A sound nearby makes me flinch. There’s something growling and heavy coming closer. I can hear sounds of a struggle from outside where it has become all too silent.
“Aspel?”
“I’m here,” I call out softly.
“Good.”
Isu returns to the cave dragging the not entirely dead corpse of a monster. It is tooth, claw, wing, and rage. Covered in scales and with a wide mouth filled with teeth. I recoil in horror as he pulls a knife from the belt at his waist and pushes it through the throat of the thing, removing the head with two swift cuts. It goes limp, leaking black blood into the grit-ridden floor, its wings splayed out in freakish disarray.
I curl up into myself to try to hide from the blood and the death of the small monster, which is still twitching on the ground in front of me as Isu starts hacking it into pieces. Not pieces. Parts.
He uses the wings to create a small tent-like arrangement, then gathers some black greasy rocks from deeper in the cave beneath them. That finger snap trick makes them burst into fiery life, shedding heat and warmth immediately. I didn’t even realize I was cold.
Then he begins to cook the animal, taking the flesh and bones, using the bones as racks and handles on which to lay the meat that was once part of its living being. The smell of cooking is familiar. It suddenly smells like… food.
This brutal ritual, which I had been assuming was some kind of lesson or punishment, is him preparing a meal. So this is the purpose of parts. They are to be consumed.
He uses the scaled flesh of the belly of the best as a plate for it, handing a small chunk to me. “Eat slowly,” he says. “This may be hard for you to digest.”
I am hesitant, but I am also hungry. The smell makes my stomach growl and my mouth water, so I pick the meat up and move it to my mouth. To my surprise, it melts against my tongue with a delicious taste.
“Oh, my…” I moan. “This tastes so good. How does such an ugly creature have such an incredible taste?”
And why am I so immediately comfortable with consuming it? Shouldn’t I be revolted? I know what parts are. I know there are aliens somewhere in this big, dark universe of endless planets who are consuming the flesh of my kind the way I am consuming this one.
“Is this what the universe is? Things eating other things forever?”
Isu looks at me with his dark eyes and his long fangs, and snorts. “I suppose.”
I keep eating, because that’s what my instincts and hunger tell me to do. I am more of an animal than ever, now that I am free of the farm. I have seen more brutality, experienced more pain, I have consumed and I worry that I may still be consumed myself, either by the leviathan wyrm, or by something else that considers me tasty.
“This animal,” I say, gesturing to the beast that lies in some remaining form on the ground. “What is it?”
“A smaller version of the large wyrm. Different species. Similar makeup. These beasts are capable of tunneling through animal flesh the way the big wyrm tunnels through the world.”
I almost choke. “The wyrm tunnels through the world?”
“These tunnels and burrows were made by the wyrm itself,” he explains. “As it grew through each of its stages, it ate tunnels and burrowed into the earth, all the way to the very core where the rock is liquid and all is flame. That is why the earth shakes sometimes.”
“So…” I swallow. “So the thing we saw, that is… eating this planet?”
“By slow degrees, yes,” Isu says.
“And what happens when it eats it all?”
“The wyrm has been eating for a very long time. It may eat for thousands of years before the planet is digested.”
“So… you don’t know?”
“Eat your food,” he says grimly. I can tell he is still angry at me for leaving his nice safe burrow, but what is the point when the world is being consumed anyway? Why pretend to be safe when at any moment a massive, scaled, tooth-ridden beast might swallow you whole?
I finish what he gave me and I sit in silence. I am guessing he will take me back to the burrow and punish me there. I have avoided the worst of Isu’s wrath because I have mostly been obedient. But I am obedient no longer. I cannot even pretend that it was a mistake that led me to leave the burrow. It was nothing but pure defiance, and we both know it.
“Bend over,” he growls when we are done eating. “Spread your cheeks.”
We have done many things before. He has taken my mouth, and he has made ample use of my sex. Now he seems to have another goal. I do as I am told, knowing that it will be all the worse for me if I seek to defy him.
He watches me with those deep dark eyes, and I feel flashes of pure embarrassment passing through me. I have been bad. I am being punished. I was punished sometimes on the farm, but there was never any charge to it. This is different. Here, I expose the most delicate parts of myself to the alien who has made himself my master.
He says very little, but I feel the heat of his finger dabbing against my anus. This is not the first time I have ever felt him touch me there. It is the first time I’ve felt him do it with disciplinary intensity.
“You were a very bad girl,” he lectures. “And now you’re going to pay the price.”
I hear him suck his finger, then press it to my bottom. The muscle there is tight, but he is more insistent than it is, and soon he is inside my most shameful hole, making slow, twisting motions with his hot digit. I don’t think this is meant to be physically punishing. He is holding back from hurting me. But I feel superheated waves of shame rushing over me, back and forth over my sweaty body as he makes use of only that particular hole.
“I’m sorry!” I moan the words over and over, every thrust bringing a new apology.
He pins me to the dusty ground, one big hand on the back of my neck, the other at my hips, hitching them up so he can slide deep inside my most shameful hole over and over again.
I would take his leather over this. He could slap me until my bottom burned hotter than the depths of the burrows where the rocks are liquid with heat. But he wants this instead. Somehow, he knows what this does to me; he understands my humanity, and how to exploit it.
“You need to learn to obey,” he growls, every thrust matched with a word.
Obeying him is not as easy as he thinks. I have my own instincts to obey. I have needs. Sunlight is one of them. Outside is another. I need to be able to roam, and though I regret running into whatever that thing was, I’m not sorry. At least, not any sorrier than he is making me.
“When we return to the burrow, you will not leave my sight,” he growls. “You will be chained in place and you will earn your freedom one act of obedience at a time, understand me?”
My response does not come quick enough. I have barely parted my lips to reply when his hand comes down on my bottom in a punishing slap, which turns what might have been an apology into a screech of pain.
“You must obey me, Aspel,” he growls. “I have told you this many times before, but for some reason you seem to be unable to grasp the concept. Sometimes the lesson must be harsher before it can be learned. So I will not limit myself to my finger in this tight dirty hole of yours. You will take all of me there.”
I whimper as he withdraws the finger and replaces it with the head of his cock. Bent over, my fingers holding the soft, pillowy cheeks of my bottom spread, I submit to his punishment.
It is not easy. It is not without pain. This is not a part of my body that was meant to be penetrated, and with every part of him sinking inside me, it tells me as much. There is ache and there is sting, there is shame and there is another reaction I do not quite understand.
“You’re wet,” he says bluntly. The tip of his cock is inside my ass, but his fingers go to my pussy and scoop the viscous fluid of my desire around the shaft of his dick, making it easier for him to slide deeper. I am now fully complicit in my own punishment, giving myself to him without reservation.
“Bad, bad little human,” he growls. “Vishnua slicksik makhrashi…”
I know I am in trouble when he lapses into his native tongue and slams deep inside my bottom with one rough thrust. I scream, but the sound of my cries is lost in the triumphant growling of my master who is ravaging me freely. The tight ring of muscle that once tried to keep him out now pleasures him, loosening just enough to allow his impossible thickness to penetrate me over and over with punishing thrusts accompanied by hard slaps to my submissively presented cheeks.
Master Isu uses me until he comes. He does not care for my pleasure, because this is punishment, but he cannot stop the tingling in my clit or the way my pussy drips with lust. I do not think I could ever be with him without being overwhelmed with arousal. He has become absolutely everything to me in a very short period of time. I am ashamed at having led us both into danger, and I accept my punishment, thrust by thrust until he cries out with alien release and floods my bowels with his heated seed.
“Get up,” he says, slapping my ass. There is no time for me to receive pleasure, or even pain.
“What now?” I know I shouldn’t ask the question, but I cannot help myself.
“I’m taking you back to the burrow,” he says. “And I’ll deal with you further there. You will learn to obey your master, Aspel, or you will not sit comfortably for a very long time.”
“What will you do to me?” I cannot imagine what he could do more than what he has already done. I am dripping with his cum, and not from the proper hole for such things. He has repurposed my ass for his pleasure, and I know there is no limit to what he might otherwise do.
Isu looks at me with eyes black as night and an expression as grim as the line to the parts factory. “I will make sure you never disobey me again.”
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