Unworldly Encounter Complete Series (11 page)

BOOK: Unworldly Encounter Complete Series
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She had definitely gotten the impression that Jan’s libido, like his stature and his endowment, was super-human. It would make sense that he would want her to be available to him as much as possible, though she thought they would need to have a discussion about her need to recuperate occasionally. She still felt the dull ache in her hips, the tenderness between her legs from their days together, particularly the most recent session.
 

“What if I don’t want to be naked all the time?” Andrea asked playfully. Jan closed the distance between them, looking down at her with an expression of mixed sternness and amusement.

“I will have to train you. And punish your defiance.” Jan brushed his lips against her forehead, his hands moving over her body. “When you fully agree to become my sub,” he told her, his voice dropping down low, “You will be giving your body to me. I will expect my mate to fulfill my needs, just as much as I care for yours.” Andrea’s body hummed with tingling, rising desire. In spite of her instinctive defiance, instinctive tetchiness at the idea of “belonging” to someone, of someone owning, even partially, her body, she couldn’t help but admit that something about Jan’s casual possessiveness was appealing. When he spoke to her like that, his voice low, his hands teasing her into quick arousal, she was more than willing to agree to his terms.

Jan broke away abruptly. “The recipe should be ready to drink,” he told her. Andrea watched with a mixture of frustrated desire and a little bit of fear as Jan walked to the stove and ladled a cupful. She couldn’t imagine it was possibly cool enough not to scald his mouth.
But then what the hell do I know about alien anatomy?
Andrea blushed as she remembered all in a flash what she did, in fact, know— about Jan’s anatomy, at least.
 

Jan blew across the surface of his cup and glanced at Andrea. “Do not look so nervous,” he said, smiling slightly. “It will not harm me.” Andrea pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath. Jan quickly drank down the potion he had created. He made a displeased face at the flavor and set the cup down. Andrea realized she was holding her breath and forced herself to exhale. Jan did not double over; he did not go into convulsions.
 

At first, Andrea thought that maybe it wouldn’t work at all, but then, gradually, she saw Jan’s purplish skin begin to shift and change in color. Her eyes widened—he looked pale, but definitely not purple anymore, in a matter of moments. His eyes darkened slightly but didn’t lose the honey-gold color entirely. Subtle changes—he still looked unusual, and he would be noticeable wherever he went, but he looked indisputably human. Andrea was almost disappointed. She had become so accustomed to Jan’s unearthly appearance, to see it retreating was strange, disquieting. “You’re sure this won’t poison you?”
 

“It will not poison me. How do you like human me?” He smiled.
 

Andrea shook her head, “I like the regular you better.” A thought occurred to her. “You’re not… you haven’t…?” She blushed deep red. Jan raised an eyebrow slowly, grinning. He opened the fastenings on his coverall and stripped out of it, standing before her. The skin on his body was the same slightly pale pinkish-tan of his face. When he pulled down his strange underwear, Andrea saw—what she had been unable to quite ask—that his endowment was just as huge as it had always been.
 

“We should have a test run,” Jan suggested. “I need clothing, and I have an idea for where we should go. You are in desperate need of supplies.”

Andrea’s mind reeled as Jan tugged her towards the entrance of a garishly-marked, neon-spangled store called
The Velvet Dungeon.
“Where the hell did you come up with this?” she asked him, shaking her head.
 

“I have done much investigating,” Jan said, grinning with amusement. “I have done a—you say search? On the human Internet.”
 

“When did you do that?”
 

Jan made a soft sound, almost a chuckle. “Last night.” He propelled her towards the door. Mannequins posed and contorted in the window, decked out in kink-infused lingerie, juxtaposed in positions of dominance and submission, as if there had been any doubt from the exterior décor and the name of the establishment what was within. Jan gripped her hand firmly. The woman manning the desk looked up, and Andrea thought that perhaps she had it on the tip of her tongue to ask for their IDs to verify their age. She felt a moment’s doubt; Jan certainly did not have any kind of ID. But the sight of such a huge man, obviously of age, apparently changed the clerk’s mind.
 

“Just how much money are you planning to spend here?” Andrea looked around as Jan led her deeper into the shop, peering at signs with interest. She saw items that she recognized, vibrators, dildos, a few things she thought she had seen in the occasional porn video, and some that were entirely foreign. Tubes, bottles, even large jugs of lubricant were scattered around in displays, and Andrea thought she had never seen so much leather, vinyl and metal in one place in her life. Her gaze trailed everywhere as Jan led her around. Andrea checked at a display of items that looked oddly like horse tack; she did not want to even thing about what the carrot-shaped plastic implement was for.

It had been a relief to Andrea to discover that somehow or another, Jan had managed to get his hands on American currency; she didn’t ask too many questions as to how. “When we are assimilating me,” he said, “I will get a bank account.”

“You know,” Andrea had said, shaking her head in wonder, “it kind of amazes me the stuff you managed to pick up about our culture and the stuff you’re totally clueless about.”

Jan stopped abruptly, and Andrea looked in the direction he was facing. “Yes,” he murmured softly, adding something in his own language. “This is very necessary.” It was a display of various methods of binding: cuffs—leather and metal both, some of them with gleaming hardware for other attachments, ropes of different weight and style, bars for immobilization, bondage tape, almost any conceivable method to render a person helpless. Andrea felt a frisson of apprehension as Jan grabbed one item after another. Two pairs of leather cuffs, a spreader bar, a coil of soft rope. Without letting go of her hand, Jan abruptly nodded to himself and turned away, pulling her in his wake.

Andrea watched with a mixture of fear and rising desire as Jan stopped at one display after another, selecting cruel-looking clamps, two different kinds of flogger, and a couple of vibrating devices. He stopped at a display of butt plugs and Andrea tugged at his hand. “Hey, we talked about this,” she said lowly, not wanting to alert the clerks wandering the huge store.
 

“You are my sub,” Jan told her simply, his voice low but agreeable. “You will try this for me. I will not hurt you.”

“I am not…” Andrea blushed. “I don’t like this.” Her blush intensified. During their morning training session, Jan had teased her, carefully stroking and then gently pressing his fingers against her pucker as he played a vibrator against her pleasure-center until she was mewling, moaning, whimpering with need.
 

“You liked it before,” Jan said, reminding her even more forcefully. “You may use your safe word if you decide you do not like it, but as your Master I insist that you will try it.” Andrea swallowed.

“Okay,” she said, knowing when it was impossible to argue with the man she had agreed—tentatively—to take as her mate. “I will try it. But you remember the rules.”

“I remember very well.” He added two different plugs—one larger than the other, neither of them quite as big as his own equipment—into the basket he had taken. “You must have very much lubricant.” He grabbed one of the larger bottles, reading the label and turning it to her gaze.
Oh god,
she thought, her eyes flicking back and forth to read the words.
Tingling/warming stimulation. That’s just what I need.

At the checkout, the woman who had greeted them stared in unabashed amazement at the size of the sale as Jan deposited one item after another on the counter. Andrea hummed all over; she could almost imagine the variety of uses to which her alien lover would put the assortment of hardware, and she wasn’t sure what her feelings on some of the items were, but others made her inner muscles tighten reflexively, sending a jolt through her that made her quickly wet with desire. “Stocking up, I take it,” the cashier said, barely glancing at them with amusement on her face.

“Yes. I’ve just moved here, wasn’t able to bring my collection with me,” Jan said. Andrea almost laughed out loud—it was frightening how readily he had gone into that banter. How quick he was to respond with exactly the right excuse to allay any suspicion.
If he hadn’t changed his mind about research subjects…

As they left the store, Jan took her hand, giving it a careful squeeze. “You will like these,” he said. He slipped a hand into the bag and withdrew something she hadn’t noticed he had purchased. It was a thin, graceful-looking leather collar, with swirling, Celtic-looking metal hearts studding it, a ring protruding from the center. “This will look good on you.”

“As long as you don’t expect me to start acting like a dog, or a cat or… a horse,” Andrea said dubiously.

“No,” Jan agreed with a smile. “Just like my obedient Little One.”

They arrived at Andrea’s home with not a moment to spare. The effects of the potion had begun to abate, and even as they pulled into the driveway, Jan’s skin was starting to develop a purplish tinge, marking him as an alien once more. With daylight still lingering in the late afternoon sky, they hurried into the house, Andrea’s gaze switching around the quiet suburban block to see if any of her neighbors were watching.
 

The moment they were inside Jan turned to her. “You are wet,” he murmured lowly, looking amused even as he began to take on his more alien features once more. “I know that you are. It is time for more training.”

He picked up one of the bags and led her towards the bedroom by her hand, his grip strong enough to prevent her pulling away, but not so strong as to hurt, and Andrea felt her heart pounding. What did he have in store for her? She blushed, wondering just how he knew the extent of her arousal, and she squirmed against the damp slickness between her thighs. Jan stopped and turned to face her. “You will strip, Little One, before you come in.” The impulse to tell Jan that it was her house—that she would strip or not strip based on her own inclination and not his—flitted through Andrea’s mind, disappearing as quickly as it arose.

Jan’s intent gaze took her in, and Andrea began to unbutton her blouse slowly, wondering to what extent he actually wanted her to perform. His attention was riveted on her as Andrea revealed more and more skin, peeling her blouse off and letting it fall to the floor, slithering out of her tight jeans, standing before him in nothing but her bra and panties for a moment, an eyebrow raised in question. Jan nodded slightly, indicating that he wanted those items off too. Andrea turned her back to Jan and unhooked her bra, guiding the fabric away from her skin slowly. She slid the straps along one arm and then along the other, letting her heavy breasts tumble slightly out of the garment. She looked over her shoulder at him and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. Andrea bent forward, pushing the fabric down along her thighs, past her knees, letting him see the curve of her ass, the flash of her sex between her legs. She stepped out of the panties and covered her breasts with her crossed arms, affecting modesty as she turned to face him.

“This is very good,” Jan said, his voice low and intense. “Drop your arms, show me all of you.” Andrea had to admit something about the inherent eroticism was getting to her. She was getting wetter by the moment, her body was tingling all over, her chest felt warm from the rush of blood in her veins. She let her arms fall to her sides, and Jan’s gaze darted down to admire the slight bouncing of her breasts as they were freed.

He pulled the collar out of the bag. Andrea tilted her head back, a protest on her lips, but Jan moved quickly, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “You are my Little One,” he murmured softly. “You will remember. This will help you.” Andrea swallowed, catching her top lip between her teeth in doubt. Jan carefully wrapped the collar around her neck until the leather just pressed against her skin, in full contact, a slight weight against her collar bones. She heard the clink of the buckle as he closed it at the back of her neck, the subtle metallic squeak of the ring at the front. This was an entirely new level of commitment to BDSM, Andrea thought, feeling herself becoming more aroused in spite of her instinctive doubts.
 

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