The first match has produced a viable female fetus. It is a great accomplishment. I should feel pride. I should feel relief.
But all I feel is jealousy and impatience. These new emotions are confusing and difficult to define.
I groan and rub my temples. I flick my tablet and bring up the menu on the large screen on the wall in front of me. It fades from a beautiful painting to mirror my tablet.
Martians still enjoy all of the same human beauty and aesthetics as we did on Earth. We just happen to be bigger, stronger, and more intelligent than our earthling predecessors.
I flick a few applications and bring up the video screens in the bridal house.
I have resisted watching the females, because every time I look at them or observe them I become more irrational.
Today, I simply can't help it. I do not have access to their private chambers. No one has access to those feeds except the Martian who is matched with that female.
Jaxxo has suggested that this is unethical. The rest of us have agreed that seeing our match in her environment will help with the courtship process.
The females must be agreeable to the mating. Otherwise the potential for a viable fetus is reduced.
Their happiness and safety is of utmost priority to all of us. Including me. No matter how impatient I have become to have a match of my own.
I flick through the screens that show the common rooms of the different wings of the bridal house. I observe the pretty young women. They’re watching movies, playing games, eating food.
I sigh, thinking that any one of them would be a suitable match for me.
But then my eyes fall on a face so beautiful, pure, and intelligent that my heart seems to stop.
I drop my tablet on the floor and stand, approaching the screen on my wall.
She is life-sized before me, laughing and talking with her friends. They seem to be having a heated discussion. And I turn on the audio by voice command.
“Doris is being brainwashed,” the young girl with short hair and long limbs is saying animatedly. “I can't believe that any of you are participating in this. I'm going to find a way back to Earth and no one can stop me.”
“Jaxxo doesn't think it's possible,” says the woman of pure loveliness. “We're never going back, Bobby.”
“But you think you can bring your sister back to Mars,” Bobby snaps.
“I haven't given up on her.”
“What do you think is back on Earth for you anyway?” another girl says.
“I would be free to live my own life. Or to die,” says Bobby.
“We know from Martian history that multiple nuclear missiles were launched in an effort to destroy the Mantises. That basically destroyed the entire Earth ecosystem. The only humans to survive were living underground. And they became the ancestors of the Martians. If you go back to Earth, you will die,” says the most beautiful woman ever born.
“But if we could somehow manage to get back to Earth before that, we could save Abigail,” says the shy one.
“I want to believe that, Sophia. I'm not going to give up.”
I turn off the audio and flick over my wrist device, bringing up the voice communication to lead scientist Malico Ossi.
“I have found my match,” I inform him.
“Sire. I'm afraid that's impossible.”
“I have found her. Her name is…” I flick through the menu, bringing up the information about the women in that wing of the bridal house.
“Her name is Madeline Weber. And she is mine. See to it that we are matched.”
“My king. I have deep respect for you and everything that you have done for Mars. But I am sorry to tell you that that is impossible.”
I grit my teeth and growl. “She's my match. I know it like I know my own name. Now go verify it for me before I have you tried for treason.”
I hang up on Malico, knowing that I should not threaten a member of my council. He is one of the most intelligent men on Mars and our leading scientist. But I am infuriated by his insinuation that I don't know my own match when I see her.
I am agitated and hot. And I need a way to pass the time until my scientists can prove to me what I already know.
I change my clothes and go down to my gym. I run relentlessly on the treadmill while listening to heavy metal music from ancient Earth.
Two hours later, my wrist device pings with a voice communication from Malico. I smile knowingly and flick the device.
“Yes?” I say.
“Sire. I have excellent news. The woman that you picked out at the bridal mansion. She is indeed your genetic match.”
“You see. I was right. I am always right. That should be a lesson to you. Never doubt your king.”
3
Madeline
I'm trying to keep a happy face for Sophia's sake. She's not as strong as me. And this whole situation has been really difficult for her.
As hard as she tries to keep her cool, I know that she is close to the edge. It doesn't help that Bobby keeps saying that we've all been kidnapped and will be made into sex slaves.
I look at myself in the mirror and splash water on my face. I have always been the strong one. I've always been the organized one, the one who had all of her stuff together. Never in my life have I felt so vulnerable.
Except maybe when my parents died. But it happened so long ago that I almost don't even remember what it felt like.
Abigail and I were just little kids when mom and dad got in the car accident. When grandma died of old age a few years ago, it was hard, but it seemed inevitable.
Abigail and I both dealt with becoming orphans in our own ways. I became highly organized, motivated and focused on achievement. Abigail, on the other hand, became paranoid and strange.
At least, that’s what I had called her back then. Now that I’m on Mars, a thousand years in the future, I know that she was right about aliens all along.
A tear slips down my cheek. I wish I could tell her. I wish I could somehow apologize for not believing her. I have to find a way to get back to her.
I splash more water on my face, dry it, and then leave my suite. The common room is empty. They must have gone outside.
I take the elevator downstairs to the front door of the mansion. Out on the lawn, I see the girls all playing racquetball and soccer.
Some of them are sitting on the benches and picnic tables under the trees. Some of them are lying out on blankets to catch the Martian summer sun.
I'm dressed in workout clothes and I know I really need it. I haven't been keeping up to my routine since we were abducted and then rescued.
I wave to Sophia and squint in the sunlight. It amazes me that the weather here is as warm and as bright as it is on Earth.
I want to understand more about Martian terraforming, but right now, my main area of interest is the timegate. I have been spending most of my time studying it, even though I’m not the best with physics or math.
I walk over to Sophia on the lawn. She's brought some yoga mats that she had fabricated in one of the 3D printers in the printing room. Martian technology is truly amazing.
We go through our stretching routine. My body feels tight and weak from misuse. As I stretch into downward dog, I see Bobby on the other side of the lawn across from where some girls are kicking around a soccer ball.
She stares at me, one eye hidden behind a fringe of dark brown bangs. I cringe. Sophia and I stand back up at the same time bringing our hands to prayer position over our hearts.
“What's wrong?” she asks me after a final breath out. Then she follows my gaze.
“Just don't pay any attention to her,” Sophia says. “We should ask to have her transferred to another wing.”
“And have the other girls have to deal with her. I think that that would just be cruel. At least we knew her back on Earth.”
“I still don't understand why she's being like this.”
“Bobby had a difficult past, from what I understand.”
&
nbsp; I only know that because of something Bethany told me. Bethany and Bobby are polar opposites. But since she was the school nurse and privy to some of the school administrative records, she knows why Bobby got the job as a custodian.
“Do tell,” Sophia says.
“I don't want to gossip,” I say, going down into an upward dog. I've never considered gossiping to be a particularly productive use of my time. And while everything is different here on Mars, I think that is the policy I'm going to stick to.
“Party pooper,” Sophia says. “It would help to pass the time to know some juicy details. Maybe it would be easier to deal with her then.”
“I think we’d just end up feeling sorry for her. I don't think that it would make it any easier to listen to her calling us all brainwashed sex slaves.”
“You’ve got a point,” Sophia says. “I'll just ask Bethany myself.” She giggles.
“Have it your way,” I say sarcastically.
We move through our asanas. When I feel loose and opened up, I suggest we do some floor exercises. Sophia and I were both on the gymnastics and cheer squad back in college.
Here on Mars, the gravity is slightly less. I’ve been curious what we'd be able to accomplish in this environment. I want to know if we would have more buoyancy. If we can jump higher and leap farther. There's only one way to find out.
We find an open patch of ground with cut grass that is perfect for gymnastics.
Sophia goes first, doing her cartwheels, round-offs, and backflips.
By the time I start, we are gathering a crowd. The other girls are clapping as we go through our routines.
When I finish mine, I see that Bobby is standing at the edge of our lawn with her arms crossed over her chest, just staring at me.
I don't want to just dislike the poor girl. I know things about her that I probably shouldn't. But she does annoy the hell out of me. I wish she would just stop being so… Bobby.
When I come to the final leap and pose of my routine, I am panting and smiling a genuine smile. Everyone claps and Sophia and I both thank them for their applause.
“I feel a lot better now,” I tell her as we join a group of girls walking back into the house.
We take the stairs back up because the elevators are so crowded.
“Are you still thinking about what Jaxxo said about the timegate?”
“It's hard not to,” I tell her.
“What will you do when you get matched with your own Martian?”
“I will probably pester him until he agrees to find a way to get me back to my sister.”
“Whoever is matched with you is going to get more than he bargained for,” she says with a laugh.
“He definitely is.”
I think about the possibility of getting matched with one of these big, sexy Martians. With broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and a sexy glint in his eyes.
It makes me quiver a little bit to think of having one of these men for myself. I may be inexperienced, but I'm not dead inside.
“We are all going to get a Martian eventually,” I tell her. “Even you. How do you think you'll handle it?”
“I hadn't really thought about it,” Sophia says. “I'm just trying to make it through the day.”
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way. But whoever I get matched with, he better buckle up. Because I have some requests in mind.”
4
Damious
I fly down to the bridal house, intending to bring my match home with me immediately. I am king. I should be obeyed. The thought of the little human obeying my every command sends a thrill through me.
I need to keep my cool. I am going to meet my match for the first time.
I land my speeder behind the bridal house and start toward the front lawn where I see groups of girls participating in sports activities.
This piques my curiosity. I know that my match is some kind of athlete. A low growl rumbles through my chest at the thought of her muscled thighs.
I approach the lawn and the scent of absolute pleasure rolls through the air. I take a deep inhalation, my senses going haywire and my body responding involuntarily.
I take a step backwards. And then I spot her, my tiny yellow-haired goddess. She's in a skintight outfit that hugs every curve of her petite frame.
She then bends over, pressing her ass into the air. She goes through a series of postures that I know of as yoga. And it is the most alluring site I have ever witnessed in my entire life.
The wind blows in my direction and I pick up her scent. The genetic matching serum all Martians have taken rushes through my blood. My mouth drops open and begins to salivate. My cock presses against my pants.
I blink several times. I am laser focused on one thing: Her perfect little body. A body that I need to claim. A body that belongs to me.
Every instinct inside me is roaring to rush across the grass, grab her, and ravish her right here, for everyone to see. For everyone to know that she's mine.
My erection is so hard it's painful, throbbing between my legs. Sweat pours down my temples. I shake my head, trying to get a grip.
My female and her friend then begin bounding across the lawn doing flips and backflips. I am amazed at her agility and strength.
My body is in a state of heightened awareness. Then I realize with a flush that I am standing out in the open. I’m shielded only by a couple of oak trees.
My senses slowly come back to me and I realize that this is not an appropriate stance for the King of Mars.
I take a step back, hoping that no one has seen me in this state of arousal. I turn around and rush back to the landing pad.
I slide inside my vehicle and black out all of the windows. I am alone in the silence, save for my heavy breathing.
I rub my hands over my face and groan. My erection will not calm down. My emotions are out of control. Indescribable feelings bombard me. It’s as if I’m approaching the edge of sanity.
I want to go introduce myself to my match. But I cannot do it like this. I know enough about human customs to know that presenting yourself with a massive erection to the woman you wish to court is considered rude.
Like most Martians, I have absolute control over my physical functions. At least, I did until this moment. I am losing dominion over my body and my mind. I must do something to regain self-control.
I have performed the act of sexual release on many occasions, as it is necessary for full health and functioning. But I have never in my life been pushed to the edge like this. It is disorienting to the extreme.
I look down at my throbbing cock. It will not obey my mental command to relax. The thought of my match’s ass thrust in the air for all to see only makes me angrily possessive and more aroused.
“Calm down,” I tell my member aloud.
It does not listen. I know that there is one sure method for solving this problem. And the sooner I get it done with, the better.
I unfasten the waist of my pants and my phallus springs out like a bouncing hungry animal. I take my length in my palm and squeeze.
I close my eyes, thinking of my match. Her perfect tiny body, her round muscular buttocks. The strength of her limbs while she tossed and tumbled herself through the air.
I begin to stroke. Rubbing my hand over my chest, imagining that it's her hand on me. I imagine her lips on my phallus. Her breasts bouncing as I enter her.
Holding that tiny form in my arms as I lower her down over my cock. Slicing her open with my girth. I rub my hand up and down my length, squeezing and varying the pressure as my strokes become more insistent.
I thrust into my hand, imagining thrusting into her. I need her. I need her more than I need oxygen. I need her more than I've needed anything in my life.
I am king. I should not be denied anything. I will have her. I will claim her. In my fantasy, my come bursts deep inside her.
I groan as I climax into my hand. My cock throbs and pulses in my palm as the last of my seed spurts into nothing.
I lean back in my chair, panting and dazed. I have completely lost control of myself. I feel ashamed and confused.
I quickly clean myself up and straighten my clothing. This was not my finest moment.
I know that the genetic matching serum causes both male and female to be irresistibly attracted to each other. But I had no idea that it would be so overpowering.
Jaxxo wasn't lying when he complained about it steering his own courtship. I wipe my hand over my sweaty brow.
Maybe something should be done about the intensity of desire. It is unbecoming of a Martian to lose control of himself like this. It goes against every custom and every personality quality that Martians have developed over the last thousand years.
We are a race of logical, controlled humans. We have learned to control our emotions and our baser instincts. It is something we pride ourselves upon. To lose control like this, to have to relieve my sexual tension in a parked vehicle, is completely unacceptable.
But as unacceptable as it may be, it is what has happened. And I can do nothing to change it. My emotions roil.
I growl and clench my fist, slamming it into the dashboard of the vehicle. I shake my head, resigning myself to the reality of the moment.
I am here for a purpose and now that I have relieved myself, I can complete it. I must present myself to my match and tell her she is coming back to my palace with me.
Considering the length of Jaxxo's courtship, I should assume there will be some resistance from her. But since I am king, I expect there to be greater cooperation than the captain received.
I slide out of the car, still slightly dizzy from the intoxication of desire.
I stride across the lawn and walk up the steps of the mansion to the front door. Most of the girls have gone inside. And I am somewhat relieved that there is no one to greet me.
I stride through the front hall and take the elevator upstairs. Some of the girls wandering around and speaking in small groups eye me curiously. I nod to them and they giggle or cringe.
I understand that there are mixed emotions from the Earth females about the situation. Some are grateful that we saved them from the Mantises, while others are quite angry that we have brought them here for the purpose of repopulating our planet. We all knew that this dichotomy of opinion would happen. All of our computer simulations suggested exactly that. But it was a calculated risk we had to take.
Alien King's Match: Alien Abduction Breeder Romance (Timegate Mars Book 2) Page 2