CHAPTER28
?ROUTINE, BUT NO ALIEN PEEN?
?MARTA
God has it been days,weeks, a month? I guess I’ve never been great at keeping time, but doubly bad at it when there’s an alien obsessed with making me come all day long.
I stare at the new clothing Jens’i just brought in. We get dressed up for dinner every night. Raf’ere always looks ridiculous and overdone. A true alien peacock that one is. When I told Raf’ere I hated the clothing he bought for me, for I’m sure all the reasons he loved it, he had this new batch made.
On the rack in front of me is a varying array of slip dresses and tight-sleeved gowns. Raf’ere lavishes attention on the softest parts of my body when he makes me come. So, seeing how every garment will hug my figure now? I’m sure it was very intentional on his part. I can’t say I hate that.
I hold up a dark brown gown, its fabric has almost a wet sheen. It’s going to make me look like sex on a stick, and I’ll need that. I’m going to ask the duke to leave the estate again.
I brought up leaving this place once during however long I’ve been here…and it didn’t go well. Despite being able to travel more freely inside the building, I’m still a captive.
The way he reacted made me feel like I had committed a grave betrayal. It was as though I was begging him to condemn me to my own demise.
I’m not a pet, but I am grateful for Raf’ere when we aren’t discussing my captivity.
Granted, I’m a captive who regularly gets her pussy eaten out by a weirdly hot alien duke…but a captive all the same.
I can't blame Stockholm syndrome for the fact that I feel a strange fondness for the duke, despite our circumstances. He’s more than generous in the bedroom and never asks or expects reciprocation. I can't help but feel a bit strange about the fact that he has never attempted to put his dick in me—he hasn’t even kissed me. On my mouth, that is.
His arsenal of sex toys is astonishing, and he uses them to make me come nearly every night. But on the occasions I have enough energy to even attempt to reach for his cock after he blows my mind, he shoves me off. Distracts me with some new instrument of pleasure.
He must want to, right? I can feel how hard he gets when that monster of his brushes against my thighs. I don’t push it, because when I push anything with him, he shuts down.
It could be worse, I remind myself. I’ve got little Nubbins to keep me occupied during the day. He needs to swim quite a bit, and now that I’m actually learning how to swim, I can play with him down in the chapel.
I’m still not allowed in the water by myself, except when my “alien lifeguard” is present.
He’s a good teacher, and our reward system helps, but I feel a bit like Pavlov's dogs. Instead of salivating when the bell rings, as soon as I get into the waters of I’loh, my pussy throbs. She knows her reward is imminent.
For as much as I want to blame him for everything bad that’s happened to me, he did save me from the sex trafficking aliens. When I had asked the maid if he was lying about my safety…she said he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Maybe I should trust him? Could this be the safest place for me in all of outer space?
Fuck, I want to trust him.
“This one will be perfect, thank you, Jens’i!” I tell the butler. He’s still the only staff I’ve met beyond the alien woman who I got fired. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately, especially the palace and the king she mentioned. Her information tells me two things.
There’s a king who rules over Raf’ere, and she thinks he should have just sent me to the palace.
Why wouldn’t he have done that? I still don’t know.
But tonight, at dinner, I’m finally going to ask him.
He thinks I don’t see the little treats he sneaks to Nubbins. That I don’t notice that he’s growing to love “the little beast,” as he’s come to call him. How I caught him tucking Nubbins in when he thought I wasn’t looking.
I know he’s happy by how tightly he holds me at night. Despite having my own bed, I haven’t slept in it in weeks. His strong arms just feelrightaround me.
When Jens’i closes the door, I pull the dress over my shoulders. The fabric slides easily over my curves. Just as I expected, it fits ridiculously well and hugs every plane of my body. Hisso’s work is always perfect. I’m assume the margin of error is slim to none for the synthetic when it comes to sewing. The sleeves of the dress are long, hitting me perfectly at my wrist. The garment’s neckline dips low, putting the girls on display.
I feel hot—but just like how I can’t quite rectify how fucking good Raf’ere makes me feel with my emotions over this captivity. It tickles some prideful part of my Leo brain to look this good, but what’s the point if I can never leave the estate?
We’re working on it,I remind myself.
Tonight, I ask him about the palace.
