Abducted by an Alien Savage

by Ivy McAdams

  Waella nods and the two stand, busying themselves cleaning up their breakfasts and ushering Gemma to do the same.

  “I still can’t believe there’s a ceremony for me,” Gemma says in a hushed voice, then giggles. “This is going to be fun!”

  The women pull her away and she gives me a flickering finger wave.

  I lift a hand with a small smile.

  Her energy is high, stretching for me.

  I’m not sure whether the other females have slipped her some spirits or something, but I’m glad she’s excited. I will be sure she enjoys herself at the ceremony. And after.

  I have a lot to learn about her mating rituals, but I intend to. I wish to stake my claim soon. I’ve gone from mild curiosity and wanting to follow my Shaman’s orders to being completely addicted to her and her energy waves. I just hope she feels the same.

  I haven’t been able to determine that yet. She let me take her back to my bed and lick her cunt until she was screaming. And yet, she also acted as if she wanted nothing more to do with me.

  I knew from the beginning that she was a special case as far as the courting and mating. The Shaman wants her pregnant as soon as possible, and that’s my job as her appointed caretaker.

  But it didn’t take long for me to realize that she has a lot more to offer than a womb.

  And I want her to offer it to me.

  Dutifully planting my seed within her as instructed does not appeal to me. I want to mate her properly.

  To make her mine.

  Gemma

  By the time the sun is setting behind the tall blue mountains on the horizon, I’ve been with Kaami and Waella for most of the morning and afternoon, and I am fully decked out.

  I feel like I’m about to walk the red carpet. Where’s my paparazzi, baby? Mama’s ready for her close-up.

  My simple leather top and loincloth have been traded for a long flowing skirt made out of some sort of hide I’d almost mistake as silk. Kaami tells me it’s from one of the sea beasts off the coast. The skirt is white and slinky, dotted with tiny jewels, and has a slit running from my ankle to my hip bone. It would feel horribly revealing if I hadn’t been wearing a loincloth for days.

  Over my chest, they've wrapped me in a strip of the same silky leather. It's tight over my breasts, crossing over my sternum and encircling my neck like a fancy, jeweled halter top. Below the rib-line, more jeweled leather hangs gently against my skin, ending just above my belly button.

  The women also braid and arrange my long black hair in some sort of intricate weaving. I can’t see it, but Waella worked on it for hours, and Kaami gave her hearty approval. Then they added jewels and flowers. A little purple paint to my chin and cheekbones―as is tradition, they insist.

  Despite how crazy this whole alien situation is, I’m looking forward to the celebration. Bring on the traditions, the food, and the dancing. After waking up in a different freaking body and waiting for my strange nightmare to end, I’m ready to embrace things a little. I can easily dig for information on my magic voodoo herb while enjoying the party they’re throwing for me.

  For me!

  Spending the day with my new friends has been fun, even though having my mind distracted away from my human friends and mission does stab me with a little guilt.

  But I push it away. There’s no point in being miserable the entire time I’m trying to figure this out.

  I may only have a few days to work with, but it’s not as if I can go running off into the world looking with zero direction. I’ve memorized some of the layout of the planet from our maps and studies at school, but looking at illustrations and satellite images and being plopped into the middle of it are two very different things.

  I can’t take a chance and hope for the best with only days left.

  I grimace inwardly at the thought. Days.

  Four more days if my previous calculations of the moon location are correct.

  Oh my God.

  I could be stuck like this forever.

  While the ladies busy themselves with the last of their beautifying, I decide to steer our conversation in that direction.

  “I can’t believe I’m the first body swapper. Your healer can sure do some fancy work.”

  Kaami nods. “That he can.”

  “Does he try this, you know, brain swap thing often?”

  Her eyes come up to mine this time. “No. Just whenever he has a subject and his magic on hand.”

  “Does he have magic? I thought he used a plant.”

  Kaami frowns as she considers my words.

  It’s Waella who speaks up. “He does use herbs in a lot of his magic.”

  Here we go. A little progress.

  “But it’s not always available?”

  “It’s a rare herb. Only the Shaman can get it.”

  “Interesting. I thought he’d send one of his helpers to fetch it for him.”

  Waella drops her eyes as she busies herself with one of my braids. “I don’t think they are privy to that information.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  But someone is. I’m willing to bet there’s more than just one person in this damn village that knows, and I may just have to sweet talk my way into their good graces.

  I'm so preoccupied with my planning, that I don't even notice when the ladies stand back to look at me.

  Kaami smiles and claps her hands.

  I force out a smile, a new tinge of guilt hitting me. Plotting the fastest way to leave these people in my dust probably isn’t the best way to show my thanks to my new friends.

  “You look wonderful,” Kaami says as she takes my hands.

  No more counting moon phases and letting fear creep up on me tonight. I set my mind back on the wonderful evening I’m going to have.

  “Thank you for helping me,” I say with a smile.

  I’m going to rock my party. My clothes are revealing, but beautiful. I feel both fabulous and a little dirty. Perfect.

  “One last touch,” Waella says as she lifts her smaller frame up on her toes and places a pair of purple flowers in my hair.

  They have uniquely rolled petals, and she weaves them in delicately.

  “What are―” I want to ask, but the smell tickles my nose as soon as she steps away. A faint aroma that reminds me of cinnamon and immediately grabs my attention.

  I don’t know what they look like up there but I definitely feel even more attractive. My mind flitters to Kovak, and I can’t wait to show him.

  I wonder what he's wearing to the celebration. It can be the same ol' loincloth for all I care. So long I can see his big chest and broad shoulders. Maybe run my hands over them when no one is looking. And so I can catch a glimpse of that ass once in a while.

  My body is reacting strongly to his image in my head. Then I remember the other women are present, and a blush lifts into my cheeks.

  Oh, shit.

  Kaami covers her mouth to hide her soft giggle. Her eyes are twinkling, and she’s having a hard time keeping her amusement hidden.

  “These are our Beauty in Paradise Flowers. Sacred to the Kutarians.”

  Despite standing in front of the other two, I can't get the image of a half-naked―or let's face it, mostly naked―Kovak out of my head, and a hot dampness is gathering between my legs. My skin feels prickly and my nipples ache where my top presses against them.

  What the hell?

  “Get them out of my hair. I think I’m allergic to them.”

  Kaami laughs a little louder, and even Waella joins in.

  “You’re fine, Gem-ma,” Kaami says. “The Beauty in Paradise is a pheromone flower. You may feel a little...aroused.”

  My eyes widen. Excuse me?

  “You just Viagraed me?”

  She tilts her head, unsure of what I mean, but her grin is huge.

  Great. This is just what I need. To be presented in front of the whole tribe while horny and itchy.

  I reach a hand up to feel for the flowers―these things need t
o go!―but Kaami puts her hand on mine to still it.

  “The effects will be in your system for a couple of hours, whether you remove them or not. The Shaman would insist you wear them.”

  “Oh my God, why?” I’m getting sick of this shaman fellow.

  “Women wear the Beauty in Paradise for their coming-of-age ceremonies. Or for their formal mating announcement.”

  So instead of an open bar at their weddings, they wear pheromone flowers? Damn, these aliens like to party.

  “But this isn’t a mating announcement. It’s only a…” My voice trails off as I take in Kaami’s slightly lifted brow.

  Wait. It isn’t a mating announcement, is it?

  I swallow a flare of nerves. “Kovak said it’s to celebrate bringing in more women. Because the brain transfer thingy worked. Isn’t that what’s going on tonight?”

  “Officially,” Waella says.

  My eyes jump from her back to Kaami. “But unofficially?”

  “No one has mentioned a mating ceremony yet that I know of,” Kammi says. “Although I have certainly heard the buzz of Kovak taking you back to his hut last night.”

  There’s a teasing smile on her lips, and I’m blushing again. I have no idea why. I can run off and do whatever I want with Kovak, can’t I?

  I mean, we didn’t actually do much. Not anything that would get us in trouble. It was just third base, right?

  Sure, the aliens don’t have baseball, but they have to recognize bases, don’t they?

  My heart thumps uncomfortably.

  What constitutes as agreeing to be mates around here?

  My hands clench and my mouth is parched.

  “Sure, I mean, we did kinda go back to his place to hang out for a bit.”

  “Hang out?”

  Is she making a crude joke at me or do they not say that here?

  “Visited...one another.”

  I look back and forth between the women, my hair swishing with the movement and another waft of the pheromone flowers hits my nose.

  Not only am I sinking in a hole of nerves and itchy embarrassment, but I still can’t get Kovak’s naked torso out of my mind. A trickle of sweat rolls down my spine and I try to push his image out of my head.

  Even though I want to imagine what it would have been like last night if I didn't stop him. What he would look like fully naked in the firelight.

  What does alien junk look like anyway? It felt like a normal, but huge, cock pressed against my fingers.

  Damn, I should have let him stick it in me.

  Oh my God. How do I get these thoughts out of my head?

  I press the heel of my hand to my scaly temple, feeling as if I’m being swallowed by the women’s smiling faces, the flower’s sharp sweet scent, and my own damn regret.

  Then something moves at the edge of my vision and I can feel him.

  My head pops up and Kovak is standing there, staring at me as if he’s never seen me before. Big, round eyes, slack mouth.

  He’s wearing his loincloth over a pair of leather breeches and a fancy-looking necklace of bones and beads that hangs around his neck and across his chest.

  He looks stunning, and all the turmoil that’s been rattling around in my brain vanishes.

  I nearly trip in my rush to him and he takes my hand in his, gazing down at me as he pulls me close.

  “You look beautiful,” he murmurs with a whisper of a smile.

  As if my brain wasn’t kooky enough already that evening.

  The horny-issue is totally not getting better and I have so many questions about this mating thing. Let’s add that sweet fluttery feeling I get when his green eyes glimmer at me like that.

  Oy vey.

  Chapter 14

  Kovak

  Gemma looks amazing. The smile on her face that morning at breakfast was radiant. I could have looked at it for hours. But now, she's glowing. The females did a great job preparing her for the ceremony, and I'm proud to walk to the square with her at my side.

  They could have left off the Beauty of Paradise Flowers though.

  When I put an arm around her waist to lead her away, not only do her energy waves pulse a beat at me that I cannot ignore but the flowers reach out with their magic chemicals to twist my body to their will. As if I need any encouragement to find Gemma overwhelmingly attractive.

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my body in check and still the hot twitch in my cock.

  With a subtle shift of my head, I peer down into the criss-cross opening of Gemma’s top, to the top swells of her breasts. They’re accentuated by the tight cloth, and I want to press my palms against them so bad I can barely stand it.

  Gemma jumps when my fingers close tighter over the flesh on her hip.

  Whoops.

  She catches me staring, and I grin sheepishly at her. She only perks a sly eyebrow.

  Oh gods.

  The smile falls from my face and my hand tightens on her again.

  I want to stop here in the row of residential huts and push her up against one to dig my hands into that top. To kiss her so hard it’ll steal every bit of breath from her body. Fuck her mouth with my tongue until she’s limp in my arms. Then carry her off to our hut once more, this time burying my cock so deep inside her that she’ll be mine forever.

  The extra room in my breeches has vanished and things are growing uncomfortably tight. And hot.

  Dammit.

  I want her more than ever.

  My eyes flick to the stupid flowers in her hair.

  How am I supposed to escort her at this ceremony if I can’t get my cock under control? I won’t be able to keep my hands off her.

  The flowers are old practice, offerings to those gods who bless us with fertility. The Shaman would insist she wear them. My lip curls at the thought, but it can’t be helped.

  Instead, I focus everything I have on walking us the rest of the way to the central square.

  Her eyes are already jumping around at the bright decorations that have turned the space into a festival. Brightly colored tapestries and the blue and green fire. Strings of jewels stretching overhead from one side of the square to the other. Tables holding large amounts of food. Other Kutarians dressed beautifully.

  She smiles up at me, and my body warms. Tucked there underneath my arm, pressed against my side, with her spirited eyes gazing up at me, she looks perfect. A woman made just for me.

  I smile back.

  A sharp horn blast makes her jump with a shriek. She spins, looking for the source.

  The Shaman stands near the middle of the square, a large, hollow dinosaur tooth in his hand. The horn sounds four more times.

  We’re being summoned.

  “It is time, Gemma.”

  Her energy is a mix of excitement and nerves, bouncing all around. With my hand still pressed into her side, I lead her into the square and to the platform standing in the middle next to the central fire. The Shaman is standing alongside it, waiting for us.

  We step up on the wide raised rock and look out over the gathering Kutarians. The Chief sits on a throne woven of gnarled faded-purple tree branches, front and center of the platform. He wears a crown of feathers and bones. The smaller seat next to him is empty, as it has been for the last year.

  I give the Chief a half bow at the hips. He returns it.

  Gemma mimics my movements. The Chief’s eyebrow twitches slightly as he hesitates, then he gives her a bow too.

  The Shaman joins us on the platform. His eyes are locked on Gemma and he’s beaming, just as much as the last time we saw him. As if she’s his greatest accomplishment ever. Which she may very well be, but there’s something about the way he stares at her as if she is just a piece of his puzzle that pisses me off.

  “Good evening, Kutarians,” he calls out as he moves to stand next to her.

  I fall back behind them a step and stand quietly, though I can’t help when my eyes wander along her body. Her tail is adorned with gold rings and lines of purple paint. Simple,
elegant. It flicks back and forth with her nerves. Then my gaze lands on the uncovered small of her back. That soft skin. I’ve touched it. I rub my fingers together discreetly.

  “I present you with a beautiful miracle,” the Shaman continues. “A new hope for the future.”

  There are whispers in the crowd. I see faces brighten when I look up.

  All the men know, of course. They all saw the aliens being brought in. Word that one of the aliens successfully body swapped with a Kutarian woman would have spread even faster.

  Perhaps none let their hopes get too high until now.

  “This is Gem-ma. The first to awake.”

  Gemma fidgets a little but lifts a hand to wave. The warriors whoop and wave back.

  “There are six others, and we have high hopes all of them will cross over.”

  Gemma’s shoulders tense slightly and the positive energy radiating from her shifts, but I can still see the edge of the smile stuck to her face.

  She doesn’t like it up here on the platform. Or at least being presented by the Shaman. The instinct to scoop her up and carry her away from all the eyes is strong, but I know better than to cross the Shaman.

  His magic is a force I do not mess with. He can create miracles but he can also cause destruction. I have seen it. I'm too close to winning my mate and starting a family to risk my life and fortune now.

  “So in celebration of the new Kutarian future, let us feast and drink to Gem-ma!”

  The crowd cheers. The Shaman takes her stiff hand and makes a display of kissing the back of it. The Chief lifts his chin, watching the presentation in silence as a few of the warriors begin to chant her name.

  Just what I need now. All the hunters are hungry.

  Gemma

  I’ve spotted the shaman’s apprentice a few times―the one that was there when I woke up in my new body. Something tells me he’s my best bet on getting answers on the body-snatching herb.

  Unfortunately, he won’t stay still and I keep getting otherwise distracted.

  Kovak and I move around the square, meeting new people and listening to them praise their gods for me and my fellow human-turned-alien-babymakers, and I find myself at peace. Enjoying slipping my hand into Kovak’s every so often. Looking him up and down with an appreciation that flutters my pulse.