Chapter 3: Gentle Persuasion

The pirate ducked under the low doorway, the exit sealing behind her with a pneumatic hiss, Eriksen picking himself up and brushing himself off defiantly.

“Take your suit off,” she commanded.

“Make me,” he replied.

She seemed to shiver, not out of anger, but something else.

“I’d be delighted to...”

She strode across the room, covering it quickly on her long legs, her claws tearing at the padded carpeting on the floor. The whole room was beige, and everything was padded like it was a cell in a nuthouse. In the case of a sudden deceleration or a loss of gravity, the occupant’s injuries would be lessened if they were to slam against a surface. There was a similarly padded bed, a bedside table that protruded from the wall and could be stowed in a recess during superlight, and a locker for clothes and personal belongings. The space was so small that there was nowhere for him to flee, and so he planted himself on the spot, glaring at the alien as she approached him. She sank her hooked claws into the collar of his suit, tearing the yellow plastic apart like it was tissue paper, splitting the torso down the middle. She gripped him by the face and lifted him off the carpet, dragging the tattered garment down past his flailing legs and off, dropping him back to the floor when she was done. He felt exposed without the protection of the suit, clad in only a tank top and a pair of longjohns. He wasn’t accustomed to dressing for company when he lived alone on a freighter for months at a time.

“Eriksen,” she muttered, examining the name tag on the breast of the shredded pressure suit. “So that’s your name. Mine is Nazka, but you can call me Captain, or Alpha.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Eriksen shot back sarcastically, and she grinned at him.

“You know, I’m almost glad that you killed my crew and ruined my heist. I’m going to have so much fun breaking you in. It’s almost going to be worth the hit to my pocketbook.”

“You talk like it’s a done deal,” he replied, “but you’re not getting that door code. This is my freighter, and I’m going to take it to the fucking grave with me.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she sighed, hooking the zipper of her leather jacket in her curved claw and dragging it down to let her considerable bust spread the garment open. “I’m about to give you a lesson in respect. Borealans know when to submit, and they understand the chain of command, the value of strength. You humans need ... encouragement in order to see things clearly, but I believe that you can be taught proper behavior by someone with a firm hand. Just be glad that I’m an experienced captain, a younger Borealan would have had you bleeding and writhing on the deck at the first snide remark.”

Now Eriksen was getting worried, he didn’t know what she was babbling about. Just what was she going to do with him? She advanced towards him again, and he stepped backwards, feeling his calf hit the edge of the bed. Her long tail, covered in the same blonde fur that was on her hands and feet, coiled around his leg like a tentacle and pulled it out from under him. He fell on his back, and Nazka stepped over him, turning and taking a seat on the bed. It sagged under her weight, scarcely bigger than a chair by her standards, and she reached down to grip his hair in her thick fingers. He winced as she turned him to face her, Eriksen scrambling to his knees as she tugged at his scalp. She released him, and he started to rise to his feet, but a firm hand on his head kept him down.

“No, on your knees, cur. I’m going to teach you how to behave like a Borealan.”

She used her sharp claws to cut the straps on his tank top, and it fell away to leave his chest bare, her yellow eyes playing over his body. He was in shape by human standards, he had to be. If he didn’t keep up his exercise routine while in deep space the sedentary lifestyle would cut thirty years off his lifespan. She seemed to like what she saw, wetting her lips as she parted her massive thighs. Realizing what was happening, Eriksen prepared for a fight, struggling against the hand that still gripped a fistful of his unkempt hair. She tied her flexible tail around his wrists and bound them behind his back, the damned thing was like an appendage in its own right.

“If you think I’m gonna-”

She pulled her massive handgun from its holster and spun it on her finger, releasing his hair from her grasp and pressing the cold barrel against the top of his head, Eriksen freezing in place.

“Oh, you are, believe me. Because if you don’t, my revolver is going to turn your head into a cloud of red mist.”

“You threaten me with torture, and you think killing me outright is going to scare me into submission?”

He heard the click of the hammer, glancing up to see her peering down at him with a smirk on her face.

“I suppose not, but it really gets me going, so hurry up before I have to find more creative ways to motivate you.”

He leaned a little closer, his heart starting to race as the reality of his situation set in. She smelled of leather, she was clad from head to toe in it, and there was a new scent that he didn’t recognize. It was feminine, musky, the scent of her body no doubt. It was oddly alluring. Life on a freighter didn’t exactly afford him many opportunities for romance. He hadn’t been with a woman in ... damn, how long had it been now?

“The sooner you submit to me, the sooner you can start enjoying this,” she said. “Who knows, if you’re a good lay maybe I’ll take you back to the Black Claw with me. How do you feel about becoming a cabin boy?”

“I’d rather eat a bullet,” he spat.

“I think you’ll change your mind when you’ve gotten to know me better,” she chuckled. “I’ve heard rumors that humans give great head, so don’t disappoint me.”

She unfastened a large belt that was tight around her wide hips, pulling down another zipper on her crotch, then she rose from the bed for a moment to pull her brown leather pants down around her ankles. She fell back down heavily, the bed frame creaking its displeasure, the alien exposing her white panties to him. They were already sodden. She really wasn’t lying, this did turn her on. Just what kind of psychopath was she? Were these aliens all like this?

Eriksen felt an involuntary twinge beneath his longjohns as he traced the contours of her body with his eyes. He had heard that the Borealans were tough, but he had expected some kind of natural defenses like those of the reptilian Krell. That wasn’t the case, however. Nazka looked remarkably human beneath her clothing, she had no armored exoskeleton or defensive scales, she was just incredibly ... developed. Her wide hips tapered into an hourglass waist, her leather clothing so tight that it creaked when she moved, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her thighs were as thick and as round as tree trunks, such that he doubted his fingers would meet on the other side was he to wrap his arms around one. Muscles like suspension cables bulged from beneath her burnished skin, so dark that it was almost black, shining with a layer of sweat that only served to further accentuate her anatomy in the cabin’s dim light. She caught his expression, lifting the bloodstained shirt that she wore beneath her leather jacket to expose her belly to him, tight and firm with twin rows of abdominal muscles that were as chiseled as those of a Greek statue. It was a body that would put Olympians to shame.

She was covered in pink scars too. They contrasted against her dusky skin, they seemed to be all over her. There was one that crossed her belly as if something had once tried to gut her, there was one on her hip, and a long one that ran across her six-pack to name but a few. He watched a bead of sweat follow the deep channel that her abs cut in her skin as it trickled towards her navel, swallowing hard, trying not to show her how impressed he was.

“See somethin’ you like?” Nazka teased, her tail tightening around his wrists like a rope. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be intimately familiar with every inch of me before I’m done with you. Now get to it.”

She hooked her fingers around the back of his head, pulling him between her legs, his cheek brushing against her inner thigh. She was as smooth as glass, her skin damp with sweat that made it slippery to the touch. She was surprisingly soft despite how muscular she was. He felt his heart skip in his chest, his face reddening as she pulled her panties aside to expose her loins, glistening and pink. She spread her thick lips with her fingers, and a strand of her excitement dripped free.

His heart hammered in his chest, and it wasn’t because of the gun barrel that was pressing against his head. He felt almost drunk as he watched her rosy flesh leak in anticipation. Get it together Eriksen, he thought to himself, don’t give this bitch the satisfaction.

She forced his face deeper, and his lips met hers, already slick with her juices and fever-hot. She knocked him gently on the top of his head with the handgun’s barrel, her way of encouraging him.

“Come on Eriksen, don’t hold out on me.”

Reluctantly, he dragged his tongue across her vulva, feeling the massive alien’s powerful thighs close around his head and an appreciative shiver roll up her spine. She froze for a moment, a gasp escaping her throat, then he felt her muscles relax again.

“Oh yeah ... this is gonna work out just fine,” she mumbled. “Keep it up.”

He ran the tip of his tongue over her subtle creases and folds, tracing the contours of her sex as her viscous excitement coated his lips and ran down his chin to hang in strands. Everything about her was larger and more exaggerated than anything that he was used to. He tasted the sweat on her dark skin, her sour juices, her feminine scents scratching at the back of his brain like a dog shut out in the rain. He wasn’t going to let her in, his will was stronger than this. He had half a mind to bite her sensitive anatomy, but that would surely result in her hand cannon going off prematurely.

She seemed unusually taken with his efforts. He knew his way around a woman, but she was reacting like he was far better at this than he knew himself to be. Tremors of pleasure made her steely thighs tremble around his cheeks as he sucked and licked. She had mentioned something about humans giving good head, perhaps there was some anatomical difference between them that he didn’t know about. In any case, he was driving her to distraction, her heavy bust rising and falling with her labored breathing under the bloody shirt that she wore.

She put her gun down beside her on the bed and started to remove her jacket, leaving Eriksen to his own devices as she shrugged the garment off. He looked up over her mound, a tuft of blonde pubic hair that was as soft and as silky as cat fur tickling his nose. His heart lurched in his chest as he got a front-row view of her bulging stomach muscles as they twisted and flexed, the veneer of sudor that coated her polished skin catching the light to accentuate them. Nazka pulled her shirt over her head, and let two breasts the size of watermelons fall heavily as their support was removed. How could she carry those damned things around with her? Each one was larger than his head and must have weighed as much as a fully loaded UNN rucksack. Eriksen watched from below as they settled, bouncing enticingly, drawing his gaze as he continued his mouthing.

She reached up with the black claws on her index finger and thumb, and he noticed that there was blood on her chest, darker than that of a human and hard to see on her ebony skin. Nazka winced, baring her carnivore teeth as she dug into her own flesh, spilling fresh blood as she appeared to dig for something with her talons. He stopped in shock, pulling back from her loins, linked to his lips by a rope of stringy nectar.

She pulled her hand away from her chest, her straw-colored fur now stained crimson, and she flicked something across the room. It hit the door with a metallic clang, Eriksen turning his head in an attempt to see what it was. He felt her claws on his scalp as she forced him back down, his face buried between her legs once more.

“Gotta dig out the bullets you put in me before I heal over them, and any fabric they took along for the ride, or I might get an infection. What are these, nine-millimeter? These were never gonna kill me, didn’t even penetrate my muscle layer. Your grouping is a joke by the way.”

Impossible, he had unloaded his gun into her at point blank range and yet she was treating them like little more than bee stings. Just how tough were these aliens? What did it take to put one down? He continued his work, lapping at her hot flesh as she dug out another bullet, dropping it to the floor and mopping at the blood with her now ruined shirt.

“Why are you doing that now?” Eriksen asked, his question muffled by her loins. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yeah, it hurts, but a little pain with your sex is like seasoning on your meat. Maybe you like it plain and tasteless, but I like it hot. I want it to burn all the way down. Reminds me that I’m alive.”

She flicked another bullet at the door, and it made a sound like spit landing in a spittoon from an old cowboy movie.

“You’re insane,” Eriksen replied, “is your whole race this crazy or is it just you?”

She forced his face back down again, taking pleasure in watching him struggle, her thick juices wetting his burning cheeks as he reluctantly resumed his work. Despite the circumstances, his body was betraying him to her, an erection that he could have used to hammer steel straining at his underwear. Don’t stick your dick in crazy, that was a wise old adage, but it was starting to look like he wouldn’t have a choice. What scared him more was that he was starting to think that he might enjoy it.

“Let me tell you something about Borealans, boy, we rule through strength.” She shivered happily as he circled her twitching opening with his tongue, then carried on. “Like oil in water, the fittest and most aggressive rise to the top. They feel an urge to climb just as a bubble of air at the bottom of a drink does. They can’t help their nature, and so they fight, and every fight that they win elevates their position in the pack.”

Eriksen had been right about their hierarchy then, that was why her pack had been so afraid of her. She had probably kicked each of their asses in turn to get to the top rung of the ladder.

“But that’s also how we breed. You see, when someone challenges us or steps out of line, it gets our blood flowing. When there’s a fight, it gets us going somethin’ fierce, hot and ready like you wouldn’t believe. The adrenaline, the emotion, the pain and excitement. When all’s done there’s a winner and a loser, and they’re both raring to go, so the victor fucks their new subordinate into the ground and ensures that only the best genes are passed on.”

“Jesus, don’t you get hurt?”

“Yeah but that’s all part of the fun, and we don’t go down easy like you humans. These bullet wounds will be healed by tomorrow, and I’ve had far worse than that. You can see the scars on my body, each one is either a lesson learned, or a battle won. See the one across my belly?”

She let him come up to get a look at it, then pushed his head back down with her giant hand, smirking at him.

“That was my old Alpha, he used to cut me up pretty good when I stepped out of line. Sometimes I’d shirk my duties just to get a rise out of him. I miss the way he’d slam me up against the bulkhead and fuck me until I was sore. He became a real whelp when I finally took him down, but you humans, you’re different. By this point, a Borealan would be doing anything I asked of him. It’s fun for a while to make a defeated foe your personal plaything, but it gets boring fast. You though, you’re still fighting me, still talking shit.”

She gripped a handful of his hair and tugged him up, his face wet with her emission, and grinned down at him as he caught his breath.

“I hope you can hold out as long as you claim, I hope you fight me tooth and nail the whole way. If you were a Borealan, I’d use my claws to teach you some manners, but a human wouldn’t survive that. It keeps the tension going, keeps me angry. I should have done this a long time ago.”