his words. Making him happy does something to me that I’ve never felt for another man before. Part of me wants to pretend it’s because I’m helping out all of humanity when I satisfy him, but it feels more personal. He could have literally any woman in the world, but it’s me who he wants. He could find someone more disciplined than me, someone who wouldn’t ever defy him—but he hasn’t, and for some reason I’m glad.

  Vol smiles, pulling down his pants. “Let’s make it up to one another, okay?” He pulls out his cock, which rapidly grows erect in his hand. Thicker and longer than I could have even imagined, I see I was right to wonder how I could possibly fit it inside me.

  He holds it in front of my face, and I only hesitate for a moment, then I open my mouth. It’s not just that serving him will help make things better for humanity—I’ll do whatever it takes to help my world—but I want to do this, for him.

  I take his tip into my mouth, sucking hard. The salty taste of his skin fills my senses; his pleased growl encourages me to continue. I lick his tip until it glistens with my saliva, then take in as much of his shaft as I can without gagging. Unfortunately, it isn’t very much.

  “Is that the best you can do, pet?” he says, holding my head, pressing it forward so that I have to take him deeper. “I’m going to have to train you better.”

  He lets go, and I cough, gagging hard. “Yes, sir,” I rasp.

  After a minute, I try again, taking in a little more of his length, letting my throat open so I don’t react to his impossibly massive intrusion. I try not to think about the plug still lodged in my ass, and how I’ve never been invaded at both ends like this before. It’s causing my pussy to throb with need.

  Once I’ve sucked at Vol’s tip long enough for him to start breathing heavy, he starts thrusting himself into my mouth, picking up speed as he goes. My wet gulps make his cock twitch and he exhales blissfully.

  Acting quickly, he pulls out his cock and lifts me to my feet. He spins me around and bends me over, then drives his slick member deep into my drenched chasm. Groaning happily, I feel his rod against the plug in my ass, a pleasure so intense I can’t help feeling utterly sinful.

  “How does that feel, pet?” Vol asks.

  “So good,” I mumble, barely able to speak intelligibly.

  “After being caned and degraded in front of a dozen Dominars, you still want to come?”

  “Yes, sir,” I say. He pounds my pussy like a machine, and nothing in this universe could make me want it to stop.

  “Even after having your ass and mouth penetrated and punished, you still want to come?”

  I don’t care what he’s done to me—I need this, and I need it now.

  “Yes!” I howl. “Please, sir! May I come?”

  Vol gives my ass a hard slap, then begins hammering me even harder and faster. “You may, pet,” he grunts.

  Despite all the pain and humiliation I’ve suffered this day, the exquisite joy enveloping my body right now is so intense, everything else goes away. Maybe it’s been too long since I got laid, or the astounding vigor of a superior ancient being, but I’m totally intoxicated by bliss.

  “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Vol says. “You feel amazing.”

  “You’re… so… big,” I reply, lost in ecstasy, coming so hard my head swims. I’m so enraptured, I barely feel his hot seed burst inside me. When he pulls out, and removes the plug in my ass, I moan with relief and disappointment; I feel incredible, but I don’t want it to stop.

  Vol picks me up and takes me to his bed, laying me down next to him. I don’t know how many minutes or hours go by as I try to regain my senses, but I feel Vol’s arm wrapped around my stomach the whole time.

  “Oh, god,” I say at last, digging my forehead into a wonderfully soft pillow. “That was incredible.”

  He kisses my neck and gives me a little squeeze. “It was. You’re an amazing woman, Jillian.”

  I blush, basking in pride, though I still feel foolish. He’s happy with the way I took his punishment and served him; that shouldn’t bring me such deep satisfaction, but it does.

  “What happens now?” I ask, reaching down to rub my bottom. Much of the pain has abated, no doubt thanks to the nanites, but I can still feel a tingle. “I want to help repair the damage I did today.”

  Vol chuckles. “You will soon, pet. First, it’s time for the Dominars to show humanity what we can do.”

  Chapter Nine

  Vol

  Redeemer drifts in orbit over Earth where it can be observed not just by satellites and telescopes, but the naked human eye, for those who care to look. Hopefully the world will be watching it, and our target won’t expect us. We’ve waited for night to fall over at the primary headquarters of the Al-Quansa terrorist network; now the sun has set.

  Jillian and Briette watch as my squad assembles with me on the bridge. The ten of them stand ready, no hint of fear or doubt on their faces. None of us are worried about our own lives—we will have ample protection—but they know my ultimate directive: our enemies are not to be killed, even if other humans would insist they deserve it.

  I nod to Briette, who will personally stand by to watch after Jillian while I’m off ship. Then I take Jillian in my arms and kiss her. She tastes like sugar and sex, and she moans as our lips and tongues dance. Before I let her go, I pat her bottom, feeling through her singlet for the plug buried in her ass. I’ll enjoy knowing she’s feeling it while I’m away, and I’ll look forward to finding it when I return.

  “Have a seat, pet,” I tell her, pointing to a throne-like chair I’ve procured.

  She complies with my order without a word, though she gasps softly when she sits down and jostles the plug. Restraints built into the chair emerge to bind her arms and legs, ensuring that she’ll stay put until I or another Dominar lets her out. “Tell Briette if you need anything, okay?”

  “Yes, sir,” she says, squirming to try to get comfortable.

  “Briette, if she misbehaves, you have my permission to gag her.”

  “Yes, Commander,” Briette replies.

  “Sir,” Jillian squeaks. “Be careful out there.”

  I smile, touched by the genuine concern in her voice. I would have thought she’d be focused on alleviating her discomfort, but she’s thinking of me.

  I kiss Jillian’s forehead. “I will. Don’t worry.” Then I turn to my squad. “Dominars: onward.”

  * * *

  Our transport shuttle slices through the atmosphere like a scalpel. Rather than streak through the night sky like a shooting star, the small ship is completely cloaked—invisible to the eyes and instruments of humans. They’ll never see us coming.

  As we descend I don my combat armor, feeling its plates weave around me in an indestructible mesh. The humans could drop a mountain on my squad and we’d still probably dig our way out. I strap a pulse rifle to my back and opt to carry a sidearm; I can shoot just as fast with either, and they’re both set to stun anyway. With any luck, we will accomplish our mission with surgical precision, utilizing stealth to subdue the enemy before they have any idea what’s happening. We will detain every combatant we see; we will kill only if unquestionably necessary.

  My squad deploys just outside the enemy compound by leaping out the back of our ship. Thrusters in our suits quietly slow our landing and get us within yards of our target. Once the shuttle departs, the only sound we hear is the desert wind; no one stirs or raises an alarm. Our arrival has gone unnoticed.

  Here we go.

  Orbital scans have picked up heat signatures in guard towers on all sides of the compound. Activating our suits’ ad
aptive camouflage, we circumnavigate the area, splitting up until every single sentry is in our sites.

  All units, prepare to fire, I communicate through the nanites. Now!

  Simultaneously my squad fires eight stun bolts; a second later, eight bodies go limp and fall. They’ll be unconscious for hours, and if all goes to plan, they will wake up in a Dominar detention center.

  With the sentries all down, my men storm in like wraiths. A few campfires smoke and smolder, throwing out hardly a glow; starlight provides the only real illumination. Most of the compound’s interior consists of small trailers and tents, all of which are easy to enter quietly. Their occupants sleep restlessly, tossing and turning, or whisper conversations that only our advanced audio receivers can pick up. Has the arrival of aliens affected their plans for the future, or made them doubt their cause? I’ll be curious to analyze our recordings and see.

  My squad slips in and out, stunning everyone without incident. The job is easy for my squad, which has successfully run countless infiltration missions. However, we’re not finished yet.

  All hostiles have been subdued, reports Hallyx, who leads the squad when I am unavailable.

  Good, I respond. Meet up with me. I’ll take point from here.

  One by one, my squad files into the trailer where I’m waiting; when they’ve all arrived, I lift a large wooden panel meant to resemble the trailer floor, but is, in fact, a cut-out. Once I set it aside, the entrance to a dark underground passage looms in front of me.

  As they say here on Earth, into the breach!

  I step off the ledge, ignoring the wooden rods that form a ladder. I fall a full flight, landing in a crouch, weapon ready. In front of me is a dark, cramped corridor that forces me to stand with my knees bent; like a tunnel in a mine, it’s lit by bare bulbs wired up along the dirt walls. Proceeding forward, I turn a corner and see a pair of guards. Gripping AK-47s and whispering to each other, they stop talking and stare at me. I don’t give them time to react: I pop two shots into their chests, dropping them immediately. Sonic scans show their heart rates at levels consistent with deep sleep, so I step over them and continue onward.

  For several minutes I proceed carefully and quietly, knocking out combatants at every turn. However, my luck runs out when the corridor ends at a thick metal door. Though not locked, the rusted hinges grind noisily, attracting the attention of all eight men in the room.

  Either these men are well-trained or something clued them into the attack, because they don’t hesitate in drawing their machine guns and opening fire. There’s nowhere for me to take cover, and in these close quarters, there’s no time for that—hundreds of bullets impact my suit.

  I don’t even feel it. My shields hold steady, absorbing and dispersing the impact of each shot. I wait for them to empty their magazines, just to make sure no stray bullets hit anyone else. Then I take aim with my piece and start dropping the gunners.

  To their credit, they refuse to go quietly, rushing me to attack with knives and fists. I manage to stun all but one; the last ducks my shot, throwing his empty gun at me. The weapon bounces off my suit harmlessly, but the distraction gives my assailant time to close the distance and drive a fist into my helmet.

  My suit is hard enough to endure the vacuum of space; it can take a punch. I hear bones breaking in the man’s hand, yet he doesn’t scream or curse. He simply raises his other hand, ready to continue the fight. I grin, then deactivate my helmet, showing him my face. My energy shields are still active, and will stop anything moving fast enough to kill me—but if this human thinks he can get in another punch, he’s welcome to try.

  He snarls, unimpressed by my sense of sportsmanship, and moves in to strike. Feinting with his broken hand, he throws a lightning-quick punch with his other; I block the swing with a raised arm, but the fact he forced me to block at all speaks to his skill.

  As I parry his attacks, my squad files into the room, watching our sparring; though they wait, they keep their weapons drawn, watching for any tricks.

  My foe must know this is a fight he can’t win; every move he tries, I either evade or parry. He’s tiring himself out, and I could do this for days. Sure enough, recognizing the inevitability of loss, he throws all of his remaining strength into a flurry of blows, hammering at me from all sides with kicks and punches. I stop them all, except the last: a body punch that hits me square in the chest. If he’d been fighting another human, the shot would have broken a few ribs. Instead, he only manages to break his other hand against my armor.

  “It wasn’t a fair fight,” he snarls, his language translated by my nanites.

  “Says the terrorist leader,” I reply, pushing him against the wall. Secure the rest of the bunker, I tell my squad.

  I hold my hand over my opponent’s forehead, transferring some nanites into his brain. At first, they merely render him unconscious, but within seconds they begin scanning, feeding me every piece of information he has: locations of other cells in his network, plans for upcoming attacks, contacts with arms dealers—everything I need to dismantle Al-Quansa brick by brick.

  All hostiles have been neutralized, Hallyx reports after a few minutes.

  Well done, I reply. I message my ship to send a transport; we’ve got prisoners to take into custody, and a new series of targets to take down.

  But first, I open a channel to news feeds around the world.

  “This is Commander Vol. I’m standing in the main outpost of the Al-Quansa terrorist network. My squad and I have successfully subdued all of its occupants and have seized vital information on the whereabouts of more of their ranks. I will transmit our findings to world authorities in moments, and will deploy myself and my fellow Dominars to take them down in the coming hours. Not one human was killed in the process of this mission, and it is my promise to complete my remaining missions in similar fashion.

  “I carried out this raid to show you all that the Dominars are dedicated to stopping those who would oppress and destroy your people. This is what humanity can expect under Dominar rule: evil people will be found and captured so that peace may reign. Thank you.”

  I end the transmission, then send a message to Briette: Give Jillian my apologies; I’m going to be a while longer.

  In my head, I view a map of my next targets and design an attack plan to hit all of them at once. I send it to my squad and the soldiers aboard Redeemer. They report that they’ll be ready to deploy in minutes.

  I reach down and pick up the man I fought, slinging him onto my back. Good job, I tell my squad. But there’s a lot more work to be done. Let’s move.

  Chapter Ten

  Jillian

  “Sorry,” says Briette. “Looks like they’re not coming back for a while.”

  Figures.

  “Thank you, miss,” I say, shifting in my seat for the thousandth time. No matter how I try, the plug in my ass won’t let me get comfortable, a fact that has helped time slow to a maddening crawl.

  In truth, Vol and his squad haven’t been gone very long—it only feels like it’s been ages. Briette and I have been monitoring Vol’s attack in real time since it started—the whole time, fear has wormed through my gut. I know his Dominar technology will keep him safe, but I can’t help worrying—which means I care about him. Is that wrong? Shouldn’t I be glad that the alien keeping me captive has a slight chance of dying?

  I don’t know. I’ve stopped seeing myself that way—I may not be free, but I don’t feel like a captive either. Vol may have unusual ways of showing his affection, but I’m not exactly normal either, as I’m discovering. Is that why I never seemed to click with men on Earth? Have I not understood my own needs this whole time? Should I be thanking Vol for figuring me out when no one else could? Maybe. At least the media on Earth have stopped talking about my ‘captivity’—now they’re following up on the dismantling of Al-Quansa. Some pundits are applauding the Dominars’ ability to accomplish in a single night what the world’s intelligence organizations and militaries couldn’t
do in years. Others are worried about where this will lead—what happens if we don’t like who the Dominars choose for their next target? It’s all wild speculation, of course—they don’t know Vol, not like I do. Maybe that’s why I’m here.

  For now, I watch and listen as the Dominar strike teams report one successful mission after another. It takes too long, but I finally hear the announcement I’ve been waiting for. “All missions complete,” Briette says, smiling as she listens to her nanites. “All squads are returning to Redeemer now.”

  A round of applause goes up from the crew; though I can’t clap with my hands bound, I do grin and nod.

  If this is what the Dominars are here to do, we’re going to be okay.

  I don’t think I stop smiling the entire time as I watch Vol’s shuttle on the holographic display. After docking, it doesn’t take him long to reach the bridge, surrounded by his team, who shake hands with the crew and deactivate their armor.

  Vol, however, comes straight to me. My restraints disengage, and I stand up, letting Vol wrap his arms around me. He kisses me as if he hasn’t seen me in days, squeezing me tightly to his hard body. I don’t care if there are dozens of aliens watching us right now—I moan happily, melting in his embrace.

  Is this love? Is that why I was worried for his safety? Or am I just glad I could get out of my seat, where I would have surely stayed if something happened to Vol? What about lust? Is that why I’m so excited he’s back? It’s hard for me to know what’s going on anymore. Still, I know that I feel good—I can sort out the rest later.

  Then he reaches down my back, and I think he’s going to go for my plug, which aches from being in so long—however, he instead goes even lower so that he can pick me up off the floor and carry me away. I cackle in shock at the unexpected move, kicking my feet in the air and clinging to his muscular arms.