The Alien’s Collar Cover Reveal…
“I can’t… it’s too much…please…”
She mewled desperate words, her throat raw with the effort of crying both her desire for and rebellion against the alien who held her prisoner. The only thing she was more afraid of than what he was about to do, was the possibility that he might not do it. She tipped her head back, her face lifted to his, her eyes locked in a pleading gaze as she simultaneously begged for and writhed in fear of what he would bring out of her.
She had been a modern woman. She had owned a smart phone and sipped iced coffee through a straw and sent little snippets of video filtered with panda bear ears through to her friends who replied with glittering abbreviated phrases. She had spent hours lifting her phone up to just the right angle and looking at herself in various digital lights until she found a version of herself that was good enough to share.
Now she was naked under the glow of a thousand stars, the curves of her body displayed in an arch against the masculine frame which made hers seem so soft, so small, so very tender and vulnerable. The alien male who held her was nearly twice her size, his large hands roaming her body, cupping her breasts, finding the plane of her stomach and rounding the curve of her hip to clasp her bottom.
She was stripped of everything. Her clothes, all the trappings of the world from which she had been taken, her very sense of what it meant to be woman. He had taken everything and left her with nothing but the elemental truth of her animal nature.