Destroyers Little Pet | 18+

↥twenty-five

"Eat." He practically tosses the tray onto the table before turning to leave the room. I almost throw it back at him, just to spite him.

It's been three days of this. He's not generally warm and fuzzy but this is cold even for him. Something happened that he isn't telling me about.

The morning after our angry sex, he left to train. Everything seemed fine - normal. When he came back something was wrong. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to talk about it and it's apparently not getting better with time.

Then he's gone. I'm alone again.

I wouldn't be worried about it except that he hasn't touched me. Not one finger. He doesn't even seem interested. When I felt crampy and sick, he didn't attempt anything but I could see the longing. There isn't any longing now. He hardly looks at me but when he does, he doesn't look like he's holding himself back from me.

Sitting in the room alone, I open the wall panel and pull out more of the crystal tiles. I have to do something. Staring at the wall is too miserable a pastime.

So, I build another house. This time, I don't try to remember what houses actually looked like, I just create. If I could build my dream place, a safe haven, this is what I would do. It is large, likely not structurally sound, and full of interesting shapes. A room of triangles, a room of diamonds.

For hours, I pour every ounce of my attention into this building. I don't even know what half of it would be used for but I meticulously plot it out. It's beautiful.

It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen. It's not a house but it's my dream.

The door slides open behind me and my muscles tense. He's back.

"That is very large."

I'm surprised that he acknowledges me at all.

"It's just a building." I shrug.

"A place to live?"

"I want to live there." I stare at it.

"Show me." I can feel him behind me.

"Um, I was just building. It's not really a house, I just-"

"Show me."

"O-Ok." I suddenly feel nervous. What if he thinks the whole thing is stupid? I don't know if this design would even be a realistic possibility. "This area is actually outside. In my head it could be a garden and a pool."

"I do not know what those are."

"A garden is for plants. I would want it to be functional but also beautiful. I don't know how to grow anything but since this is all just my imagination anyway, I would love to see a flower again. I would also plant food. I haven't had fruit from home in years." I laugh at the absurdity of it.

"And a pool?"

"It's for swimming. It's water that-"

"Water training, we have this." He nods.

"Um, I mean, not for training, just for fun." A concept I'm coming to understand that aliens do not believe in. Nothing is for fun - nothing but sex. Everything else serves a purpose.

The understanding on his face melts into confusion. "And what is this?" He moves on, pointing to the deck upstairs.

"Its a rooftop deck. Because it's so high up there will be a view and I could sit outside during the day to feel the sun and watch the sunset at night." My eyes close involuntarily and I can almost feel the warmth on my face.

When I open my eyes, I catch him staring at my creation, studying it as if he's trying to understand.

"This is a very large space for a single person."

In my fantasy it's not just for me. It's full of people that I love, people that love me. I want laughter filling the hallways and rooms, the smell of food in the air, music and singing, dancing. I don't just want a building, I want a home and the feeling that comes along with that.

"What happened?" I don't mean for my voice to sound so downtrodden, but it slips out.

"I am to protect you."

This is not the response I expected. "I don't understand."

"That is our agreement. You give me pleasure, I protect you. I do not speak unless my words have meaning. I do not speak empty promises. When I gave you my word, I meant it. You have held up your end. You have provided me with endless pleasure." He sounds angry.

"Destroyer, I don't understand." Is he mad at me? He seems to be praising me, but his tone is so harsh and cold.

"You struck me and now my command demands your punishment. An act of aggression - a wrong - demands harsh and swift retaliation, that is our way. I have not publicly punished you for that misdeed and I am being chastised for it."

"And you don't want to punish me?" I hope I'm understanding him correctly.

"I do. But I cannot. I vowed to protect you."

"So you are mad at me?"

"Of course, you struck me. Anyone else dares to raise a hand to me and I would have killed them instantly." His hands clench at his sides.

"What would the punishment be? If you don't kill me, what else would it be?" I know how the Monturins punished their enemies. If I could handle that, I can probably handle anything.

A thick, strained sound rolls through his chest. Curiosity gets the better of me as I peek down at his cocks. Does the thought of punishing me excite him?

It seems to.

"I would own you. You would fall to your knees before me, before everyone and submit yourself to me. Many have fallen before me, I have laid ruin to anyone who rises against me. I would ruin you in a different way and you would revel in it." He sounds so sure of himself.

"It seems that you have thought about this." Against all reason, my stomach flutters, that squirmy, restless feeling I always get when I know he's about to make me feel the way only he can.

"I have thought of nothing else. I want to force you down and fuck your mouth in front of everyone. I want them to see what we do, the way I use your body, how you give yourself to me for my pleasure."

"Do it." The words come out before I have had a chance to think about what they mean.

"Do it?"

"Yes."

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