Chapter 9: Restraint

“I can’t believe you wanted to watch Gone with the Wind,” McGregor complained, Zhari shushing him as she leaned forward in her seat. She was transfixed, watching the two leads as they argued. Apparently she had found her preferred genre; romance.

Rather than forcing her to wear gloves, he had given Zhari her own oversized bucket of popcorn this time, and she was currently engaged in licking it clean of butter with her long tongue. There was a final swell of music as the movie came to a conclusion, the ending title crawl beginning to roll past.

“If she wanted him so badly,” Zhari began, “why didn’t she just take him? Put him on his back, he’d stop protesting before long.”

“That’s not how humans do things,” McGregor sputtered, choking on his drink as he began to laugh at the thought of it.

“What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “It’s just the idea of Scarlett sexually assaulting Rett in one of her frilly gowns, it’s absurd.”

“Well maybe humans should do things that way,” she shot back, crossing her arms and leaning back into the couch. “Nobody got what they wanted in the end. He might have decided to stay if she had taken the initiative.”

“I think period dramas might be lost on you,” McGregor chuckled.

“You humans create so many problems that need not exist. You make simple things complicated, and you make easy things hard. It’s like you self-sabotage without even realizing it. Two people who like each other should just fuck, that’s all there is to it. But you introduce all these factors that make it more complicated, class and race and social standing. You tiptoe about, never saying what you’re really feeling, never communicating.”

“Hang on,” McGregor said, “social standing plays a huge role in Borealan courting.”

“That’s not the same. Social status doesn’t mean that you can’t be with someone. Anyone can be with anyone if they’re strong enough to take them. But with humans, the social castes can never mingle.”

“To be fair, things are different now,” McGregor explained. “A lot of these movies are very old, and human society has changed a lot since they were made.”

“I still see it now,” she protested, “the officers are off at their own tables in the recreation center while the ground pounders keep to themselves. The pilots have their own clique, the engineers don’t play pool with the Marines. It’s like the different groups are afraid of mixing.”

“I don’t think that a pilot is going to overlook a girl that he likes because she’s an engineer. You’re a shock trooper and I’m a shuttle pilot, yet we’re together.”

“Well, that’s my point,” she stammered. “You’re very ... direct. You behave more like my people than your own at times.”

“I don’t know if that’s true, I’m just learning to understand how you think, and what you expect of me.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job so far.”

It was a rare compliment from the usually reserved alien, and it put a smile on his face. She seemed embarrassed, as if she had slipped up, and immediately changed the subject.

“So, what are we doing next?”

“It’s pretty late now,” he replied, “we probably have time to watch another movie or play another game if you don’t mind getting up late tomorrow. Not that we have anything to get up for. Might be nice to have a lie-in actually.”

“That’ll be a nice change,” Zhari said, staring into space. “Not having to get up at oh-five hundred sharp for duty. You know, back on the homeworld we slept quite a lot, much more than we do here. Maybe the higher gravity put more strain on us, made us more tired. It never gets cold on the station either, the temperature is always constant. It kind of messes with my internal clock.”

“Isn’t Borealis a sweltering desert?”

“For most of the time, yes. But twice a month, the secondary star eclipses the primary for a couple of days. The temperatures plummet, because the secondary is a lot cooler than the primary, and everyone sleeps through it. We gorge ourselves the night before the eclipse, and then we hibernate until it gets warm again.”

“Interesting ... and do you respond to cold temperatures that way in general, or is it more of an internal clock thing?”

“When it gets too cold, we get tired,” she replied. “In fact, it’s a very useful parenting technique. If you have a kitten that gets excited before bed, or won’t go to sleep, just shut them in a meat locker for a few minutes. It slows them right down.”

McGregor laughed at the mental image of a struggling kitten being lifted by the scruff of its neck and thrown into a walk-in freezer.

“Does every home on Borealis have a meat locker?”

“Yes, where else would they store the meat?”

“You’ve got me there. So, what next?”

He watched her consider, noticing that she was pressing her thighs together. Bed usually meant sex, that was the way things usually ended up. Borealans had a voracious appetite for sex that was matched only by their love of food, and scarcely a day went by that she and McGregor didn’t make love at least once or twice. When neither one of them was deployed at least. To her, asking for sex would be presumptuous, and so he decided to make the decision for her.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Her face lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. She rose from her seat, straightening her skirt, and waited eagerly for him to follow behind her.

“Go on ahead,” he said, “and keep your clothes on. I have some more ... items, that I need to get from the box.”

Her face reddened at the prospect, and she lingered there for a moment before scurrying off towards the sliding door that led to the apartment’s bedroom. She vanished into the room, and McGregor hopped to his feet, sauntering over to the cardboard box that was still sitting on the kitchen counter.

Zhari closed the bedroom door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she composed herself. She could hear her heart pumping in her ears, and she was feeling that fluttering sensation in her belly again. What would McGregor pull from that mysterious box next? What other maddening toys and implements of pleasure had his people invented?

As much as she enjoyed the toys and costumes, she was starting to long for him. She missed the feeling of his warmth inside her. She hoped that he would make love to her tonight, fill her with his seed as he usually did, though she wouldn’t mind if he kept the vibrator in...

What should she do before he arrived? He had told her to keep the clothing on, should she make an attempt to look ‘sexy’ for him? The more she saw how he responded to the clothing, the more she began to understand what about it appealed to him. Should she spread her legs on the bed, an invitation for him to mount her when he opened the door? No, the purpose of the clothes was to conceal, not to reveal. Its design was strategic, showing choice parts of her body, but covering others.

She looked herself over, trying to determine what McGregor must be most attracted to. He had chosen the garments after all, had them specially made, and so the result must in some way reflect his tastes. Her midriff was showing, exposing her abdominal muscles. She knew how much he liked those. He would lick them, rub his face on them when they made love, take any opportunity to rest his head on her belly when they were relaxing together.

Her skirt was hopelessly short, exposing her long legs, accentuated by the bands of lace that rested high on her thighs. He liked those too, always squeezing and touching them, kissing them when he went down on her.

There was also her chest, the frilled top cut low to expose her cleavage. They were at head-height to the little human when they made love, and he was fond of burying his face between them.

Humans seemed more ... particular than Borealans. They had varied tastes, and they tended to fixate on certain body parts. When her kind made love the focus was only on a fast, brutal copulation. Humans took their time, it took some getting used to, but given the choice she would go with a human every time.

She came to a decision, riding up her skirt a little on her thighs and shifting her breasts in their brassiere so that they were more prominent, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing her legs. When he came through the door he would get an eyeful of thigh and cleavage, and hopefully that would incite him to jump her bones.

Zhari heard his footsteps approaching, pressing her upper arms together to puff out her breasts a little more, making herself as desirable as possible as the door slid open and McGregor stepped inside. He was holding something long in his hand, and something else was bundled in his arms.

She felt his eyes play over her body, drinking down every curve and bulge. She could smell the arousal on him. He walked over to a dresser by the wall, and deposited the items on top of it, Zhari’s ears twitching as she watched him eagerly.

“Are you coming to bed?” She asked, waiting for his reply with bated breath.

“Yes, but I have some more surprises for you first. Lie back on the mattress.”

She hesitated for a moment, wondering what he was going to do with her, then her submissive instincts kicked in and she lay prone on the Borealan-sized bed. The frame was built from stainless steel rather than wood, heavily reinforced, not only to handle the extra weight but no doubt to withstand any coupling that might occur during their stay. The humans had made an effort, but Zhari could tell that it wasn’t strong enough. Two Borealans going at it in earnest would probably trash the entire bedroom. They should have built it from chalky stone, so that one could buy their claws in it while being taken from behind.

She was distracted from her memories of past encounters as McGregor walked up to the bedside.

“Put your hands above your head.”

She did as he asked, raising her arms, and she watched as he brandished a pair of fluffy cuffs. He secured them tightly around her wrists, their inner surface padded with plush material for comfort. They were linked to a flimsy chain, which he wrapped around the metal bars that made up the headboard, tugging them tight as he strapped her down.

She watched curiously as he did the same with her ankles, securing padded cuffs around them and pulling the chains taut as he tied them to the bottom of the bed. She might have been alarmed, was it not for the fact that she could easily have broken free if she so desired. The chains scarcely seemed sturdy enough to hold a human, let alone a fully grown Borealan.

“Is this more ‘human stuff’?” Zhari asked, perplexed.

“Submissive humans are into this, I figure maybe you will be too. I realize that you can probably snap these chains like they’re made of plastic, but humor me.”

“What’s it supposed to do?”

“Heighten your sensitivity, make you feel vulnerable, put me in control.”

“But you’re my Alpha, you’re always in control.”

Confident that her bonds were as secure as he could make them, he stepped back, looking her over. It did make her feel a little vulnerable, unable to protect herself, and she flinched as he reached down to brush his fingers lightly across her belly.

“Damn it,” he grumbled, “I might have gone a little overboard on the maid costume. You look so fucking good that it’s hard to keep my hands off you sometimes...”

“You’re my Alpha,” she insisted, “you need never keep your hands off me.”

She sensed a change in the human, a new aggression rising inside him, and she gasped as he reached down to tear her brassiere open. The insubstantial fabric seemed to be designed to come apart, and her breasts burst forth from their confines, the silken garment falling away as they wobbled gently.

McGregor wasted no time, delving his hands into their yielding meat and mauling them, her spine arching off the bed sheets as he kneaded and squeezed. His fingers sank deep into her delicate fat, taking cruel handfuls and pinching her sensitive nipples, watching lecherously as her massive form bucked and writhed under his touch. He always seemed transfixed by her bust, the soft globes were larger than the human’s head, larger than any possessed by females of his own species. She had no doubt that they were a symbol of fertility among the humans as much as they were in her own culture.

He leaned over the bed, squeezing her flesh so that it spread between his fingers, and plunged one of her erect nipples into his mouth. She felt his smooth tongue lash it, trapping it between his lip and his teeth as he tweaked and teased, her furry toes curling.

The little human could be so aggressive when he wanted to be, so commanding. Something about such a physically inferior creature treating her like this made her loins ache. She had fought so hard to suppress her attraction to him when they had been stranded together on EE-4. When her denial had come to a head, her desire had exploded, and she had come up with all manner of excuses to justify having her fill of him. She would have fucked him ragged on the floor of that cave in order to satisfy what she thought to be a sick xenophilia at the time. She would have left her mark on every inch of his skin, made him beg for mercy in the same breath that he pleaded for his ordeal to continue. He had come out on top however, and now she was the one on her back, a slave to his alien whims.

He always knew just what to say, just where to touch her. He could bring her to her knees with little more than a salacious whisper or a yank of her tail. He reveled in it, and perhaps that was why he was so similar to an Alpha, and why she responded to him in the way that she did.

Her human lover released her nipple from his mouth, watching her boob bounce as it settled, and then his hands began to roam lower. She lurched and gasped as he brushed her ribs with the back of his hand, tracing the channels that her firm abdominal muscles cut in her skin as he slid his fingers across her belly, his digits roaming beneath the waistband of her skirt.

She strained against her bonds, her meaty thighs snapping together as his clawless fingers slid beneath the damp lace of her panties, seeking out the hard nub of her clitoris between her swollen lips. Her juices were already flowing, making his fingers slippery as he probed, finally locating his target and rubbing slowly in the way that he knew would drive her crazy.

She rose from the mattress, baring her sharp teeth and loosing a rumbling growl, McGregor sliding a finger inside her as she struggled. There was something to be said for being restrained, it really was making her more sensitive to his touch, as if the idea that she couldn’t protect herself was making her more receptive.

He teased her for a minute or two, and then released her, Zhari gasping as she sank back into the sheets. Was he going to make love to her like this? The prospect was exciting. He watched as a string of her excitement clung to his finger, breaking to fall to the bed, and then he turned away to retrieve something from on top of the dresser.

When he returned to her side, he was holding some kind of blue rod. It was about as long and as thick as his forearm, smooth and rounded, with a shovel-shaped tip.

“What’s that?” She asked, furrowing her brow as he approached. It was a little floppy, as if it was made from a flexible material like rubber or silicone.

“This,” he replied, “is a life-sized replica of a Krell’s dick.”

“What!? How? Why?”

“I figured that since you get off on xenophilia, I’d find you a suitable toy so that you can explore your fetish in a safe environment.”

“I-I do not!” She protested. “Why would they make something like that!?”

He held it up so that she could see it better. It was enormous, bigger than both that of a human and a Borealan. The shaft was smooth and featureless, with no veins or bumps, and the glans was flared widely. The whole assembly was anchored to a round base, and from the base hung a transparent tube that trailed out of sight.

She couldn’t wrap her head around why the humans would make something like this, or how they even knew the exact dimensions of a Krell’s reproductive organ. She realized that her face was practically on fire, her cheeks burning bright red and her mouth drying up as she looked the brutish member over. He let it rest on her belly, and she felt its weight as it flopped down onto her stomach, it was enormous and hefty.

“I had to go out of my way to find this,” McGregor continued, “turns out there’s an adult toy company that makes these things. They had all kinds of models, but this was the one I went with. You’ve been with Borealans already, and you know what a Krell is.”

Her muscles flexed beneath it as he dragged it slowly down towards her skirt, her skin tingling as it neared her loins.

“Look what it can do,” he announced, lifting the other end of the clear tube. There was a large syringe on the other end, and Zhari thought that it was opaque at first, before realizing that it was full of milky liquid.

“Is that...”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not real. It is very realistic however. You know, Krell semen is especially thick and potent, and they ejaculate in quantities that will probably surprise even a Borealan.”

He pressed the top of the syringe in with his thumb, and after a moment Zhari felt something warm on her belly, looking down to see a blob of gooey liquid oozing from the tip of the replica penis. It looked ... felt ... just like the real thing. She watched it slide down her hip, falling to the bed sheets beside her, and she realized that her heart was hammering in her chest.

“It’s safe to use. I could fill you to the brim with no ill effects, and I took the liberty of warming it up before we got started.”

He must have planned this days, weeks in advance, the wily little deviant. Why did she want it so badly? Was McGregor right? Was she an incorrigible xenophile? The taboo of mating with an alien set her loins on fire, she felt drunk when she made love to her human partner. His body was strange and alien, feeling his oddly shaped member pulsing inside her filled her with a kind of giddy excitement. What would other Borealans think if they could see her in that state? Defeated and writhing beneath an inferior creature, her toes curling as he pulled her tail and manhandled her.

Now she was about to feel a Krell’s member inside her, its strange, alien contours rubbing against her most intimate and private depths. Sullying her, filling her with ... whatever that fluid was made from.

McGregor would have his fill of her first however, and she squirmed as his hands ran across her body. He left not an inch of her burnished skin untouched, knowing where she was most sensitive and taking full advantage of her compromised position. He slid his fingers lightly across her belly, grasping her in inner thighs, skirting her aching loins as her juices soaked her panties.

She writhed and squirmed, bound more by his will than by the flimsy chains. He had commanded her not to break them, and so they might as well have been made from welded steel for all the good it would do her.

He traced the wide curve of her hip, sweat making her skin slippery and shiny in the low light, his fingers delving into her layer of soft fat as he followed the contours of her muscles. Unlike her own kind, his clawless fingers left no marks on her, he didn’t scratch or cut. His hands were small and as naked as the rest of his body, his dexterous fingers able to reach ... everywhere...

He clambered up onto the bed, kneeling between her parted thighs with the heavy toy in one hand, a nd flipped up her skirt to expose her. He took a moment to admire her underwear, her porcelain skin visible beneath the mesh of black lace, the thin fabric sticking to her flushed lips. He hooked a finger around her lingerie to pull it aside, Zhari wriggling as he brushed her tender lips.

She fucked the air desperately as he pushed his fingers between her dripping labia, stroking her as she rolled her hips, her beleaguered body desperate for more stimulation. She expected him to stop after a moment, but he just kept going, his fingers slick with her honeyed emissions as he rubbed furiously. Her breathing became ragged, her plump butt rising from the sheets as she thrust, her steely thighs trembling as they trapped his arm in a vice grip.

He leaned closer and planted a lingering kiss on her belly, not an inch above the black silk of her underwear, the contact of his tongue as it flicked her skin sending a jolt of pleasure crawling up her spine.

He was driving her crazy, was he going to get her off this way?

He let the replica Krell member flop heavily onto her belly, still leaking a trickle of white fluid onto her pale skin as he made use of both hands, sliding a finger inside her twitching tunnel. Damn it, she was so aroused already, she could feel an orgasm welling deep in her body like a dam that was about to burst. Just when she thought that he might finish her, he pulled back, wiping his sodden hands on the sheets as he watched her tremble and croon.

“What are you doing?” She mumbled, scarcely able to formulate a sentence as warm pleasure bathed her in its glow.

Without answering, he trapped the cable of her vibrating toy between his thumb and forefinger, slowly dragging it out of her. Her muscles clenched around it reflexively, its textured, silicone surface scraping against her sensitive walls and making her head spin. It appeared that McGregor had not expected so much resistance, having to tug harder as the object slowly made its way out of her, finally falling to the mattress along with a fat strand of her excitement.

“I want to go down on you,” he muttered, her heart skipping at the prospect. “But I don’t want you coming too soon. We have a long night ahead of us.”

He brought his lips down towards her loins, and she felt his warm breath on her swollen sex, McGregor planting a gentle kiss that sent a tremor rolling through her body. He reached up and retrieved the replica Krell organ, sliding it down her belly to leave a trail of milky fluid. Zhari shivered with anticipation as he rubbed the flexible material against her vulva, wetting it with her slimy emissions as he pressed it between her pink lips.

It was large, really large. She wasn’t even sure that something that big would fit inside her.

She had thought about it before of course, maybe even fantasized about it once or twice before she had been inducted into McGregor’s pack. The Krell were enormous creatures, even larger and stronger than the toughest Borealan warrior. Being pressed beneath one as it rutted would feel amazing. Having its large, reptilian organ scrape against her insides as it gripped her roughly with its many fingered hands would have been an experience like no other.

Unfortunately the creatures were completely harmless. They wouldn’t even swat a fly that landed on their snout, never mind respond to a challenge in the way that would excite a Borealan. If she ever managed to anger one to the point that it reacted, it would probably just squash her flat, rather than give her the intense sex that she wanted. Completely boring.

Oh God, was McGregor right? Maybe she really was a xenophile. The idea filled her with an odd brand of excitement, guilty and lurid.

“Tell me how it feels,” he said, pressing the flared head against her opening. It felt even bigger now that it was touching her, her imagination inflating its size. It didn’t feel like it would fit, McGregor slowly applying more and more pressure as he struggled to push it inside her. Maybe this was why he had teased her so, gotten her so wet, so that they might stand a chance of using this shameful toy.

It felt so strange, cool against her lips, the material that it was made from as soft as flesh and oddly flexible. It contrasted with the heat that radiated from her, she was on fire, already beginning to push back in a desperate bid to get it inside her.

There was a moment of resistance, and then the shovel-shaped head of the alien penis slid inside her, spreading her wide open. Her passage contracted reflexively, attempting to close around it, but its odd shape dug into her silky flesh and seared her nerves with stabbing pleasure. She opened her mouth in a silent wail, pulling the chains taut as she writhed, every tiny movement making the phallus rub and grind against her. It was digging into her most sensitive spots simply by virtue of its shape.

“You doing ok?” McGregor asked, looking up over her mound as she panted and writhed.

“I-I like it, don’t stop!”

“You’re so big, how are you this tight?” He gumbled.

He pushed it deeper with some effort, splaying her apart, her thighs trembling around his shoulders as she squeezed him. He managed to get the flared head all the way inside, her passage closing around it and pressing down on the smooth shaft that followed after. Now that he was deep enough he pulled back, the shovel-like head scraping against her velvet insides, her flowing juices doing little to ease its passage.

She loosed a low mewl, the bed frame shaking as she bucked, her spine arching and her toes curling as every nerve that the monstrous organ grazed lit up like a supernova. It was almost unbearable, so intense that it bordered on pain, scouring her delicate insides to leave her aching and wanting.

The flared glans reached her opening, and sensing that she was getting into the swing of things, McGregor forced it back inside. His thrust was cruel and deep, the azure shaft vanishing into her body, half of the immense member engulfed by her spasming loins.

She wanted so desperately to reach down a padded finger and rub herself to competition, a maddening thirst overtaking her, but as the chains clattered she was reminded that her Alpha had bound her. She could not disobey, if he willed her to suffer then she must suffer, and delight in her obedience.

“Don’t break those chains,” he warned, twisting the replica organ inside of her and making her croon as harsh pleasure tore through her. She felt like her legs were melting, her entire lower body going numb save for the feeling of the object that was inside her.

He withdrew again, watching her large body convulse, fresh sweat making her smooth skin shimmer as she moved.

This time he forced it as deep as it would go, the round base slamming against her loins with a wet splash, the monstrous organ forcing its way into her reaches. It touched places that no male should have been able to reach, her eyes bulging and her tongue lolling from her mouth as she took in a sharp breath, releasing it as a pained moan.

She flinched as McGregor kissed her thigh, his tongue leaving his mouth for a moment to taste the salt on her skin, holding the toy as it filled her to capacity. Just when she was getting accustomed to the sensation of having the brutish thing inside her, he pulled it back out again, slow and teasing as if he was relishing her turmoil.

“How does it feel?”

“B-Big,” she stammered, the words catching in her throat as he forced the dildo back inside her again. It was such an odd blend of pleasure and discomfort, keeping her on edge, but too uncomfortable to let her come.

“Do you like having this strange, alien organ inside you? Can you feel its shape?”

She declined to answer, her face beet red as she struggled to contain her lust.

“It’s scandalous, so improper,” he continued. “What would the other Borealans say if they could see you like this, bound and subdued, letting all manner of aliens have their way with you?”

“Quiet,” she muttered, trying in vain to conceal her arousal and her embarrassment.

“Oh, is that insubordination I hear? Are you challenging your Alpha?”

He thrust the Krell organ deep into her tender passage once more, and she yelped, her thighs quivering.

“No, I’m ... I just-”

He reached a hand beneath her and gripped the base of her tail, Zhari freezing like a statue.

“I just want to hear you say it.”

“S-Say what?”

“Don’t play coy. I want to hear you say that you’re a hopeless xenophile, that you love aliens, and that even the idea of having this weird phallus inside you makes you gush.”

“That’s not true!” Zhari protested, gasping as he twisted the toy. She could feel its flared head rubbing against the limits of her tunnel, the textured base pressing into her labia from the outside.

“Be a good girl, Zhari.”

She felt that odd fluttering in her belly again, it happened whenever he said those words, her loins contracting around the toy and her heart thumping in her chest.

He pressed his face between her thighs and dragged his tongue across her glistening vulva, her muscles seizing as the slick, smooth organ glanced her swollen clitoris. Her brain fizzled with the realization that he could use his tongue on her while the massive toy was buried inside her, she would surely lose her mind if he did that.

“Do you like that?”

“Y-Yes...”

“Do you want more?”

“Please...”

“Then you have to admit that you like aliens.”

She felt like she was about to explode, an irresistible pressure building inside her that demanded release, her cheeks burning and her passage rippling around the smooth shaft as she finally gave in.