Nebula Book 1: His Breeder
1

YOU MUST READ THE FIRST SHE/THE FIRST HER BEFORE READING THIS STORY

WARNING:

-This first chapter may be triggering, so please read with caution.

-This story has a BITTERSWEET ending

“Quit your nonsense immediately.”

Ak scowled with as much ferocity as his face could muster. Instead of submitting to his wishes, the scrawny, ugly female squeezed her eyes tighter and kept producing more eye-water.

His hands lashed out and rested on her disgustingly weak shoulders. Her bones felt like twigs under his calloused hands, liable to break under the shyest pressure.

The women of his race had been proud, athletic warriors. For unknown reasons, their greatness had been wiped from the planet fifteen years ago and replaced with the bug that he was currently gripping. She was tiny and equipped with useless features such as the globes on her chest and watery eyes.

He wished he had the strength to raise his hand and thunder it south to flick the liquid off her face, but he knew that his hand would refuse to descend from the sky. There was no honor in a warrior unnecessarily hurting a sentient being that was weaker than him.

He grunted, fighting her sounds of distress.

“Stop this. You are unworthy of my seed, but I am still willing to give it to you. You should be thanking me.”

The bug continued its squirming.

With a sigh of annoyance, he grabbed his blade and began working on lighting a fire. He vowed that when the sun rose again, he would enter the girl and not leave her until his seed was tucked into her deepest crevice.

He needed to repopulate his species at any cost. This female’s suffering would be a necessary evil. After all, dark always comes before dawn.

It was not him that made the rules of the universe.

They camped early that afternoon. Akdronis could have kept going for many more hours, but he knew that the female couldn’t handle the strain.

He offered her strips of tusak meat, which she rejected. He couldn’t understand why considering that her growling stomach begged for food. When he opted to give her fruit, she accepted it and scurried away from him. He let her go. As long as she didn’t try to dash into the trees, she could cower all she wanted.

He built a small fire. If he was alone, he wouldn’t have risked it. The soft orange could attract animals and men alike. But with this uselessly built female, it wasn’t an option. The last thing he needed was for her to get sick.

They slept on opposite sides of the fire. He and his brothers were light sleepers, so he wasn’t concerned with her dashing off in the night.

Every few hours, he woke up to tend to the fire and check their environment. Come morning, he nudged the female awake. She stirred and then rushed away from him when she remembered her situation.

He continued their journey, taking her far away from his brothers’ camp. The sound of his bare feet crunching the wilderness sounded like a faint breeze in comparison to the hurricane that the female behind him was storming. She was huffing and puffing with breaths and whimpers, making a dangerous amount of noise. Her presence was stark, unable to camouflage into the wilderness.

Ak scowled when she pierced a particularly loud whimper. She was worthless in both design and spirit. Her weak body provided no protection against the fierceness of nature. But while she was stuck in her short frame, her spirit was hers to set free. She could choose to be a wildcat, to fight for him for liberty. Instead, she whimpered the sunlight away.

Pathetic. Childish. Fragile.

“What? What is it? Why can you not be quiet?” he boomed.

Her big brown eyes blurred behind who small lakes of water, and her hands settled against her stomach.

“Do you think I want to put my child in there? That I would tolerate you if Ezron still had females?”

While he knew that she couldn’t understand his words, he kept ranting. His disgust spewed out of his mouth like venom, marring his neck with angry tendons and veins.

“You are a worthless sentient being. Nothing compared to the glorious women of Ezron.”

Nebula bowed her head, unable to offer anything but submission.

With a grunt, he turned and continued to lead them through the jungle. Even after his outburst, she continued to mew those maddening sounds of distress.

He went on for only a few feet before rushing to her side.

What did she want?

He fed and kept her hydrated. His sword had become a cemetery of crimson from all the animals he slew to protect her. Most importantly, he hadn’t forced her– not yet, so why wouldn’t she shut up?

Her hands fell to her stomach again, and her obsession with that area surfaced a thought. Was she injured? Was that why she wouldn’t stop her tantrum? Needing to replace out, he pinched her t-shirt and rugged it up to reveal her stomach. She inhaled sharply, making her flat abdomen clench.

He scrutinized her small waist, replaceing himself struggling to keep his thoughts methodical.

This female’s belly was muscle-less, scale-less, scar-less. There was nothing but two generous curves on her sides, a tidy belly button, and smooth, dark flesh.

Her weakness was so alluring that it almost served as a strength.

Remembering the task at hand, he scanned her back for any signs of injury. There was nothing visible, making him wonder if the injury was internal. Placing his hand flat on her stomach, he began to gently probe at the area.

The female remained tense, eyes cowering behind her lids.

“Tiny,” he grumbled with displeasure when he noticed just how large his palm was in comparison to her stomach.

He was an ocean, and she was an insignificant boat sailing on it.

It took a few seconds for him to move his attention back to her face. The furrow that had been terrorizing her brows was gone, leaving the flatline of peace.

She was enjoying this.

He continued the massage, telling himself that he was pleasing her to shut her up. It was when he realized that he was kneading her skin, enjoying the warm, homely alien flesh, that he ripped his hand away.

“Move,” he barked over his shoulder.

It was time.

He had fueled the fire, fed the girl, and scanned the perimeter for predators.

Finally, he was in the clear to execute his mission.

The female stared at the distance, her mind wandering, guard low, and her body open for the taking. She didn’t turn when he stood from the ground, probably thinking that he was going to check the perimeter once more.

He surprised her by setting his large palms on her delicate shoulders and pushing her down. It didn’t take much strength to over-power her. Her body was insignificant, completely at his mercy.

He had thought about this position many times. Usually, when he fought a beast, his body pumped with satisfying adrenaline. Forcing the miniature female to her back swarmed him with the opposite effect. A thousand toxins pruned his gut, making him want to retch.

Rape was against everything his father taught him. This was dishonorable.

But it is a necessity. The Ezronian race cannot go extinct.

She cried, clawed at him with her dull nails, kicked with her short legs. She frantically fought for her dignity, putting the few defenses that nature granted to use. There wasn’t much for her to work with. She wasn’t designed to be a fighter.

"No,” she ranted in her alien language, the foreign words adding to her vulnerability.

“I will be quick,” he found himself promising.

There was a darkness in his voice, a plague of unknown emotions. His voice was thicker and heavier than his cock, which laid limp between his thighs. The muscle was as disinterested in rape as his heart.

He kept her shoulders pinned, waiting for his inner conflict to settle.

“Enough,” he grunted, trying to bark away his uncertainty.

He reached for the cloth that covered her chest, planning on ripping it off. In a move of desperation, the female clutched his wrist.

His skin prickled. It felt like the eyes of the fates were on him, glaring and judging. While the world watched him, the girl was blind, her irises drowned in a sea of despair.

I must do this. It is my duty.

Dark always comes before dawn.

I must plant the seed of the future.

No.

He ripped his hands away.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t force her. There had to be some other way.

The female crawled away, mopping leaves into her hair and clothes as she curled into a ball and clutched her belly.

His skin burned, considering melting off his body. Never had he felt so filthy.

The girl’s cries continued until the dead of night. He knew that trauma played a part in her distress but wasn’t sure if she was clutching her belly because she was in pain again.

He looked at his large palms, and then at the small ball of female. Hesitantly, he walked to her side and sank to his knees. She tensed instantly, sucking air into her lungs as she prepared to fight him once more. He tried to gently ease a hand over her womb to massage it like he had earlier in the day, but she crawled away.

With the realization that he had caused irreparable damage, he remained where he stood.

Nebula sobbed, angry at the unfairness of it all. She had been ripped from her home, and was now the captive of a rape-enthusiast. How many days did she have left until he decided that he was done being the good guy and tried to rape her again?

She wouldn’t survive it. It would break her.

She gave the alien her back, gripping a rock with a bloodthirsty embrace. The next time he tried to soil her dignity, she’d be ready to smash his temple in. His unwelcome cock would not ease into her whimpering body. She’ll be kicking, screaming, and scratching. She’ll be ready next time.

Her lack of muscle didn’t make her inferior. It was the mind and the spirit that ruled dominance.

Stop crying. You need to get your guard up, she tried to tell herself.

Respecting this thought was impossible. She was too overwhelmed with horror and outrage to keep herself together. Peace wouldn’t come tonight, not when she was under the scrutiny of evil.

When he first threw her over his shoulder and took her away from Kira, she had been hopeful. The alien hadn’t hit her, only scowled and yelled threats in his guttural language. Tonight, though, a line had been crossed. He had raised an offensive hand at her, giving a signed certification of how despicable he was.

She hated him for even attempting to degrade her.

Hours later, her storm of sobs became an earthquake of hiccups. The sun was waking up, meaning that her captor would want to get a move on soon.

Nebula rose, her eyes searching for the enemy. He was by the exhausted fire, only four feet away. His proximity made her breath hitch, and she instinctively clutched her rock tighter.

He was on his knees, bare from the waist up as he always was, reminding her of the force he used to pin her down. His hands were on his thighs and his head bowed.

Was he meditating? Praying?

Sorry, asshole, but I’m pretty sure that God doesn’t like rapists.

She stood up slowly and relocated to another spot on the fire, wanting to put some space between them. When he stood and followed her, keeping his eyes on the ground before falling to his knees four feet away from her, she understood what he was doing.

He was asking for forgiveness.

With a scowl, she kicked the dirt, spraying his chest with blackness.

“Fuck you.”