Conquered, Chapter 3

Kal-El, Chloe AU
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Read the previous chapter here.
Read the story from the beginning here.

If food was what Chloe required to have sex with him, then he would bring her food.

Not him personally, of course. He was the commander of this vessel, and as such he did not set foot in the galley. In fact, he did not even know where the galley was.

But he raised his voice and spoke in Kryptonian, ordering his guest a sumptuous meal via the comm system, and then smiled at her.

"Food is coming."

"Great," she muttered. "How about some clothes?"

"Clothing?" He blinked at her. "Why?"

She shook her head, and once again he had the feeling she thought of him as an idiot child rather than a galactic conqueror. "You're wearing clothes," she pointed out.

He grinned. "That can be corrected."

"No. No, no, no. Do not take off your clothes, okay? I don't want to see you naked."

He chuckled. "I am wounded by your lack of interest."

She didn't seem amused. "Look, commander... I'm just not the nudist type. I need clothes."

His smile faded, and he sighed. These Earthers had a peculiar worldview, to be sure. He raised his voice again and spoke with an underling, asking for a selection of feminine clothing to be delivered to his quarters as well.

Within moments, a centurion had wheeled in a cart full of food. Kal-El noticed Chloe covering herself with the sheet, right up to her chin, rather to his amusement. His people were not body conscious, but plainly her people were. Seconds later, a second centurion came in bearing an armload of brightly colored fabrics. And then the centurions bustled out of his quarters, leaving him alone with her.

"Food first?" he inquired. "Or do you wish to be clothed first?"

She glared at him as if she wished there were a third option-- murdering him. He could understand that readily enough. He had just conquered her world, after all, and he didn't expect her to like him.

But she would never see her world again, and she needed to resign herself to that fact.

"Clothes," she mumbled at last.

He sorted through the pile rapidly. There were a number of dark-colored jumpsuits, the usual attire on the ship. He put them aside. She was too lovely, too exotic, to wear something ordinary. He pulled out a flowing, jewel green gown and held it out to her. She blinked at it, recoiling as if he were offering her a poisonous reptile.

"You have got to be kidding me."

He frowned. "I do not understand the problem."

"Of course you don't. And I don't know why I'm surprised, anyway. Of course you'd expect me to dress up like a strumpet."

His frown deepened. He had thought he understood the dominant language of her planet fairly well, but her idioms kept leaving him bewildered. He couldn't grasp why she would say he wanted her to dress up like a musical instrument.

No, wait-- that was a trumpet. What a strumpet might be, he had no idea.

"Look," she said, sounding as if she were struggling for patience, "I'm not going to have sex with you. I'm just not. And dressing me up in sexy outfits isn't going to make me more willing."

"Regardless,," he said, still holding it out to her, "I wish to admire you. And of all these clothes, this gown best accentuates your beauty."

"My beauty." She rolled her eyes. "You really are an alien, aren't you?"

He blinked. "Are you not considered beautiful on your own world?"

"Hardly. I'm just an ordinary girl."

She wasn't beautiful by Kryptonian standards either, not exactly. But there was something about her that called to him, on so deep a level that it scared him a little. As many women as he'd had, he'd never found one that attracted him so much.

"You are far from ordinary, Chloe Sullivan," he said, very softly. "Now please, put on the gown."

She stared at him for a long moment. At last, a small smile quirked up one side of her mouth.

"I never expected an alien overlord to say please," she commented.

"I told you, you are not a slave, nor are your people. We only wish to improve your lives."

"And to get your hands on certain useful qualities of our planet."

Her eyes were accusing, and he lowered his gaze, feeling slightly ashamed by his own efforts to rationalize the Empire's actions. Of course the Empire had not conquered her planet for its own good, but for the Empire's good. And in the grand scheme of things, it was the Kryptonian Empire and all its people that mattered.

He might not like conquering lesser worlds, but it was his duty, and he would never shirk his duty.

She sighed, as if giving up on the argument, and took the gown from his hands. She stood up, giving him a very clear view of all her charms, from her long golden hair to her dainty toes.

He liked what he saw. His cock began to throb with a slow, aching pulse of need.

She pulled on the gown. It was low cut, exposing much of her breasts, but the skirt cascaded almost to the floor, concealing her lovely legs from his hungry view. He stared at what the gown did expose with avid interest, and she glared at him.

"So," she said, rather crankily. "Do I get to eat, or are you going to rape me first?"

He still wasn't clear on what rape meant. The idea that anyone might object to having sex was so alien that it bewildered him. But clearly the term meant something to her, so he shrugged, trying to tamp down his body's reaction, and gestured at the cart.

"Eat, Chloe."

She lifted one of the lids off a tray and sniffed cautiously, then picked up a piece of meat and nibbled daintily at it. "Not bad," she said.

She sank down on the bed and ate, and he watched, staring avidly, intrigued by the way she bit into food, and by the way she licked her fingers. Everything this woman did fascinated him.

Everything she did aroused him.

After she had eaten for a few moments, she looked over at him and spoke.

"So, commander. Tell me. What exactly do you do with your slaves besides have sex with them?"

"I told you, you are not a--"

"Right, right, I'm not a slave." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Just an honored guest. Whatever you want to call it, commander, I seem to be stuck on your vessel. So what exactly is my purpose here?"

He shrugged. "You are mine."

"Oh, yay." She picked up a folen, a purple vegetable, and bit into it. "So basically, I sit around your quarters all day, waiting for your noble commanding self to show up and rape me?"

Rape again. Really, she seemed quite disturbed by the concept. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "What work did you perform on your own planet?"

"I was a reporter for the Daily Planet," she answered. "The best newspaper in the world. I reported the news, and I was damn good at it."

He considered her words, and tried to relate them to his own society. "You appeared on video?"

"No, I wrote articles."

He nodded. For the first time he realized how difficult this must be for her. She had been trained for a particular job, had likely worked for years to attain her position, and now that job was simply gone. He imagined she felt as if her purpose had been stripped from her along with her world.

He wondered vaguely what he himself would do if he could no longer be in the military. But he'd been groomed for this position all his life, and he couldn't quite imagine himself doing anything else.

She ate, and he remained quiet, watching her. At last she wiped her hands on a cloth napkin, and sighed.

"Okay," she said. "I'm done."

His body still ached, but he ignored it, and stood up.

"Then I will leave you for a while," he said. "I have much work to do."

"But I thought--" She blurted the words out, then fell silent, and he could see the hope of a reprieve in her golden eyes. He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, smiling at her.

He did want to have sex with her. But even in this short conversation, he'd realized how much she disliked the idea. And even though her beliefs were entirely alien to him, the notion of forcing himself upon her repelled him.

He very much liked this woman's spirit. The last thing he wanted to do was break it.

"Chloe Sullivan," he said, very gently. "I give you my word as a Kryptonian. I will not have sex with you until you want me to."

Read Chapter 4 here.