Warning: My stories include lesbian themed rape and torture. This isn’t BSDM practicing “safe, sane, and consensual” It is rape. It is torture. There are few happy endings here.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

I do not condone rape or torture ... except for fictional characters in fictional stories.

Arrival - Ri’xon The acrid smell of fried electronics fills the air. Damn government contractors! Greedy bastards cut every corner, just to save a credit.

My ears drop as I survey the damage. The bracket holding the emergency control panel snapped. It slammed into the main power conduit which, of course, wasn’t properly shielded. A 10-credit bracket. Damn them! This is bad. Really bad.

I float back to the pilot’s chair, then strap myself down. I flip through the controls. Few systems respond, and most of them flash warnings.

After several hours of desperate checking, I’m forced to admit the emergency backup system is completely fried. Surprisingly little damage was done to the primary systems. But, they are far more power hungry. And the fusion generator is little more than an expensive mass of fried boards and molten wires. All that’s left is battery backup. Batteries. They only provide enough power to keep me alive until help arrives. I’m in the middle of nowhere, I’ll lose life-support before help arrives.

Long range communications and primary thrusters are out. So is my jump drive. While they technically work, all three require obscene amounts of power. Battery backups can’t bring them online.

I try to recapture my earlier excitement.

The job seemed perfect. Searching for emerging intelligent life. Checking to see if they are ready for first contact. I love being a part of it. After ten years of service, at last, I found a world with a new sentient species. It’s time to observe; test a couple of the locals. Then wipe their memories and leave without a trace.

I don’t want to wipe memories but understand the necessity. Contacting an emerging race, without senate approval, is unthinkable. Entire civilizations have been lost through bungled first contacts. We no longer take chances. It’s the only crime with a mandatory death sentence. No excuses. No second chances.

My heart sinks. I found intelligent life just in time for it to be a crippling disadvantage. I can’t be discovered. I growl in frustration. At least cloaking works. It should last until the thrusters drain the remaining power. I can’t stay cloaked after that!

At least I have time. In fact, I have far too much of it. I may as well learn what I can. After scanning and translating the primitive communications networks, I decide to spend the rest of the trip studying local languages. The planet grows in my viewport with glacial slowness. What feels unbearably slow now will be suicidally fast when I arrive.

I only have one chance. Aim for somewhere remote. Wait until the last second, then maximum burn. Cloaking will hide me until the thruster fires. The question is how hard I’ll hit. Once I’m safely on the ground I’ll be okay. Sooner or later someone will show up, and I’ll flag them down. With the help of my augmentations, I’ll be able to survive.

Nearly everything about the body and mind can be improved with bio augments. Soldiers use them to increase strength, reaction time, accuracy, and other miscellaneous things. I’m not a soldier. The only augmentation package I have is survival. Thanks to it, I can metabolize the local wildlife. Even if it tastes nasty.

When the time arrives, I deploy my protective crash webbing. The computer will take care of landing. I close my eyes and try to calm my nerves. The ship screams as it tears through the air. Any second now, the thrusters will fire. Pounding heart in my throat, I wait. The scent of my fear thick in the air. The rumbling of the thrusters vibrates through my body, and I’m pressed against the webbing. It’s like someone is standing on my chest. Doing jumping jacks. With a friend. It’s hard to breathe against the pressure, and my vision fades.

I wake. My whole body feels bruised. I groan and then extract myself from the protective webbing. Everything is quiet. I check the sensors. The ship is at the bottom of a pond, completely covered by water. Hmm, That’s a good thing. It’s deep enough to hide the ship, but not so deep that I can’t swim out. This makes a perfect hidden base. I’ll wait until tonight then look around!

I prepare to leave the ship for an extended trip. My backpack and utility belt are well stocked, and my gun is in its holster by the time darkness falls. I cycle the airlock. Warn water rushes in, and I pull my rebreather into place. I swim up and out, using the moonlight as a guide. Once I reach the surface, I strike out for shore. New and exciting scents are thick in the air, fighting for attention. Under the assault, my nose is practically worthless. My ears swivel alertly, catching every new sound. I can’t wait to explore this exciting place. Before long the water is shallow enough to walk.

As I walk through the waist deep water, a dark mass floating in the water next to me suddenly twists around and chomps down on my waist. Bones crunch, and white agony fills my mind. The monster, an ambush predator, shakes me violently. It drags me underwater, swimming rapidly through the weeds. The plants scrape against my face and body, and the rebreather is ripped from my head. Only my augments keep me conscious as I’m brutally spun.

Lungs burning, my lower half worse than useless, I desperately force a hand between the monster’s jaws. My gun is trapped between its jaws and my leg. I desperately twist the holster out and away as my fingers slide into place. I pull the trigger. Light flashes in the darkness. Literally firing from inside the monster’s mouth insures a clean hit. It thrashes in pain before spitting me out. Leaving the dying creature behind me, I desperately swim towards air. I can’t feel my legs. They flop uselessly behind me, a dead weight in the water. Only my faith in my survival augmentation keeps me going. Every movement drives a spike of pain through me. I can’t stop. What if there is another? I drag myself through the shallow water, strength rapidly draining. My mind slows. My body refuses to move, and I collapse. The smell of decay and rot surround me as my consciousness fades.

Fishing - Lisa - Day 1

I wake early, looking forward to the first day of vacation. The empty bed sours my mood. We split months ago. His excuse for cheating on me was insulting. I’m not too demanding or a control freak. Even if I was, he should have left, not slept around behind my back. I take a deep breath. Not today. It’s over now, and I rented this cabin for a whole week. Nothing to do but relax. No computer. No email. No work.

After eating a light breakfast, I walk through the dew-covered grass down to the pond. The birds, just waking up, fill the air with their song. The heavy scent of fresh morning air brings a smile to my face.

Fishing pole, tackle box, and bucket in hand, I approach the pond. Several birds fight over a large mudfish. That’s strange. The previous guest must have caught it and left it on the shore to die. Either eat or catch and release. Don’t kill for no fucking reason! I ignore the birds fighting over the dead fish and push through the brush next to the pond.

So many dead fish! So many flies! It looks like someone took all the fish in the pond and threw them onto shore. A huge alligator! Heart pounding, I jump back, bouncing off the brush behind me. I fall on my butt and scoot away. It’s about fifteen feet long. Big enough to be deadly. Its side is torn open. Oh! It’s dead. I take a few calming breaths, then stand up and brush myself off.

The flesh inside the wound is burned and blackened. That makes no sense. What burned it? Lightning? Did someone try fishing with dynamite? Dark metal glints in the sunlight. Behind the gator, on the bottom of the pond. I step closer. Trying to understand. It suddenly snaps into focus.

A rocket! It’s a rocket! Or ... It’s impossible, but it looks like a spaceship! Mouth dry, I stare at the ship. It fills half the pond. At least a hundred and fifty feet long. I begin circling it. The cockpit has a single pilot’s seat. It can’t be what it looks like. Could it be a new type of jet? Eyes locked on the ship, I continue to circle the pond.

I trip, and something whimpers in pain. Something ... No ... Someone lies bleeding in stagnant shallow water at the edge of the pond. Stunned, I freeze, my mind stuttering in shock. It really is a spaceship. That’s not human. It isn’t anything else from earth either.

The creature is covered with soft red fur. It looks like a cross between a human and a fox. It’s easy enough to understand what happened. The ship “cannonballed” into the water, and the splash tossed everything on shore. Most of the fish were left high and dry when the water flowed back in. The alligator was probably sunning itself on shore. When the creature left the ship and climbed on shore the alligator attacked. It’s bite wounds, slowly oozing blood, and mangled legs testify to that.

I carefully roll the wounded alien over. Her. Definitely her. Those breasts don’t belong to an “it.” Her belly is covered in short white fur. Incredibly soft and strangely elegant. She is smaller than me, her head probably comes up to my chest. She is light enough to carry without straining. I carry her back to the cabin. What should I do? Call the police? An ambulance? The FBI? Reporters?

By the time I arrive, she stirs in my arms. Yellow eyes, glazed with pain, look up at me. She is awake! She whispers in strangely accented English. “Hello. I’m Ri’xon.”

“I’m Lisa. Umm. Welcome to earth? You have serious injuries from an alligator attack. At the very least your legs are broken.”

“Don’t tell anyone about me! Please!” After a few shallow, pain-filled breaths she continues. “I will heal. I just need lots of meat and water. It will help if you set the bones in my legs.” Her eyes close, and she doesn’t respond to further questions.

I prepare as well as I know how. A bucket of warm water, washcloths, towels, a knife, and a first aid kit. I place Ri’xon flat on the table. She whimpers in pain when I gently remove her boots and set them aside with her backpack and utility belt. The holster is empty, probably lost in the fight.

The fur covering Ri’xon’s legs is thick enough to run my fingers through. Her tail is even thicker and bushy. Her inner thighs are covered in the same short fur as her belly. From neck to knee she looks human, except for the fur. Her feet and lower legs have more in common with an animal that walks on four legs than us.

Her head is far closer to a fox than human. Large ears folded tight against her skull, silently express pain. Her snout ends in a small black nose. A long pink tongue peeks between her teeth. I wonder what ... I shake my head to clear it. It’s time to focus on the job at hand.

I can’t clean her wounds through that outfit. Using a kitchen knife, I slice up the side of Ri’xon’s tight outfit. Her fur is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s as smooth as silk. This is what all those conditioner commercials promise and never deliver. It’s hard work, but I cut through the tough fabric. As though the universe is rewarding me for my effort, the fabric, slowly being released, pulls away exposing more and more of her dainty white fur. When I cut through the first shoulder strap, a breast is suddenly exposed.

I take a moment to enjoy the view. I’ve never wanted a woman before, but I want her. I want to touch her. I want to taste her. Heart pounding in my chest, I gently stroke her exposed breast. Her fur is almost invisible, and the areola and nipple are completely hairless. I slide my thumb across her nipple. The areola tightens, and the nipple perks up. Ri’xon stirs. I freeze, holding my breath. Please don’t wake up. I wait for several long moments. Silence. I cut the last shoulder strap, and pull the top down, exposing both breasts. What a beautiful view.

I dip a washcloth in the warm water and use it to gently clean Ri’xon’s exposed body. Starting with her neck, and slowly working my way down one side and then the other. By the time I finish, I’m flushed, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. I’ve never felt like this. Even the first time I saw a man nude. Her sides clean, I move to Ri’xon’s stomach, and slowly work my way up. Please don’t wake up. Things lower than my stomach tighten as I reach her beautiful breasts. I set the washcloth down and cup my hands in the warm water. I allow the liquid to slowly drip through my fingers onto both perfect breasts. At last, I gently use my fingers to scrub the dirt and mud away. It takes two hands to cup each one. I take my time, enjoying the feel, the weight in my hands. Only the thought of moving lower causes me to stop. I use a washcloth to wipe the last traces of dirt away. After several long minutes, I regretfully cover her with a towel.

I can’t slide the remains of her outfit down her injured legs, so I need to cut the crotch strap. An aching curiosity fills me. I can’t just slide a pair of scissors down there. Right? I might nick her in a very tender location. I slide a finger under the strap. Just to protect her from the scissors. Then I slide the scissors along my finger. A few quick snips later, and the fabric pulls away. Exposing everything. I shudder at the sudden rush of pleasure. The already fine hair on Ri’xon’s stomach gets even shorter and thinner as it approaches the slit between her legs. I’m both excited and disappointed that there is so little to see. The outer lips hide everything else. It’s like a treasure chest waiting to be opened. Slowly, eyes on her face, I reach out with a trembling hand. I gently cup the curve of her body. Inner thighs warm the sides of my hand. All my senses are focused on my middle finger, as it rests along her slit. I’m so close to the treasure. Just a little pressure and my finger would slide in. What would happen if she woke up with my finger inside her? My courage fails me, and I quickly wipe the area clean and cover her with another towel.

What was I thinking? I’ve read enough sci-fi to know better. She could have an AI watching over her. If she was human, it would be considered sexual battery here in Louisiana. It could involve jail time! At least I think so. I don’t know anything about her culture. It could be a death sentence where she comes from. I’m also making huge assumptions about her physiology because she looks so much like us. God! What if she’s a robot designed to look sexy and helpless. Sent to test us. Fuck. That’s a real possibility. I wish I hadn’t thought of it.

Well, nothing to do but move forward. I’ll play my part and do my best to help her.

Both of Ri’xon’s thighs, and one ankle are broken. For a moment, I’m not sure how to proceed. I need to hold her down while I pull on her leg to set it. Thoughts of leather straps and rope fill my mind, but I dismiss them in favor of a much simpler solution. I climb onto the table, and straddle one leg, facing Ri’xon’s feet. It’s awkward, but I manage by threading one of my legs under Ri’xon’s other leg. In this position, the back of my thigh is, not-so-accidently, braced between Ri’xon’s legs. I lock my legs in place and pull. Ri’xon howls in agony. Literally. She howls her agony like an animal. After a long moment, the bone slides back into place.

I quickly tie an improvised splint in place, then turn around, looking into the eyes of the beautiful sobbing alien.

“That one is set. I’m sorry, there are two more breaks. Then I’ll bandage the bite and carry you to bed.”

“Please, I’d like food, preferably meat, and drink first. Then finish. If I have enough food in my belly, I’ll fall into a deep healing sleep, only waking up for food. In a few days I will be good as new.”

I went to the kitchen and returned with a two-pack of raw chicken breasts and a pound of cooked hamburger. All the meat that isn’t frozen. I help Ri’xon sit up enough to eat. She quickly wolfs both down. Unsure how drinking would work, I finally just fill a large bowl and help Ri’xon lean over it. She doesn’t lap it up. Ri’xon sticks her snout in and sucks it up. Something like a straw. Then she licks the water off her muzzle.

Ri’xon says, “Thank you. Please bring me the green tablet in my backpack.” Once I return with the tablet, Ri’xon places her hand on it and speaks a few words in an alien language. The screen flickers red, then goes dark. “Place your hand on the screen to claim it.” says Ri’xon. Bemused, I follow her orders. The screen turns blue, then lights up. Ri’xon pulls it away, and flips through a few controls, before passing it back. Shocked, I stare at the screen. Most of the writing is now in English.

“It is an introduction to the galactic civilization. Consider it a thank you gift for the care you have shown. Be warned. It is in secure mode. It will not work for anyone but you, and it will shut down if anyone other than the two of us is in range. Browse it at your leisure while I sleep.”

She takes a deep breath. “Please finish before I lose my nerve.”

I climb back onto the table and get into position. With Ri’xon awake, I don’t dare let the towel “slip.” I enjoy the feel of Ri’xon’s leg pressed tightly against my pussy, even through my pants. I set the last bones, enjoying the way she trembles against me as she howls in pain. My panties go from damp to soaked in the few minutes required to finish the job. I clean the bite marks and wrap gauze around the wounds.

I carefully carry Ri’xon to bed. The smooth body, so sensual, so alien, and so very helpless makes me ache with desire. I can feel a line of liquid slowly dripping down my inner thigh.

I sit next to the bed, reading the tablet. Only leaving her side to grab a quick sandwich and something to drink. The information is well organized, and after a full day of study I feel reasonably comfortable with the situation.

Early the next morning, I head to town for some supplies. Ri’xon sleeps through most of the next day, only waking once for more food. When I ask her about the ship, and why she wasn’t following the approved procedure. Ri’xon explains about the damage, and the crash landing. That she must wait until someone else scouts the area, then she can send a message to them, though that could take years. As the situation becomes clear, I feel something dark inside of me smile.

Later that night, as I sit in the dark, I pull down the sheet and watch Ri’xon’s nude body in the moonlight. I can feel two paths in front of me. On one I have a future. Good friends, and a family. Everything I’ve always wanted. On the other, I am alone, unable to allow anyone into my life. No friends. No family. No one. Except Ri’xon.

I enjoyed playing dominant games with my ex-husband, but this time I’m not thinking about BDSM. This is something completely different. I admit the truth to myself. I’m not thinking about anything consensual. I want to rape her. I want to hurt her. I want to break her.

I come to a decision.

For the first time, I deliberately choose the destructive path. The one that will end in my death, perhaps as soon as tomorrow. For all I know, she can stop me with the snap of her fingers. I may spend the rest of my life begging to die. Even if everything works out perfectly, I’ll always be just one small mistake from being discovered. I can see the headlines now. Real alien found in the hands of a sadistic rapist. I’d never survive the backlash.

It makes my stomach flutter with both anticipation and fear. I’ll take her, fuck her, bend her to my will, and then break her. A nervous chuckle escapes my lips. Ri’xon will be my literal pet. In every sense of the word! I spend a long sleepless night, planning for tomorrow. Enjoying every minute of it.

After feeding Ri’xon in the morning, I head to town. I talk to the owner of the cabin and begin the process of purchasing both it and the surrounding land, naturally this includes the pond. Then I call work, I explain that a personal emergency came up, and I must move to Louisiana. They quickly offer to let me work remotely, and I “reluctantly” agree. Ah, the joys of being a programmer.

Then I spend some time in the pet store. After that I purchase a large utility shed and rent a trailer. My last stop is a hardware store. The sun is setting by the time I finish and return to the cabin. I leave most of the supplies in the trailer, and head to the bedroom.

I smile at the sight of the strange and beautiful being sleeping on my bed.

My Pet.

Morning - Ri’xon - Day 3

Deep ravaging hunger twists and claws my stomach. The hunger of hibernation healing is impossible to ignore. On the plus side, my legs barely ache, and my side doesn’t hurt at all.

Lisa’s musky scent comes to me. Her sweet and tangy smell is strange, but after the last few days, it’s comforting. She sits in a chair next to me. Reading the tablet in the early morning light.

“Good morning! I feel much better today. Thank you for taking care of me. I hate to ask, but I’m very hungry. Please, do you have anything I can eat?”

The sheet falls when I sit up. I’m naked! I yank it back up. Clothing. I need clothing! Lisa must have undressed me. Of course, she did. She couldn’t tend the bite through my clothes. Necessity before modesty. I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but my face heats anyway. I turn away in shame. It’s a long moment before I can bring myself to look at her again.

Lisa smiles. “Morning Pet. Call me Mistress.”

My blood freezes in my veins. My ears swivel, focusing on the predator in the room. Something in her eyes. Her movement. Her smile. She’s the hunter and I’m the prey. My heart pounds, and my stomach twists with fear. Every instinct I have screams in warning. Don’t move. Hide. Hope someone else attracts her attention. In that moment, I know this species isn’t ready.

Little changes jump out at me. Lisa’s chair. It should be close enough to touch. Now it’s out of reach. The bedside window isn’t simply closed, a thick translucent sheet covers it. Lisa holds a white rod in one hand. It’s clearly some kind of weapon. When will my run of bad luck end? What have I fallen into this time? I reach up to my neck with a shaking hand. An uncomfortably tight pressure tells me what my fingers will find. A collar. A rope.

The tablet! I shout a command, activating its emergency defense measures. The primitive will regret restraining me!

Nothing happens.

What? It’s in her hands! The response should be immediate! She’s still conscious? What’s going on?

I shout another command, and nothing happens.

Lisa smiles. She flips the tablet around. Both sides are the same smooth shade of green. “It’s just a piece of plastic, painted the same color as the tablet. Do you really think I’ll ever allow you near a piece of your technology again? You already demonstrated its voice controlled.” She’s right. Nothing of mine is in sight. How could I have been so stupid!

My fur stands up and I growl menacingly. “Your primitive technology is worthless compared to mine! If you don’t release me at once, you will die!”

She says, “I keep thinking ... While I could easily slaughter a caveman with modern weapons, without them, I’d be practically helpless. Have I successfully disarmed you? I’ll know soon enough.”

Lisa lunges forward. The pronged white rod slams into my stomach. Electricity crackles and the scent of ozone fills the air. I scream at the sudden pain and jerk away, my muscles twitch uncontrollably in the wake of the shock. It’s an electric probe. She jabs it into my side. Another crackling surge of pain. Desperately, I try to get out of range, but she shocks me again and again, trapping me in the corner. Unable to escape the painful shocks I curl into a helpless ball, howling in fear and pain.

It stops. I feel her breath in my ear. “What do you call me?”

I’m the predator here! My sensitive ears tell me exactly where she is. Reacting instantly, I clamp my jaws around her neck. “Dead!” I snarl through my teeth. I try to jerk my head to the side to rip out her throat, but she grabs my jaws in her hands and collapses on top of me. Her weight pins me in place, but she can’t force my jaws open. Coppery blood trickles into my mouth! I try to scratch and claw at her, but my hands are trapped under her weight. I can’t do real damage. I focus on the bite. Hold on. Keep the pressure on. She shifts her position. Suddenly all her weight is on one knee, driving air from my lungs. Pressure crushes down between my breasts. I feel lightheaded, but bite down desperately. Everything slowly fades away.

Someone shoves my head to the side and heavy straps press against my face. For a long moment I’m confused. Is this a dream? Lisa! That’s a muzzle! Crap! I try to push her away but find that my hands are locked behind my back. Handcuffs? Double Crap! I had her in a perfect throat hold and she still beat me!

I feel her breath in my ear. “What’s my name?” Her horse voice brings a smile to my lips. My confidence returns. I can’t bite right now, but I almost had her. I’ll get another chance.

I don’t remember what she said to call her, it was a word I’d never heard before. It doesn’t really matter though. I’m not going to give her the satisfaction. I glare at her. The fresh blood dripping down her neck widens my smile.

“Bitch!” Thankfully, the muzzle doesn’t prevent speech.

A hand clamps on my snout, holding my jaws shut, preventing further speech. Only when I try to twist away do I realize just how completely helpless I am. I’m still in bed, but now my feet are cuffed together, and attached to the foot of the bed. My arms are handcuffed behind my back. The collar, completely forgotten in the heat of the moment must be attached to the head of the bed. She easily holds my jaws shut with one hand. The other comes into view holding the electronic probe.

With chilling speed, my confidence deserts me, and I become prey. I try to speak, to apologize, to beg. All that comes out are grunts through her vice-like grip. A shiver of fear rushes across my skin as the probe encounters my thigh. For a moment nothing happens, then pain explodes from the contact points. My leg locks and I writhe in agony.

The probe comes to rest on my breast. The forked tips resting on either side of my nipple. Panic claws at my mind, and I try to escape. My panicked flailing causes my breasts to bounce, but she doesn’t let the probe break contact. After several panicked minutes of useless struggling, I force myself to hold still.

“This cattle prod comes highly recommended. Instead of a cheap toy or stun gun, it’s designed for ranchers that deal with bulls weighing 2,000 pounds or more daily. You don’t want to stun a bull that big. You just want to make it move, so it doesn’t incapacitate or cause serious damage ... Just pain. Lots of pain.”

“Are you ready, no eager, to address me properly?”

I frantically nod my head. I’ll call her whatever she wants!

“Good.”

Then pain lances through my nipple. It goes on and on. I can’t escape! I can’t pull away! When it stops, I just lay there. Drained. Terrified.

A nod means yes doesn’t it? Didn’t I give the answer she wanted? Why is she doing this? What does she want?

That’s stupid. I know what she wants. Technology. My ship. Thoughts flicker faster and faster. She plans to torture the information out of me! If she is willing to go far enough, she will break me, it just takes time.

My breath catches in my throat when I feel it come to rest between my legs.

“Don’t say a word.” Her hand releases my mouth. I lay there silently. Listening to my own fearful breathing and pounding heart. She smiles that same predatory smile.

“Good pet. You indicated that you are eager to address me properly. In a minute I’ll give you a chance. I want you to understand something first. Addressing me properly isn’t going to stop the pain. I’m going to shock you again. For much, much longer. There is nothing you can do to change that. Do you still want to address me properly?”

Thoughts flutter through my head like a panicked flock of birds. I don’t understand! Why hurt me after obeying? That makes no sense! I start to refuse, but a truth stops me. Saying ‘Yes’ only costs pride and saying ‘No’ will surely cost pain. Looking at it that way makes things very clear. I bury my pride and answer her question.

“Yes, but ... I don’t remember ... What do I call you?”

“Call me ‘Mistress.’”

Unable to tear my gaze away from her predatory eyes, I humiliate myself for her amusement. “Mistress.” I say, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

“Good girl.” Lisa says, and pats me on the head. “Do you know what ‘Mistress’ means?”

I shake my head.

“Mistress means owner. I’m your owner, and you are my property.”

Then she triggers the cattle prod.

Pain explodes between my legs. Sharp daggers of agony radiate out from its touch. Instinctively I try to curl into a ball, but the collar digging into my neck prevents the protective movement. Uselessly thrashing, desperately trying to escape the endless pain, I scream. She drinks in my agony. Without allowing even a moment of relief, she slides the prod up my twisting and jumping stomach, maintaining contact the entire time. By the time it circles a breast she is straddling me.