Her Alien Abductor: Galactic Concubine, Part 1

Ava Lore

Copyright 2012 Ava Lore

PubIt! Edition

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Her Alien Abductor:

Galactic Concubine

by Ava Lore

Part One

Levvi Morse hadn't even noticed the male Kurazi in the audience until he reached up and slid his fingers into the thin strap of her g-string.

...Of course, you didn't, did you? Even in her seedy undertown titty bar full of tired strippers and wage slave joes who were always a hundred percent human, a Kurazi could move unnoticed. That's what they were known for—blending in, even though their alien features would give them away the moment anyone noticed something peculiar enough to give them a second glance. It was some kind of latent mind control, designed to keep prey species docile, or so the official reports said. That they didn't specify which species were prey species—only dumb native cattle, or a more sinister definition—fueled the mystery surrounding them.

Almost no one had ever seen one, though, and certainly no aliens ever came into Cosmo's Cosmic Show and Bar.

Maybe that was why she was the only one who noticed him. Everyone else was fixated on her.  Scrabbling human fingers, some sweaty, some calloused, stuffed satiny bills against her skin, and one copped a feel of her ass, but she didn't even have the presence of mind to give the wandering hand a good stomp with her stilettos. She was too busy being shocked by the odd feeling of alien skin against her own.

She didn't know it was a Kurazi. She just knew it was an alien. She'd never touched an alien before, which was why she really noticed it. The bass of the music thundered in her chest, almost drowning out the hoots and catcalls around her, and the flashing lights had left her all but blinded, but she still turned and tried to see her queer alien client.

He wasn't hard to spot, once she knew what she was looking for. Calm and serene, he stood in the middle of the crowd, his hand still brushing against her hip. He looked just like every other Kurazi, even though she'd only seen them on television, in artist's renderings and grainy security camera footage.

He was humanoid—that is, human shaped. However his face was so pale as to be almost white, and his huge dark eyes, black from lid to lid, remained expressionless. Bony ridges decorated his cheekbones, brows, nose and high forehead, but his lips—the most human thing about him—were soft and full and quirked in a weird half-smile, as though he were sharing a secret with her. His dark clothes left his face an eerie apparition floating in the gloom of the club, and his fingers oozed cold.

Levvi kept her seductive expression plastered across her face. She may be dancing to pay her insurmountable debt to the lenders with only enough left over for a few packs of freeze dried noodles and a share of a shoebox in undertown, but she was a professional, god damn it. An alien shouldn't freak her out. Even a Kurazi. He certainly couldn't do anything to her in the middle of all these people.

Could he?

Running on autopilot, she tilted her head, letting her long, natural red hair slide over her shoulder, and pursed her lips before giving her ass a waggle. The blue-collar workadays clustered around her end of the stage howled and reeled, but the Kurazi just smirked.

Cold fingertips slid over her hip, under the thin string she wore, down and around, gliding against the crack of her ass and edging toward the scrap of fabric that barely covered her cunt. Shivers rippled across her skin, and Levvi froze, conflicted.

Out of line, she thought, but it was an automatic thought, pure business that had nothing to do with the sudden fear and illicit, unwelcome pleasure his touch inspired. She should press the alarm beacon hidden behind her ear and call the bouncer. But...would Dunc even see him before he disappeared into the crowd? Would she even have a chance to lift her hand before the Kurazi did whatever sinister thing he wanted to do?

His fingertips ghosted under the edge of the fabric, barely brushing against the soft outer folds of her pussy. Her breath caught.

What did he want to do?

The question seared across her mind and she hesitated for a crucial second. Then the spotlight passed over her, burning away her sight, and when it moved away, he was gone.

Levvi kept her smile on her face as she knelt at the edge of the stage, burying her arms in her hair and exposing her breasts. The throng around her surged and subsided, pelting her with crumpled dollar bills and catcalls, but inside she felt as though the Kurazi's cold fingers had closed around her heart.

*

Levvi raced off the stage, her heart pounding. The fat stack of one dollar bills slipped and slid in her hand, and twice she almost dropped them. She didn't feel calm until she was in the dressing room, sitting on the grotty orange couch in the corner, one of Cos's only grudging admissions that his dancers were human beings instead of androids. The other girls flitted and fluttered, primping, gossiping, swapping costumes, and complaining. She barely heard them.

An alien had touched her. And not just any alien. A Kurazi.

She didn't know much about the Kurazi. No one did. They were rare, hardly ever seen off their homeworld and Kuraz was heavily guarded against unwanted guests, which, as far as Levvi knew, was everyone. They didn't even participate in the galactic council. Rumors about them were rampant. How they were gods. How they could read minds. How they could hypnotize you.

How they stole people away and erased the memories of their friends and family, so no one even noticed they were gone until someone wondered idly who owned a piece of clothing left on the floor, or stared at a photograph a little too long.

Levvi swallowed. He'd slid his fingers under her g-string before he'd felt her up. Had he given her something? Extra money? Five dollars? Ten? Twenty? A note? Quickly she thumbed through the stack of bills.

She looked three times and found nothing.

Her shoulders slumped. Of course he wouldn't. That had been her chance for something exciting to happen in this shitty place and she'd let it slip by.

Biting her lip, Levvi started to count her tips, but she kept losing count, until she finally gave up and settled for letting the money shift through her fingers. A soothing gesture. A few more nights and she'd have a roof over her head for another month...

“Hey. Hey, Levvi!”

Levvi started and turned to see her friend Radine sitting on the couch next to her, staring. She hadn't even noticed she was there. Guiltily, she shook herself and gave Rad a tired smile. “Sorry. Thinking of something. What's up?”

Rad sighed, clearly annoyed. “I said, you need to get Chax to walk you home tonight.”

Levvi lifted her brows. “What? Why? I thought we got off at the same time.” She and Rad usually walked home together since they both lived on the same shitty block in undertown.

“I knew you weren't listening to me and I've been talking to you for like five minutes!” She blew a chuff of air to flush out her irritation, then leaned in, clearly excited. “There's this guy who wants me to dance for him in private. He's offering me a lot of money, and wanted me to do it tonight. He's not even playing it cool or anything.”

Levvi felt a flash of jealousy. For girls like them, a private client could mean the difference between spending the rest of their lives like this, and going on to bigger and better things. If she could hook him and get him to keep coming back, that is. One of the girls who had been a founding dancer had caught the eye of a Borenian diplomat back when first contact had been made. Levvi had heard she was a bigshot entrepreneur now, out touring the galaxy and building her very own criminal empire on the side. She never came back to visit. Levvi didn't blame her. If she ever got out of here, she'd never come back, either.

She forced herself to smile. “I hope he's rich as hell,” she said, and that, at least, was the truth. If Rad got out of here, maybe she could give Levvi a helping hand up.

“Me, too,” Rad said, standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder. She gave her flawless make up a cursory check in the mirror.

“You got a beacon on you?”

“Duh. Never go anywhere without it. Fucking thing costs me like half a night's tips to keep it connected every month.”

Levvi nodded. “Good luck,” she said.

Rad gave a bounce and a grin, then headed out the door.

With a sigh, Levvi hauled herself out of the couch and changed clothes before taking her beacon from behind her ear and adjusting it to the general frequency. Replacing it, she gathered her necessaries and made her way around backstage to find Chax, who ran the lights and music and because he was always hoping to score, he was always willing to walk someone home.

Well, almost always. Levvi found him slumped over his sound station, fast asleep with a bottle of pills and a bottle of booze next to him. The program for the night was running smoothly without his help, as it always did. He was good at getting it set up perfectly so he could drink and hit on the waitresses all night instead of work. Only this time he looked too wasted to do anything except sleep it off. Levvi gave him an experimental poke, but he barely even moved.

She sighed and fiddled with her beacon. She hated walking home alone, but she knew the other girls did it all the time. She was probably just being paranoid. And even if she could wake Chax up, she wasn't sure she wanted to deal with his inexpert groping and come-on lines delivered with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. And anyway, undertown wasn't the worst place to walk alone at night. There were plenty of junkies and homeless people to keep her company.

Levvi left Chax to his stupor, waved goodbye to her coworkers, and headed out the door.

The chill of undertown hit her across the face and she shivered, pulling her ratty coat tightly around her shoulders. There was a slight breeze from the huge air compressors that delivered the pumped air underground, but mostly the night air was stale, thick with the acrid stink of sweat and booze and vomit and backed up sewers. The lights were off to simulate the natural rhythms of the earth above—the planet that was now only available to the rich who could afford to cool dwellings with windows and grow their own food in special greenhouses—but the neon lights of the businesses built into the earth lit the narrow laneway well enough. There were no cars any longer—Levvi had only seen them in history books and old vids—but there were still crowds of people, even this late at night. No one wanted to go home to the two-room shitholes they shared with three other families, or, in her case, the one-room shithole she shared with five other roommates. The noise, bouncing off the concrete ceilings and walls, was almost as deafening as the music in the club. A headache bloomed behind her right eye, and she popped a pill from the secret compartment in the necklace she wore, letting it dissolve under her tongue to get it into her bloodstream quicker.

I should have grabbed that alien's hand and begged him to take me out of here, Levvi thought. Who cared what happened next? At least she wouldn't be here any more and there was no way she'd make it out by herself. The colonies didn't need strippers, and she wasn't quite a prostitute yet. Sure, she'd done stuff for money—you did what you had to—but it wasn't her day job. Or night job. Haha.

Levvi trudged along. A group of drunken businessmen, clearly slumming it in this part of undertown, staggered past her, singing a song in a language she recognized as Falese, probably the most fashionable and artistic alien culture. She'd done a number of dances to Falesian chart toppers, but damned if she could understand it. She didn't have the kind of money required for a translation implant. A homeless man with straggling hair and the sunken, sallow look of an Indigo Dust addict caromed off her shoulder. Automatically she checked to make sure he hadn't stolen anything, but all her cards and papers were in place when she patted the inside pocket of her jacket. He was probably too strung out to even notice he'd bumped into her.

More people passed. A woman snagged her sleeve and propositioned her, for a fee. Two drunk men, too loaded to be any threat, tried to persuade her to step into the flophouse behind them. A crier tried to hustle her into a club that was even seedier than Cosmo's, if that were possible, and a kid only a few years younger than her asked if she had any sea salt—the drug, not the flavorful mineral—and spat on her when she shook her head.

Levvi sighed as she stared at the dark glob of mucus on her sleeve. Briefly she considered trying to rub it off with her other sleeve, but that would require letting go of the hand she held, and she didn't want to do that. She was fond of holding hands. It made her feel safe.

Holding hands.

Holding hands.

The roar of undertown seemed to recede. Cold crept up her arm. She felt a presence walking beside her. Rough skin rubbed against her palm.

He was next to her. Right next to her. Her hand nestled comfortably in his.

Levvi lifted her chin, her nerves suddenly singing, questions racing across her mind. What was he doing here? Why was he following her? What did he want? And when the hell had he grabbed her hand, and how the hell didn't she notice it?

She didn't dare glance next to her. She didn't want to show she was afraid. She didn't want to show she was excited.

What if the rumors are true? she thought, and her breath came short and shallow.

“I'm glad you aren't like the others,” said a voice near her ear. It seemed to echo, scraping and and slithering over her brain, and then the hand let go of hers, gliding up her back, snaking over her shoulder and sliding over her mouth, rough and cool, and she suddenly felt very calm. Happy, even.

Why shouldn't he have his hand on her lips? She liked it. They felt nice. The smell of his skin drifted past her nose, and she caught strange scents, cold and sharp that she couldn't put a name to. Dreamily, Levvi thought that this must have been what snow smelled like. She'd never seen snow. Snow didn't happen now, and even if it did she couldn't afford the trip to the surface to see it. Inhaling, she tried to catch the scent again, and again it filled her head, sending it spinning. The world tilted and reeled. She was glad she had an arm around her, supporting her.

A pale face floated at the corner of her vision. She let herself be guided along, gently tugged this way and that, until they rounded the corner of a cross street she had never been down before. But why shouldn't she follow him? She wanted to.

Didn't she?

A tiny part of her rebelled, and she stiffened as they ducked into a darkened doorway. The crowds were thinner here, and she could hear his chuckle over the echoes. There was a queer quality to his voice, a kind of grating shadow underneath the smother overtones. It reverberated in her skin, down to her bones.

Cool fingers, smooth, but interrupted with small ridges, scraped over her lips as he removed his hand from her mouth and pressed her into the corner of the doorway. Her head cleared a bit.

He loomed. His face had fallen into shadow, but the bony ridges of his skull stood out against the light, and he may have been alien, but his body was a little too humanoid for comfort. A broad chest blocked any escape routes she might have taken, The metal shutters of the closed shop bit into her shoulder through the thin fabric of her jacket, and it clanged with her movements as she tried to shy away. Her brain didn't seem to be working right.

Levvi struggled to think through the strange fog in her head. “What's...what's going on?” she managed to say at last.

He laughed again and moved in.

Get away, the only clear-thinking part of her said. Get away, get away, get away—

She tried to step back. She truly did. But there was nowhere for her to run. Only the hard, cold concrete and the metal of the shutters covering the door met her back. Then his body was pressed against hers and the cold smell filled her head again. This time, however, it wasn't so overpowering. The happy, peaceful feeling did not return.

Memories of what others had said about the Kurazi raced across her mind. They trick you, mesmerize you. They lure other species like prey, into their lairs, where they devour their flesh and crunch their bones. Panic kicked in. By instinct her hand shot up, reaching for the beacon she had hidden behind her ear, but it never made it.

Fast as the speed of light, the Kurazi caught her wrist and squeezed. Pain—not much, but enough to hold her still—circled her arm. Frantically, she yanked at her hand, struggling against his grip, but it was like a vise. She opened her mouth to scream, but as she drew breath his other hand clamped down over her lips again.

One hard thigh snaked between her legs, lifting her up until she was propped against the wall, her toes dangling above the ground. Muscles, strangely arranged, rubbed against her pussy, and she could feel every quiver and twitch through the thin cotton of her panties. Levvi squirmed, and in spite of herself a small jolt of pleasure bloomed where their bodies met. The fine fabric of his pants grazed the tender insides of her thighs and her back arched, pushing her pussy down against his leg even harder. Her mouth went dry.

She was trapped, like a butterfly pinned to a piece of cork. Her breath came hard and fast, burning in her throat, and her breasts rose and fell in time. With each inhalation, they brushed against the Kurazi's hard chest. She felt him chuckle, and it vibrated through her. His lips moved, though the rush of blood in her ears nearly drowned out his words.

“I come in peace, earthling,” he said, and she thought she could see his mouth curving in the shadows. Somewhere over his shoulder, a neon sign—pink and green—outlined the  pale skin with psychedelic color.

The pressure on her mouth eased, his hand moving to cup her chin. As though inspecting a fine piece of china, the pad of his thumb—cool, a little rough, but also smooth, like the scales of a snake—ran over her bottom lip. Instinctively she licked the flesh there, the tip of her tongue chasing his finger. She tasted his skin, cold and clean. Belatedly, she realized that he had made a joke.

Game face! she told herself fiercely. She'd never let a client see that he had the upper hand over her. Theoretically, anyway. The absurdity of his 'joke' and the idea that any client could ever make her feel this way drew a disbelieving laugh from her. Levvi lifted her chin, pulling the tatters of her dignity around her.

“In peace?” she managed to say. “Really?”

“Indeed.” She felt his eyes on her, traveling across her bare shoulders, over the soft mounds of her breasts. He tilted his head, surveying. Somewhere on the thruway outside, someone burst into raucous laughter, but he didn't seem to notice. Cool, rough hands skated up the outside of her thigh, pushing her skirt up, up, past her hip.

He was no longer holding her captive. She could reach up and signal five-oh to come to her rescue, though whether they'd take five minutes or five hours no one could say.

But she didn't.

“I've been watching you,” he whispered as her hands slid up over his chest. He wore a coat of some slick, lightweight material, and it was cool and featureless against her palms. “You are not like the others.” Fingers worked their way under the elastic of her practical, every-day panties, nothing like the g-string she wore for work, and yet the sensation sent a violent shudder through her. Leaning in, he pressed his cheek against hers, and the strange, alien feel of his cool skin and ridged bones electrified her. She felt as though all her nerves were exposed, raw and ready for his touch.

No man had ever made her feel this way. Sex was fun and all, but this was so primal, so deep and unbearable that it frightened her as much as it aroused her. She felt as though she were drugged, drawn to him like a compass toward north. A need, an ache she had never felt before, woke inside her.

He threaded one hand through her hair. The other brushed against her labia. Inside, she felt her muscles clench, and her clit stood at attention.

It took a moment for her to form words. “What are you doing? Why were you... ah!... watching me...?”

He shifted his thigh, rubbing it against her aching pussy as he pulled her head back, exposing her throat to him. He bent his head to her hammering pulse. His lips, cool and soft, wandered, leaving a ripple of shivers in their wake.

“You are perfect,” he murmured, which didn't answer her question, but then his cool finger slipped over her slick folds and nudged her entrance and all questions were obliterated.

A whimper escaped her, and Levvi pushed against his hand. She felt so empty, and he didn't help by pulling her head back even farther, thrusting her breasts toward him. She was tethered in place, open and helpless against his assault, and he took full advantage. Warmth, startling against the coolness of his skin, closed around one pert nipple, and Levvi cried out, squirming.

“I need... please...” she gasped.

He bit down, lightly, and suckled. Her slit quivered, clamping down on nothing, grasping at the tip of his finger.

“What do you need?” he whispered.

“Your fingers... I need them inside...”

He moved forward, lowering his thigh, and she hooked a leg over his hip, opening herself to him. Slowly, gently, he slid one long cool finger inside her. It slipped in easily, its way prepared by the juices almost gushing from her quivering channel.

“So willing,” he murmured. “So ready.”

He pulled his hand back and she almost cried at the loss, but then another finger joined the first. She couldn't catch her breath, swept up as he pushed his way inside again. Gently he parted his fingers, pushing against her walls, stretching her out, and she couldn't stand it. Slowly, he fucked her with his fingers, in and out, in and out, but it wasn't enough, not enough at all. Her hips bucked and the muscles of her inner walls clamped down, but ecstasy was just out of her reach.

She needed more.

Her hands roamed over his chest, searching for some way into his clothes, but she couldn't seem to find one. Frantically she plucked at his pants, and her searching hands found just what she was looking for—just what she needed.

A huge bulge pressed against her palm, and Levvi smoothed her hand against it. It was phallic-shaped—thank god—but it was harder and bigger than any man's cock she'd ever felt, and as she gave it an experimental rub through the fabric of his trousers she realized it was ridged, like the channels and protrusions of bone that traced across his skin, but a little softer.

Her mouth watered at the thought of riding it, and he seemed to like the idea as well because he grunted as she closed her fingers around it and squeezed.

His slow finger-fuck picked up pace, and on his next thrust he cupped his hand, bringing the fleshy base of his fingers to her clit.

“Oh god!” she cried. The skin on his palm was just as rough and ridged as his fingertips, and when he circled her clit with his palm she caught fire. Her breasts felt heavy, and it were as though there were a direct line from her clit to her nipples. He suckled harder, grinding his palm into the hard little nub at the apex of her cleft and her eyes rolled, lights flashing across her vision.

She fumbled at the waist of his pants, frantic to free his erection, and he groaned. Abruptly he pulled his fingers from her cunt, leaving her bereft and almost crying with unfilled need and undid the fastenings himself.

She felt his dick pop free, ricocheting against her mound, and she grabbed it with both hands.

It felt good. She was no expert on alien anatomy, but she couldn't help but think the fact that his cock was slick and lubricated was a good sign. Tough ridges pulled at her fingertips as she closed her hands around it and stroked.

He bucked and cried out in a strangled voice. “Alaka!”

While she couldn't understand the language, she could only assume it was something good, because he shoved her against the wall and worked his fingers into her hungry cunt again, his hips thrusting against hers.

Levvi moaned. Pleasure coursed through her body wherever he touched her. His ridged and rigid cock, pressed against the softness of her belly, scraped erotically over her skin as if he were seeking entrance, and though his body was cold his breath was a hot and ragged furnace in her ear. The long, chilled fingers worked her pussy while the bony ridges of his palm rubbed her aching clit in slow, purposeful circles as he fucked her with his hand.

“You love it, don't you?” he whispered, his buzzing voice throaty and brimming with desire. “And yet you could fight it if you wanted.”

She couldn't even answer. A groan escaped through clenched teeth as she shoved her mound against him, her whole body begging him to lift her up and fuck her against the wall. She didn't care if everyone could see them, she didn't care if she spent the rest of her life unsatisfied by every other man after this, she needed him inside her now.

“You are so beautiful. You could refuse, couldn't you?” Teeth, sharper than any human teeth, clamped down on her earlobe, dragging over the tender skin there, and Levvi cried out, writhing.

“God, shut up and fuck me,” she growled.

He made a strangled sound and his hips bucked against hers at the crude demand, his erection grinding into her stomach.

The teeth retreated and the lips returned. A cool, rough tongue probed the sensitive shell of her ear, tracing the intricate folds there, and she wondered what it would be like to have that tongue wrapped around her nipples, on her clit, shoved up inside her cunt. “Do not tempt me,” he whispered. “You are not meant for me.”

She wanted to ask what he meant, but he chose that moment to let go of her hair. His movements, before so practiced and careful, had taken on a frantic, hungry edge. Roughly, he slid his hand down her back and grabbed her buttocks, squeezing hard, parting them. One long cool finger brushed against her asshole.

“Ah!” Levvi writhed, clinging to him as he reached between the cleft of her legs, coating his finger in the slick juices of her pussy before returning to her puckered entrance.

Her breath caught as he slowly pushed his way inside, filling her up from in front and behind. She thrashed, impaled, as the urgent rhythm of his hands drove her higher and higher. Her breath came out in low moans, and he answered her. His cock, huge and throbbing, rubbed against her, and she clutched at it, imagining every bump and valley dragging against her slick walls. The cool, slick skin covering the thick rod glided between her hands, slipping and sliding as he sought release with her. He circled her clit again, then shifted, removing his palm.

“No, I need—” she began to say, but the rough pad of his thumb replaced it. The walls of her cunt clamped down and a low, curling warmth unfurled in her belly. Desperately she fucked his fingers, so close to climax she could taste it in the back of her mouth, rising up, uncoiling, and his hot, heavy breath echoed in her ear as she stroked his cock. Would his cum taste like a man's, or like something entirely different? She had to know, but she couldn't have stopped for the world.

“Fuck me,” she panted, “fuck me, you feel so good, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, oh, my god—”

She came, quickly and violently, shattering around his thrusting fingers, melting in his otherworldly arms. Her whole body clamped down, her quivering pussy sucking his fingers deep inside her, and the world went white and serene. Distantly, she heard someone screaming, raw and unbridled, and she realized it was her own voice, the one that had been quiet for so long, hidden inside while she danced on a stage for others' enjoyment. In that moment, she stole it back from the dark underground world that had sealed it inside her, and it felt good.

Slowly, shudderingly, she came down. The world came back into focus.

His breath in her ear was still hot and ragged, and the cock in her hands still stood ramrod straight. His body still hid her from the street and the passersby, but she found she didn't care if a thousand people were watching. Let them watch. She'd just had the best fucking orgasm of her life. They should be jealous.

Her cunt and ass quivered and convulsed as his fingers slid out, and she just wanted to collapse to the ground and not move. But the thick cock in her hands begged for her attention, and, well... she was a professional.

Drawing back, Levvi looked up into his barely visible eyes, deep and unreadable, and gave him a sly little smile.

“You need some help,” she murmured. “Let me give you a hand.”

His breath hitched as she sank to her knees. “Ah...” he breathed. “I... kalana nilo...”

His voice choked as she took his thick cock into her mouth and swallowed it down. Every ridge and bump pushed over her lips, and the slick secretions burned coldly on her skin, like mint or menthol. Her mouth tingled as he thrust forward, and she was shocked to find he had no testicles. Her hands reached around to grab his ass, and ridges brushed against her nose at the base of his cock as she opened her throat and sucked his whole length inside her. She couldn't imagine what they would feel like against her clit. She wanted to fuck him, ride him hard until they both passed out.

But before she could suck him to completion, he cried out and jerked away. Levvi whimpered, disappointed, and made a grab for him, but he crouched down next to her, burying his head in her shoulder, and grunted as he came. She felt his cum spilling over her fingers, burning with cold, and it seemed to go on forever. Each jerk of his cock brought another load, and when he was finally done he sagged against her, utterly spent.

Curious, Levvi brought her hand up, some of his jizz cupped in her palm. She wanted to see if it tasted like his cock, but before she was able to bring it to her mouth, he stopped her.

“No,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It would harm you.”

She raised a brow. “Really? Is it poisonous?”

He gave a tired laugh. “Ah... it is not beneficial. Let's leave it at that.”

Now she really wanted to try it, but she forced herself to wipe it off on her skirt. The smell of spearmint met her nose. At least it smelled good.

The sounds of the street behind him filtered in past her post-coital haze, and Levvi started to realize she had just let an alien fingerbang her in the doorway of a closed shop.

“Oh,” she said. Awkwardly she stood and brushed herself off, reaching up and readjusting her panties as discreetly as possible, which wasn't very discreet at all considering her alien paramour stayed crouching at crotch-level and watched her with naked interest. Neon light fell on his upturned face, and his wide, dark eyes stared up at her intently. She couldn't read him at all.

Levvi shifted. She'd done a lot of crazy sexual things in her life, but most of them were onstage, and this had been, far and away, the craziest. That her legs still trembled from the aftermath of her orgasm did not help the situation.

“I'll... uh.” Levvi cast about for words. “See you... around?”

That same queer smile quirked his lips again. “I hope so, sah'li.” Gracefully he stood, his hands working some magic with his trousers, expertly concealing his cock before she could get a good look, and Levvi tried not to feel disappointed. “You see, I have been looking for you.”

Levvi blinked, tearing her eyes away from the bulge still visible in his pants. “What?” she said, feeling stupid. “Oh. Yeah. You said something like that. Glad you found me.” She coughed. God this was awkward. “I'll just... be going home. You can catch me after shows at Cosmo's, but I guess you already knew that...”

She began to edge around him and laughed nervously. Which was stupid. He'd practically been wrist-deep in her twat five minutes ago. The time for nerves was long gone.

He reached out and placed a hand on her arm. Gentle. Not restraining her like before. Just... sweet. A request. “No,” he said.

She stopped and blinked. “No?”

He smiled. “My master has been searching for a woman in this galaxy who can fulfill his needs. I believe you are the one.”

Levvi blinked again. Her mouth twisted. “Your master?”

He inclined his head. “Come with me, sah'li. You would be my master's most treasured prize. The only woman in the galaxy we have found who could resist us.” He smiled. “Though you chose not to with me.”

Levvi stepped back. “I'm sorry,” she said after a second. “Are you saying you want me to come with you and be a... I'm sorry. You want me to have sex with your master?”

He tilted his head. “Only if you wanted to. That is the fun of it for him. We are able to bend any other creature to our will. You... not so much.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay. So. I'd be a sex slave?”

His full, beautiful lips pursed. “I believe concubine would be more appropriate.” His eyes shifted to her hair, and, almost as though he were in a trance, he twined one red lock around a finger. “You would have power, wealth, pleasure. The galaxy would be at your feet.

Levvi thought for a moment. A moment was all it took, really. She wasn't surprised.

“Oh, twist my arm,” she said. “I'm in.”

He smiled and bowed. “My name is Laqir.”

“Leviathan Morse,” she replied. “When do we leave.”

Laqir reached out and took her hand. “Now.”

And the world went white.

* * *

To be continued in Her Alien Instructor: Galactic Concubine, part 2!

About The Author

Ava Lore was raised by wombats and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing erotica, she spends her time thinking about writing erotica and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox.

You can email Ava Lore at authoravalore@gmail.com. She yearns for your approval.