by Josie Walker
The instructor in the video has moved onto the next pose, but I decide to stay here a bit longer. It’s just that I really want to make sure we’ve got this move down right.
“I think you’re a little tight here,” Vorek says as he pulls his face away, but he hovers so close I can feel his breath on my clit.
He pushes his hands down on the back of my thighs, which stretches my muscles more, and opens my core even wider. His tongue slides down one inner thigh toward my nub, but completely misses it. I whimper as his mouth continues its exploration up the other thigh.
I remove my fingers that are pulling down on my feet and place them on his head instead, letting my feet fall to the floor. I press my hips up into the air against this mouth and pant, “Bridge pose!”
“I don’t think you’re doing the posture correctly,” he teases.
“Oh whatever. I don’t care. Just put your mouth back on me. Now!” I beg.
“I wouldn’t want to sacrifice your yoga pract—” the rest of his words are drowned out as I pull his face into my feminine folds.
His tongue slides down my slit. I dig my feet deeper into the yoga mat and raise my hips, angling for more. Who knew I was so wanton?
“You taste so damn good,” he tells me.
I would like to inform him about just how good his lips feels on my clit, but suddenly I’m spiraling out of control and words are beyond my comprehension. Who needs conversation? I am nothing but sensation.
I scream as I come against his tongue. The spasms wrack my body in waves until they finally lessen enough that I feel like I can breathe. I open my eyes to see that the video is still playing, and Vorek has turned to look at it
“I want to try that,” he says.
The instructor is demonstrating ‘wide legged forward bend’. I feel as wobbly as a newborn foal, but from somewhere I summon the strength to stand. Stumbling a bit, I turn my back to him and step wide on my mat.
I feel his eyes on me as I stretch my arms high overhead, then forward fold bringing my hands outside my ankles. This pose certainly says, I have nothing to hide, as my ass is spread eagle toward him and my slick folds are wide open for penetration. I really hope no one comes looking for him right now.
He steps onto my mat, standing behind me and places his hands on my hips. He bends his knees a bit since he’s so much taller than me and with one slick motion he penetrates me from behind, his hands pulling me in for a fit that is tighter than any glove.
“You’re huge in this position,” I squeal as he tentatively thrusts in and out.
“Too big?” he asks, obviously disappointed that he thinks I’m going to veto his game.
“Not too big. Just . . . awesome,” I pant as he begins to pull in and out of me. I look up between my legs and I can see his balls slapping against me, which turns me on even more. He begins to quicken the pace.
“Hold on to me,” I gasp, afraid I’m going to pass out because all of the blood is rushing to my head. But it feels so fantastic that I don’t care. I’m sure he’ll catch me if I do!
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.
“No!” I say emphatically. “Never!”
“I’m glad because I’ve never felt this deep inside you before. It’s mind-boggling.
He pounds into me relentlessly, his fingers tight on my hips as he brings me toward him with each thrust. A crescendo builds inside both of us and he pulls me off of my feet and holds my core tight to him as he shudders deep inside of me. I feel slick and full, which means things are about to get messy.
After a few moments he comes to his senses, and releases me back down to the floor. Gravity is unkind, and I can instantly feel him leaking out of me. I choose to ignore it because that’s what showers are for.
He keeps his hands on me as I stand unsteadily. When I turn to admire him I discover that he has a dopey smile on his face. It makes me feel good knowing that I’m the one who put it there, even if I did have to trick him into coming back to our rooms.
“We should definitely do yoga more often,” he states with a cocky grin.
“Next time I’m making you an outfit too.”
“What’s the point when we’ll just wind up naked?”
“You ask some very valid questions. But I’m having fun with the fabricator anyway.”
And for a few moments I forget to be sad about Tessa. But sadly, the endorphins can only do so much, and all too soon my worry for my friend and the other Krinar women is front and center again. What if the council doesn’t send help in time?
CHAPTER TEN
Eclipsa
We are being held in a large room, deep into the bowels of the monster fortress. I’m not sure what the purpose of the area is; perhaps it’s a gathering room of sorts. It has long tables with benches and chairs. The tables are laden with bowls of alien fruit, and metal pitchers of water and glasses.
The food is familiar to what we’ve already eaten aboard the ship, so it appears to be safe. We seem to be free to move about the room so when we first arrived I checked behind a decorative screen and found what appeared to be a chamberpot. We were all pretty disgusted with the process, but each of us took our turn.
I guess this is the best we’ll get for now because we’re prisoners. They’re obviously not letting us roam freely around this place on our own to find a bathroom. I wonder if it’s chamber pots everywhere, or if they actually have running water and flushing toilets elsewhere. You’d think that a civilization advanced enough for space travel would have mastered indoor plumbing.
The room has one door. I know it’s locked because I tested it when things were quiet earlier. For the most part we’ve been left alone, but sometimes a few of the metalhead guards have stationed themselves inside.
They stare at us with unblinking laser eyes. It’s unnerving, to say the least. Some of my friends have drifted to sleep on the benches, but even though I’m bone tired, sleep eludes me. I’m barely holding it together since Tessa was ripped from our group.
Was that just yesterday? I’m not sure. I actually don’t even know if it’s day or night right now. Time has ceased to matter since our capture back in the dome. I can’t believe my life has been reduced to that of a prisoner.
The memory of Tessa being passed over their heads from one metal barbarian to the next is burned so deeply into my brain that I don’t think I will ever be able to erase it. Over and over I relive the moment where I struggled to reach her, but was held back by cold steel fingers. What happened to her?
My last glimpse of her, she was chained to a tall platform like a pagan sacrifice. I’m having a hard time pretending that she’s still alive, but I can’t let my fear show to the others. We were carried, kicking and screaming, away from Tessa and the arena.
We’ve been locked away in this room ever since. We’re all trying to cope in our own ways. We’re afraid to say it out loud, but I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing. Tessa is never coming back.
She deserved better than to die at the hands of these savage aliens. She was a good friend, and she fought hard to keep us all safe. A tear slips down my cheek, and I brush it away angrily with the back of my hand.
I don’t want the others to see me crying. With Tessa gone, I know I need to step up and take her place as leader of our pathetic group. None of us are poster children Krinar. For whatever reason, the fierce Krinar warrior genetics seem to have passed over us all.
I have certainly never been strong or bold, or daring in any way. This never bothered me before. I’ve always embraced scholarly pursuits. Once I felt a secret pride that I had evolved so completely from our brutal and fierce ancestors, unlike many modern Krinar who hold their civility as a thin veneer over violent tendencies.
But with Tessa gone, the dynamic of our group is majorly off. All scared followers, with no leader. I will try to be more like Tessa for the
sake of the others. I ponder again the irony that Tessa was human, yet the bravest amongst us.
“I think she’s dead,” Xairia whispers, breaking me from my reverie.
“I thought you were asleep,” I say, changing the subject.
“I’m awake too,” Ronja announces, slipping out of the chair she was sitting in and coming closer to talk to us.
“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” Nokey says, joining us. “I keep thinking of Tessa. Do you think they raped her?”
“That’s possible,” I shudder.
“The thought of them being cannibals has popped in my mind, but I really don’t think they would eat us. They didn’t hurt us at all on the ship,” Xairia reasons, trying to talk herself out of that horrific possibility.
I wish I could pretend that the same thoughts haven’t popped up in my head.
“No, but they were sure acting all batshit crazy when we came in that gate,” Nokey says. “That was the freaky from the barbaric metalheads on the ship multiplied by about a thousand.”
“Do you think she’s ever coming back?” Xairia asks.
I consider what to say. I could try to gloss things over and give them false hope, but I think of Tessa. What would she do? As our unofficial leader she was always decisive and blunt. So if I’m to follow in her footsteps, I guess now is the time to start.
“No, I don’t think she’s ever coming back.” The others gasp at my words, but I continue anyway. “I think we need to accept the truth. We saw her manacled to that platform. I think they’ve sacrificed her in some kind of ceremony.”
Their sobs and tears fill the room, and I allow myself to join in their grief. We mourn our dear friend, Tessa, who looked out for each and every one of us. She was the one who helped us to hide when the metal aliens first came.
She risked her life to go get water when our supplies ran out, while we hid like cowards behind the wall. She was the weakest amongst us, yet she taught us what it meant to be brave. And now she is gone.
I glance over to the long bench across from us. One of the metalheads laid Iceree there when we were brought to this room, and she hasn’t moved since then. I thought she was sleeping but even though her eyes are closed, silent tears leak from the outer corners. She is grieving with us.
She has not spoken in weeks, and has shrunken more and more into an almost catatonic state. I stand and go to her, lifting her head gently and placing it on my lap. Her eyes open reflexively, but they are glazed over with pain and confusion. She’s like an empty shell, and I fear that she will never recover.
“Ronja, would you get me a glass of water, please?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says. She pours a glass of water and hands it to me.
Lifting Iceree’s head carefully I dribble some water in her mouth. Thankfully she swallows. “That’s good,” I tell her encouragingly as she takes several drinks.
“I’m so glad she’s still drinking,” Ronja says.
“Me too,” I agree. “Hand me a piece of that purple banana and I’ll try to get her to eat a bit.” I pinch off a small piece and place it in her mouth. I’m relieved when she swallows it too.
I help her sit up, and she slumps against the back of the bench, but doesn’t lay back down.
“Everyone, let’s make sure and help Iceree move to different positions. The guards seem to be very curious of every move we make. We don’t want them to notice she’s not well.”
My friends nod in agreement. I don’t think the metal heads have noticed just how out of it Iceree is yet. I’m afraid that if they realize her vulnerable state it might make her more of a target for their cruelty. She couldn’t even fight them if they took her next. A flashback of Tessa, trying to fight when they took her comes to me, and I shudder involuntarily.
“Hang in there Iceree. We’re going to make it through this,” I lie to her and the others. “We just have to hold on until Vorek comes with the team to rescue us.”
I make eye contact with each of my friends, and I think they believe my lies. In truth I find it almost impossible to keep any hope alive. Vorek and the others are probably long since dead, because, if they were alive, why didn’t they come back to rescue us when we were in the dome?
And now we are light years away, in a galaxy none of us even knew existed. Even if they are alive, how would they track us here? I know of no way, but then again that is not my field of expertise.
Acting in my newly acquired role as leader, I will pretend for the others. Hope may be the only thing to keep us alive. I only wish Tessa were still here so I had someone to comfort me.
The door slams open, and I jerk involuntarily. I look up to see the two guards who have been outside our door are in some sort of altercation with two metalheads I haven’t seen before.
One of the new ones has a wicked looking sabre melded to one arm, and the other has one of those creepy chainsaw arms. It’s obvious they’re trying to get into our room, but our guards are not letting them pass.
Their voices rise in their abrasive tonal language. Then all four of them begin to vibrate with that horrifying chattering sound they all make. Right before our eyes metal weapons emerge from the arms of our guards.
The shiny silver one has a massive hammer on one arm and a battle axe on the other. The dull gray one’s arms mutate into daggers. I don’t even know who to root for, because they’re all bad guys as far as I’m concerned.
The shorter one lifts his chainsaw arm overhead and it instantly begins to spin and whirl. He seems to be able to rev it up at will and the horrifying sound reminds us of what that cruel weapon would do to our soft bodies. Even though we Krinar are self-healing thanks to our nanos, there would be no hope for a dismembered limb here in this remote location . . . not without medical intervention.
I’m chilled to the bones. My screams blend in with my friends as we huddle closer to each other. We aren’t prepared for such savage violence.
The silver guard raises his hammer menacingly and shouts authoritatively, but the chainsaw alien isn’t backing down. There’s no warning before they launch themselves at one another. The alien with the chainsaw swings his deadly arm downward, but the guard swiftly intercepts, striking a mighty blow with his hammer.
This sideways trajectory causes the chainsaw to arc out of control, and my eyes widen in shock when the weapon eats through the leg of the man welding it. His scream fills the air as blood spurts from his wound. What’s wrong with these people? Why are they so determined to get their hands on us?
Even with his leg butchered, the intruder doesn’t back down. He tests the strength of his wounded leg by placing his weight on it, and lifts the chainsaw again. His companion’s sabre slices with savage intensity to the side of the dagger-armed guard’s throat.
The guard feints to the side. The sabre nicks him in the neck, but it doesn’t cut deep enough to kill him. I make a mental note of the vulnerable mesh at the guard’s throat. We must learn our enemy’s weaknesses if we are to stand a chance.
The guard steps forward and with one smooth movement he ducks down and thrusts both of his daggers toward the mesh between his opponent’s legs. The sabre wielding alien roars with rage, but the stab at this unprotected area has only produced a small amount of blood. The chainsaw alien kicks the hammer guard in the stomach, causing him to stumble backward into the room.
We scream louder. The battle just moved into the room with us. With the door now unprotected the sabre arm attacker manages to slip by the other guard and into the room as well. He heads straight for our group and grabs Ronja, who is the closest to the door.
I search desperately for a weapon, but there’s not even a butter knife to eat with. He spins her around and raises his sabre, just daring the guards to come closer. Ronja struggles against him, kicking and screaming. She may be stronger than the average human, but she is no match for his barbarous strength.
The ear splitting boom of a foghorn fills the room. We clap our hands to our ears in unison. Even the attackers stop in their tracks at the invasive sound. All eyes turn to the doorway as more metalheads pour in to secure the room. Honestly, I don’t know if we should be relieved or worried.
The harsh chattering increases in volume to an almost unbearable level as our two attackers stare at the force that has been directed at them. All is now silent as they contemplate their choices. After long moments of indecision, Ronja is released by the chainsaw and sabre aliens.
They step back and hold their empty hands in front of them, admitting their defeat. The room is soon cleared and our door is shut and locked with us inside. It would appear that we’ve been saved . . . but for what purpose? I’m more afraid than ever, but I must be brave for my sisters. I must stay strong.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tessa
Weighing my options quickly, I decide to take my chances and jump off the cliff into the raging river. I take a huge breath because you never know. I might not drown if I’m lucky! I turn my back on the pack of monsters. I’m braced to leap, but that’s when I hear him.
“TSSS!”
“Bocc-d’ar? I’m here!” I scream.
Somehow he has found me! My legs shake as I scurry away from the edge of the cliff. I have options now, and the waterfall has lost its allure.
One of the beasts turns away from me to face Bocc-d’ar. I’m relieved to see that he’s brought his big trident. I’ve seen what he can do with that thing in battle.
“VASTU!” he commands harshly.
This is one of the few words I know of his language. He wants me to come to him. His eyes are trained on the snarling beasts, not me.