is present as far as I am concerned. Everything which happened to me at the hands of the scythkin, the incredible loss which makes me ache inside from the moment I wake until the moment I sleep, and taints my dreams with tears, that remains no matter how aroused I become.
I have been fighting these beasts for almost a decade. I have watched my hair start to turn gray, my skin begin to wrinkle. Time may be relative, but my internal wiring is winding down inexorably, and still I do not have my revenge. No matter how many die, no matter how much destruction is caused, there is not enough to assuage the pain deep in my soul.
My scythkin captor is evil because he is scythkin. It is as simple as that. It does not matter how good he makes me feel, or that in his arms I can almost begin to forget what sent me on this rampage across the stars in the first place.
He has left me alone, the cool drifting breeze from the ventilation ducts sending soft ripples of air across my heated sex. I am swollen and I am wet. I am empty, and craving to be filled with the thick flesh of that alien dominator.
How did this all start? Was it when I first woke up on this ship? Or was it sometime before that, in a distant and miserable past which has propelled me into this desperate future? I don’t know. I don’t like to think about the past. There is only pain in the past. Though I have to admit, at this point, the immediate future is looking fairly painful as well.
The Breaking
Warden
I know this one won’t be easy to break. Most humans don’t resist us. Their natural fear makes them compliant. Usually all it takes is the mere appearance of a scythkin to make a human, even a rebellious one, decide that they’d quite like to follow the rules actually please.
Occasionally, we find a human who bucks that trend. Those humans become our captives, and sometimes our mates. Silver has found a way to shatter her bonds of fear, which is why I have to apply actual bonds to her weak human body. To my gaze, the bonds are laughable. I could pin her down with a single finger if I needed to. But that would not create the same sensation of captivity, and that is what she needs, to know that she is mine, and that there is no escape this time.
It is hard to find restraints to fit a human. It’s actually hard to find restraints at all on most scythkin ships. Our kind rarely holds captives. We dispatch life as we find it. Occasionally we have to restrain one another, but those chains are much larger and heavier and a human as small as Silver would slip right out of them.
She does not know it, but the raven-dark metal around her wrists and ankles was forged by my own design and finished personally as I anticipated her arrival. She is a legend of a kind, an unbreakable prisoner, a ferocious female warrior on a mission of utter destruction. My mating flesh is growing just looking at her. She will not beg with her lips, but her body, her mind, her very existence begs to be thoroughly ravaged and completely broken.
Obsidian chains and restraints suit her. She has beautiful skin, a brown hue matched with a creamy gaze. Her hair is dark, but touched with the silver of a mature female. She is full figured, her hips are wide, her thighs are thick. She has weight and meat about her, and the muscled curves which female humans develop when they work hard. I admire her softness and her strength. Humans become more difficult to control as they gain age and experience. I think this one might be at her peak. Her file claims that she is in her fourth decade of existence, and that she has spent the last decade waging war against us and any other alien species which fails to respect humans. So, essentially, all of them.
My reaction to her surprises me. Scythkin have a softness for humans which borders on the obsession, that much is true, and many humans have been desired as mates over the millennia. Personally, I have never found humans attractive as a general rule. Entities who have no exoskeletal plates just look like food to me. This one is delectable, but in an