Was that the purpose of the food? To make their skin glow? Maybe to make them more visible to the judges and the audience at the show?
Well, what’s the big deal about that? Other than it will probably make it harder if we try to escape by night. But hopefully it will have worn off by then.
Whitney wondered in irritation why Dood had felt the need to warn Rafe and make her worry all for nothing. So what if her skin glowed a little bit now—why was that a problem? Also, she felt great—tingly all over. And the special food had been delicious—even now she wished she could have some more. So where was the downside to eating it?
If there was one, Whitney couldn’t see it.
“And now, let’s move on to the Judgment of Aesthetics part of our show,” the announcer was saying. “And I’m pleased to say we have May-Bell back with us this year—one of our prime tweedle breeders who always has the most interesting offerings when she comes.”
“Thank you, Tal-Bea,” Mama Tusker said from her place standing behind the cages. “And I’m happy to say I have some really unusual specimens with me today. But first, let me introduce you to a crowd favorite.”
Her long blue trunk reached over the top of the cage and effortlessly unlocked the door. It came seeking inside like a blind snake and Whitney crammed herself further back into the corner to avoid being captured.
Oh my God—we’re first and I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing!
She didn’t mind public presentations at all—if she was prepared for them. And also, of course, if she had clothes on while giving them. But being brought out in front of hundreds of giant aliens in only her Birthday suit when she had no idea what to do was going to suck hard.
Luckily, however, the trunk curled around Beauty instead. The tweedle girl was extracted from the cage without a peep, her long platinum-blonde hair swaying as Mama Tusker lifted her and placed her on the vast table with its white tablecloth. She just stood there blinking and looking around herself with a dazed expression while the Tuskers ooed and ahed over her.
“This is my show tweedle, Beauty, for those of you who are new to the show this year,” Mama Tusker announced proudly. “As you can see, her top pelt is long and luxurious—a very rare color. She’s given me five litters in the three years I’ve had her and I expect to see more soon since I’ll be breeding her at the show today. I will be happy to entertain offers for her cubs if anyone wants to approach me privately.”
A babble of voices broke out—sounding like the side of a mountain crashing down into a ravine to Whitney. But somehow she found the loud noise didn’t bother her so much. She felt more inward-focused now and much calmer than she had a minute before. If all she had to do was stand there and let the Tuskers admire her, the show would be a piece of cake.
Everything’s going to be okay, she told herself serenely. You can handle this, Whitney—just stay calm.
And that was when Beauty started reaching between her legs and moaning as she rubbed herself frantically.
“Oh my!” Mama Tusker burbled. “It seems my little Beauty is ready to conceive a litter right now. Here—I’ll take her to the breeding pen so we can all watch. She always does such a lovely job!”
And then the long blue trunk curled around the moaning tweedle girl once more and carried her away, depositing her into the empty cage, not far from Whitney’s own.
“See? I told you the special food makes ‘em horny as hell.” Dood was full of anticipation, rubbing his hands together and flipping his long mane of auburn hair over one shoulder in preparation for what was to come.
And what was to come was apparently a public breeding, in front of all the assembled Tuskers in the audience, Rafe thought grimly.
“So she has to be bred—like a female animal in heat?” he demanded, speaking from the corner of his mouth as surreptitiously as possible, as Mama Tusker deposited the female tweedle into the empty cage near the front of the platform.
“Uh-huh. If she doesn’t get bred, she’ll get sick—maybe even die.” Dood didn’t sound unhappy at the prospect at all. “That’s where I come in. I’ll plow her little pussy good and shoot her full of my cum. It’s the only thing that eases the ache you know—having their pussies filled to the brim with male seed,” he added helpfully, though Rafe hadn’t asked.
“Those effects sound most uncomfortable for the female,” he said neutrally. “Why does Mama need to give her special food at all? Why not just rely on the tweedle weed—doesn’t it have the same result?”
“Not right away and it doesn’t force the female to need sex,” Dood said. “This way the breeding is guaranteed and Mama can start taking bids on the possible litter.”
“Those are your children she is going to be selling,” Rafe pointed out, glaring at the other male. “Don’t you care about that? Don’t you care what happens to them?”
Dood shrugged. “Even if I did, what can I do about it? Besides, with a Mindless One as a mother, they’ll all probably be mindless themselves. Which means they’ll live the happy, pampered life as a cherished pet. What more could I ask for them?”
Freedom! Rafe wanted to say but just then the huge blue trunk snaked into their cage and wrapped around Dood’s waist.
“Wish me luck,” Dood murmured, giving Rafe a wink. And then he too was put into the large cage with Beauty while the watching Tuskers leaned forward on their stools and stared intently.
The minute she saw Dood—or rather, smelled him, because she lifted her head and sniffed the air deeply as he was deposited in the cage beside her—Beauty came running. Rafe watched in disbelief as she pressed against the other male’s thighs and took his already hard shaft in her mouth, sucking desperately.
Then she released him and got on her hands and knees, kneeling to present her pussy for his invasion—an invitation Dood wasn’t long in taking.
As he thrust into her, Beauty mewed and cried, almost like a female cat in heat, backing to meet him as though she simply couldn’t get enough of his cock in her.
Rafe shook his head at the wanton display. He was damn glad he’d warned Whitney not to eat the special food. If he had been forced to service her the way Dood was servicing Beauty, it would have been damn hard to keep from coming in her and forming a life-Bond, which all Kindred had with their mates.
And if he formed a Bond with her, he wouldn’t be able to stop from giving his heart, of that he was sure. He was already too close to loving her—he didn’t need to risk getting any closer.
“Well—they appear to be enjoying themselves,” Mama Tusker announced, breaking into his thoughts, as Dood and Beauty continued to breed. “But now I have something really special to show you. A rare breed even I have never seen before. Behold, my new little female whom I have named Lovely.”
And then the blue trunk disappeared into the cage next to his and came out holding Whitney by the waist. Rafe watched, his heart in his mouth as she was placed gently down on the white cloth which covered the table-like platform for all the Tuskers to admire.
Rafe’s protective instincts went into overdrive and he was very aware that Mama Tusker hadn’t properly shut the door of his travel cage when she took Dood out. Whitney was only a few feet away—so close! He had to hold himself back from running to her, not wanting to risk suspicious behavior in front of so many watching Tuskers.
Don’t worry, he told himself uneasily. Everything is going to be fine—it’s going to be over soon.
He had no idea how very wrong he was.
Twenty-Nine
Whitney felt wrong inside. Well, not wrong exactly, just different. Really, really different.
The tingling which had been spread all over her body at first, seemed to have moved inwards, centering in the tips of her breasts and the tender area between her thighs. It was almost a throbbing now—an incessant need. She found herself squeezing her legs together tightly to try and ease the ache and made herself stop.
Everyone is watching you, she reminded herself uneasil
y. It’s bad enough that you’re naked—you don’t need to be acting weird on top of it!
But the fact was, she felt weird and she was feeling weirder all the time. The ache between her legs was getting stronger and she felt empty inside—like she needed desperately to be filled. She started to reach between her thighs and caught herself just before she did.
God, what’s wrong with you? Stop it! she told herself angrily. Just ignore it and it’ll go away.
But the need didn’t go away—it only grew. Despite the watching faces of the assembled Tuskers, all of their trunks waving in interest, Whitney found herself reaching between her thighs again. God, if only she could get some relief from this ache! Her clit felt so sensitive it was almost painful—yet she couldn’t seem to stop touching it.
Touching yourself—you’re touching yourself in front of all these strangers! Touching yourself in public! shouted a little voice in her head. But Whitney couldn’t make herself care. She only knew that she was aching inside and her body was demanding to be filled, to be satisfied in some way—only she didn’t know how to satisfy it.
“Oh my, well it seems that Lovely is ready to breed too.” The voice of Mama Tusker seemed to come from a long way away—echoing down a tunnel Whitney suddenly found herself in.
Is she talking about me? she wondered hazily. What is she saying?
“Lovely is part of a matched pair but her mate isn’t nearly as rare and exotic as she is,” Mama Tusker continued. “I brought him with me today but my good friend and fellow breeder Me-Me has kindly offered me the stud services of her prize-winning stud male, Bumbo. So I think—”
But just then, Rafe was right beside her. He gathered Whitney into his arms and held on tight, pressing her face to his chest. The move couldn’t have been more possessive or more clear than if he had shouted, “MINE!” at the top of his lungs.
There were murmurs from the crowd and Mama Tusker said, “Oh my!”
“Rafe?” Whitney looked up at him uncertainly and pressed her body closer to his. Somehow she knew he was exactly what she needed. “Rafe, what…what’s happening?”
“Nothing we can’t handle. Hang on, mon’dalla,” Rafe murmured in her ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her take you. You’re staying right here with me. That I swear.”
“Well, well—how did he get loose?” Mama Tusker sounded perplexed as she looked down at them from her great height. “This is Lovely’s paired mate, everyone,” she explained to the audience. “He must have scented her heat and come to be with her, the naughty boy!”
The audience laughed at her tone of exasperated affection but Rafe just held Whitney tighter, waiting to hear their fate. If they tried to take her away from him he would fight, he told himself. Fight until he died if necessary but he would never let another male touch her, let alone breed her. Never!
She must have eaten some of the special food before I could warn her, he thought despairingly as she writhed against him, moaning with desire. Damn it—how much did she eat? Will I really have to breed her? To fill her with my seed?
“Rafe, please!” Whitney squirmed against him. “Please, I need…need…”
She didn’t finish her sentence but she didn’t have to. He already knew what she needed—the question was, would he be allowed to give it to her or would their alien captor try to give her to another?
Thirty
“Well, with many thanks to my friend Me-Me, I’m afraid we’ll just have to let Lovely breed with her regular mate this time,” Mama Tusker said and Rafe sighed deeply, as though he was relieved.
Whitney wasn’t feeling relieved though—not in any way. The idea of being paired with some other male seemed distant and far away. The special food was in full effect in her system now and all she could think about was how good Rafe smelled—his spicy, masculine scent surrounded her and made her feel even more needy and swollen between her legs. Somehow she knew she had to get closer to that scent.
He had loosed his hold on her a bit and she was able to wriggle out of his arms and drop to her knees before him. She rubbed her face against him, breathing deeply, taking in his scent. Yes, this was what she needed—here, right here.
“Whitney, wait!” Rafe muttered under his breath. But before the big Kindred could protest any more, she took his shaft—which was barely hard at all—and sucked it into her mouth.
Because he wasn’t even semi-erect, she was able to take almost all of him in. His flavor was salty and slightly bitter and completely delicious—completely Rafe. Whitney hummed happily and sucked deeply, stroking his rapidly growing shaft with her tongue, urging him to get harder so he could give her what she really wanted—what she needed so damn badly.
“Whitney, no,” he muttered again and tried to lift her to her feet. But Whitney refused to go. Her nipples were throbbing and her pussy was aching—his strong, masculine scent was filling her to the brim with overwhelming desire. She no longer cared about the sea of watching faces or the fact that they were in public. She only knew that she had to have him—had to have him now.
“Gods, mon’dalla,” Rafe murmured hoarsely and she felt his hands stroking her hair and cupping her cheeks as she sucked him hungrily. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he told her softly. “But if you really need to…”
Whitney looked up at him and nodded. I do—I really do. I need to taste you—to make you hard, she wanted to say. But somehow the words wouldn’t come. She was too filled with emotion to turn her feelings into sentences, she found. She could only suck his long, thick shaft which was growing longer and thicker every second until she could barely fit even the head in her mouth.
At last, when he was hard and throbbing against her tongue, she tasted a salty drop of his precum and something inside her told her it was time. He was ready to breed her—ready to give her body what it had to have. And she was ready to let him take her.
Letting him slip from her mouth, she turned to get on her hands and knees, just as she had the night before in their cage when she’d invited him to “practice” with her.
Only this time wasn’t going to be about any kind of practice. This time he had to make things real between them. If he didn’t, the need inside her would continue to grow until it ate her alive—Whitney didn’t know how she knew that but she did.
She needed him inside her. Her pussy throbbed and ached—so empty, so ready for the deep invasion of his long, thick shaft.
As she spread her thighs to invite him in, she couldn’t wait to be filled by her Protector.
Rafe hesitated, torn with indecision. Whitney’s mouth on his shaft and the sight of her on her knees sucking him had made him harder than he had ever been in his life. Now she was on her hands and knees, thighs spread wide to show the slippery interior of her sweet pussy and Gods, how he longed to plunge deep inside her!
But this is wrong—she’s under the influence of a drug, he told himself fiercely. You should not do this, no matter how tempting she may be! And what if you bond her to you—weren’t you just swearing not to do exactly that only a moment ago?
Yes, but he could make love to her without bonding her to him, Rafe told himself uneasily. All he had to do was withhold his mating fist from her pussy. As a Beast Kindred, he was unable to form a soul-Bond with a female unless his entire mating fist was inside her, holding them together until the act was done.
And if he didn’t give her what she was begging for—what she needed—she could die, couldn’t she? He remembered Dood saying that a female who had eaten the special tweedle breeding food needed the seed of a male deep in her pussy or she would sicken and possibly even die. Knowing that, should he do what Whitney was begging for as she tilted her hips up to him and spread her thighs?
What choice do I have? he asked himself grimly. I cannot let her die—I am sworn to protect her.
Sworn to protect her and never molest her but it seemed that once again he would be breaking that part of his vow.
“Rafe?” Whitney had turned her head to
look up at him. Her lovely dark eyes were cloudy with desire and need. “Please!” she begged in a hoarse whisper, apparently having to force the words out. “Please…I need you!”
“Whitney…mon’dalla…” he began but just then Mother Tusker started talking again.
“Well, it seems that after that initial show of affection, Lovely’s mate is reluctant to do what must be done. Me-Me, perhaps I might have the use of Bumbo after all?”
With those words, Rafe knew his fate was sealed. If he didn’t breed Whitney, some other male would. And the thought of that was completely intolerable. He could not, would not let it happen.
Mine, he thought, though he knew he had no right to claim her. She’s mine and I’ll never let another male touch her!
Falling to his knees behind Whitney, he gripped her full, lush hips and lined up the head of his shaft with her slippery entrance. With a low, beast-like growl, he drove into her, filling her pussy with his cock, claiming her as his own even though he knew he shouldn’t.
Whitney moaned and threw back her head as Rafe finally filled her.
God, it felt good! The ache inside her had been almost too much to bear and the throbbing in her clit had been growing until she thought it might drive her crazy. The feeling of his long, thick Kindred shaft filling her to the brim was exactly what she needed.
Well, almost to the brim, she thought as Rafe gripped her hips and began pounding into her. The steady rhythm of his shaft stretching her inner walls, the head of it giving regular rough kisses to the vulnerable mouth of her womb as the heavy sac which held his balls slapped pleasurably against her swollen clit almost drove the thought out of her mind. But somehow she held onto it and the thought was this—what Rafe was doing felt good—incredibly good—but it wasn’t exactly what she needed.
Pairing with the Protector Page 17