Outlaw Seal

by Kate Sheperd

  “Then why have we all been living these torturous dual lives all these generations?” Nik asked, seeming more comfortable in his newest transformation.

  “Because, Apollo’s blood runs through your veins as it did hers. By her own right she waged a war with me in refusing to experience what my role in her next phase of life was to be. Each of her descendants to follow also had their own agenda, seeking love on their own time. You, however, were the first to do differently. Despite the curse, we watched from Olympus as you didn’t just actively seek a mate. You sought a love to share in this great expression with you,” she said with a knowing smile.

  “Wait a moment, Nik?” I asked, looking to him, confused.

  “I dated those women you read about. I wanted to fully experience love, but I knew they were not the one. I met you, and I knew you were someone I wanted to spend every season with,” he said looking me in the eyes.

  “So you were a virgin as well?” I asked surprised.

  “He was,” Aphrodite smiled. “You two balanced Polyphonte’s debt in ways I couldn’t have expected. You both waited for love and even with the curse you both willingly shared every level of yourself with each other. Your secrets, fears, bodies. Now, with my blessing you may share a normal life, or whatever life you choose.”

  With that, Aphrodite sat upright and blew us each a kiss. She vanished leaving only a golden haze.

  Chapter 14

  We hugged and rested for a few moments enjoying our success and freedom.

  “I wonder what she meant by ‘any life we choose,’” Nik said.

  “I think I might know,” I said.

  I stood and walked over to the fall. I dipped my fingers in, and the water that ran down turned a glistening gold.

  “I think this waterfall has the power to change the curse,” I said. “She has been appearing to me in dreams since all this started. In the first, she transformed me to a bear. In the second I transformed you into a man.”

  “Is that what you want?” Nik asked.

  I thought for a moment.

  “I just want you to be yourself,” I said.

  He was still in his blended form. I smiled at him and caressed his furred cheek.

  “I love you in any form and would gladly join you as such just to be close to you,” I said.

  Nik thought a moment. He touched the water and the same golden effect happened.

  “Vanessa, I think Aphrodite has granted that wish,” he said.

  At once I understood. I took his hand and we stood under the waterfall together. We each watched as the other morphed human, beast, and in between, still holding hands.

  As we left the water, we were in our human forms. Nik held me in his arms and kissed me tightly. When he pulled back he released a strong growl of joy that shook the very mountain. I echoed his joy with a ground-shaking growl of my own.

  Her Alien Protector

  1.

  The dust settled after a sandstorm, leaving pellets of dirt and grit against huge windows in the war room. Vangorg stroked his goatee and stared out at the planet's hot surface. While many saw their planet as nothing more than an oasis for weary travelers looking for a warmer climate in the galaxy as they passed through the colder regions of space, he knew it was paradise. Narrowing his yellowed, catlike eyes, he activated what the human women would have called his “sixth sense.” He had always had the ability to foresee short glimpses into the future with effort. All he could see in his mind's eye now was destruction. He knew the time of war was coming; he felt it nearing quickly. The Slivian race had made great strides in technology while keeping their roots as ancient warriors, calling upon their ancestors in times of battle to channel great strength and also to train them in the ancient ways of hand-to-hand combat.

  As a general, he came from a long line of leaders ready to take command and jump into the fray at any given moment. Walking over to the other side of the room, he lit the hearth and the fire crackled to life. Above it was a mounted shield with his family's coat of arms, and also their people’s symbol. It was time to honor the dead with the fire as well as seek advice. As the fire crackled to life, it emitted a glowing green mist, and in it he could smell the exotic scents of pine and sandalwood. There were no evergreens on their planet, hardly any greenery at all, so plants like aloe and ferns were cherished for their medicinal qualities as well as their beauty. The women on their planet would often make salves from the plants’ leaves when they could be located. As he inhaled the aroma, he focused on his heartbeat and the blood of the ancients coursing through his body. He could feel the thousands of lives his people had taken in battle, and knew that below his peaceful facade there was bloodlust brewing.

  “I offer thanks for many days and many more to come. I am Vangorg and I praise your achievements. Make me like you, mold me and shape me into the perfect warrior to carry on your legacy. I vow to protect our planet and our people. This is my home, and home is my paradise. I can feel times of strife ahead, and I ask for strength to lead my people to victory.” The fire quickly died down, and Vangorg felt an odd sense of peace as the rich scents dissipated to other rooms of the palace. His footsteps echoed in the empty room as he picked up his small sword and sheathed it. There would be no battle today, but soon. The storms outside had passed, and the surface was lit once again with the massive sun that eclipsed the horizon. He smiled inwardly thinking about how nice it would be to see his wife.

  Standing at their kitchen counter, Jocasta chopped up fresh spices from their window gardens to put in the sauce boiling on their stovetop for Vangorg's afternoon meal. She moved her hips and swayed while doing so, singing an old song she remembered from her time on Earth. The day she was taken had been a normal summer day. She walked along beach kicking at the sand as she went, thinking about what career she would choose for herself. She didn't already have a plan like most of the twenty-year-olds she knew. She only knew that she would enroll in the local community college and let fate decide. Seven years had passed since that day, yet she could not have been happier. She only knew that after a stranger touched her shoulder in passing she had awoken on this strange new planet. She was studied and analyzed like the other women there, but above all she was revered. The males all worshiped her for her beauty, her flaming red hair, flawless skin, and curves. Turning she saw Vangorg enter the kitchen and she smiled. “My love. My master. I have missed you. I am happy you are back in my presence.”

  Going to her he pressed her against the counter, wrapping his arms around her and letting his hands become entangled in her hair as he kissed her passionately. Her breath became rapid as it always did. He made her blood boil with passion as he did every day, not just on special occasions or anniversaries. She felt his strong shoulders and muscled back and could hear the barely audible purr of approval as his body vibrated with pleasure. Vangorg was her champion in this environment, and she had adapted to her new life well. Sure, she missed her human family on occasion, standing when the sun was at its lowest glow, staring in the distance, but she would not change anything. Vangorg had never made her feel like a captive, and she grew to appreciate his personality over time. He was truly one of the most graceful men among his people. Also, he was one of the most handsome as he fought bravely for her in their contests of skill, winning the right to choose his bride first. At first she was afraid of the arrangement, but he was an honorable man and explained that his people were dying out and needed to sire more offspring for their survival. He couldn't think of any other options than to channel the women like cattle across the galaxy to ensure their race's survival. Their women were almost extinct. Silvian women were prone to illness and many had succumbed to a plague that spread rapidly on their planet, swept in with the dust storms. Understanding this, Jocasta accepted her new role, and Vangorg saw that her every wish was granted.

  Ending their embrace and sensing his mood shift she looked into his kind eyes. “Why, husband, what has you so worried this gorgeous afternoon.”

&nbs
p; “I fear the winds of war are blowing in, my wife.”

  Placing her hand on his cheek in an effort of comfort, she said, “You will make the right choice in this matter, my love. Trust in your instincts. After all, it is how you got me.”

  He chuckled, “Yes. My gut was definitely not wrong. You are one in a billion, distinctive like an individual star. I will always protect you, Jocasta. Remember that.”

  2.

  Hertzog salivated and looked out the window of his starship, and howled in fury. Due to some engineering miscalculations they had bypassed the only planet where there may have been some supplies they could pirate, or at least some acceptable breeding stock. The only thing they could do now was press on and ravage any other planet they should encounter. After all, he had become infamous throughout the galaxy as a leader who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He had a taste for blood and a vice for sex, and the combination of those two things fueled his desires. He was a beast most of the time, always giving into his baser instincts. It was a characteristic of his people. He was a broad creature and prided himself on his stellar physique. He used his size and strength to overpower all of his opponents, and would have been considered in ancient times to be a god or king. Thick tentacles framed his head like a crown and his narrow red eyes held no hint of sentiment or remorse. He felt as if he was made for one thing, bred and bound for not only destruction but to rule. He did that with an iron fist, gaining the compliance of his colleagues and subordinates through fear and intimidation. Turning to his first officer, Daeong, he grunted and questioned, “How long?”

  “Three hours.”

  Hertzog only nodded and said, “Very good then. Go ahead and feed the troops, and prepare them for battle.” Remembering his last conquest, he sat down in the captain’s chair. Arriving [S42]on Altine, he had been surprised to find that the planet was inhabited, but its population was mostly male. He had wanted women to sell on the black market. Women of any variety were highly prized throughout the galaxy and could always be used in place of currency for slavery and breeding stock. He had commanded his troops to take anything they could and burn the rest. The villagers of the tiny planet— mostly farmers, as they had not evolved beyond this phase—were overwhelmed and overrun easily. They had fought against the invaders bravely, as threatened beings usually do. However, their bravery was not enough. Hertzog had burned their shelters and stolen whatever supplies they had on hand. He had also depleted their only supplies of minerals, which would not allow them to advance to the point of using combustibles in their evolution. He was ruthless and that was how he measured success. The bloodier a raid, the better it was in his estimation.

  Snapping his fingers while in his captain's chair, Hertzog waited to be attended to. In the past he had either tortured or murdered some of his previous employees for being too slow or not attentive enough to his wishes. An exotic female alien with tentacles piled high in a bun stood before him. She was dressed in next to nothing and had chain marks encircling her ankles and wrists. The marks were made over a period of time, as Hertzog made it a point to keep his slaves in shackles, satisfying his need for implicit control in everything. Kneeling at his side, she offered him the plate she balanced delicately in her hands. It was ornate and inlaid with gold and silver. She fed him with her hands from the plate. The food was a delicacy made of the finest Ethiopian earth worms full of lush spices. The dish was laden with misha beans and jockaby berries, the finest in the galaxy. As he consumed the contents of plate, the young slave breathed easier knowing that at least for today she was safe from his assaults. After consuming his meal, she promptly took the plate to the back of the ship and another woman appeared in her place. This woman was clothed in similar attire, but instead of carrying a plate of offerings, she immediately knelt in front of Hertzog as he placed his hands behind his head, sated. He knew that all he had to do was make the command and he could receive his pleasure how he chose. He preferred to let his slaves make those choices, though. They knew what their punishment would be if he was not pleased with their actions. He had made many an example, selling them at market or, if they were as unlucky as the others, putting them to death or forcing them to face ghastly tortures because of their ineptitude. The young woman caressed Hertzog's feet and massaged his toes. He relaxed his neck muscles and rolled his head backwards, his mouth gaping open slightly. She proceeded to make her way up his thighs, pressing and squeezing his muscles as she went, leaving an indentation of her fingertips on his flesh. As she proceeded in her route she reached his midsection and gently kneaded his abs. He spread his thighs wider when she completed his movement a subtle signal that he required more and was ready for her movements to escalate.

  3.[S43]

  Straddling his hips, the slave woman began her own private dance for him. He gurgled and groaned in response, enjoying the pressure of her body on top of his. Seeing him looking at her with his beady, eyes she paused momentarily, slightly afraid that her ministrations were not pleasing to her owner. She clenched and shut her eyes briefly, awaiting either his strike or his voiced displeasure. To her relief she found neither. He simply moaned again in relief as she continued her motions on top of him. Hertzog was not emotional. Some of his other race brothers and sisters felt the need to honor their traditions of bonding and syncing up with their chosen one, but he found that only led to a weakness in body and spirit that the greatest warriors did not ascribe to. He was bred to be a champion, and it was encoded in his destiny. Some called him a madman; others called him a dictator and a ruthless brute. He did not see himself this way, however. He only saw himself as someone doing what was necessary to create the life he wanted. He wanted to rule, and nothing would stop him, especially emotion. The only thing that separated him from the commoners of his people—aside from his great strength and military knowledge—was this lack of warmth, which he believed made him invincible. He would gladly kill an infant if it meant that he would get that infant's share of an estate or the family’s riches for himself. As the slave woman wrapped her arms around his neck, she placed her breasts towards his face, which he reached out and grabbed, making him harder still. He made a mental note to keep this woman around, as her eroticism pleased him greatly.

  Hertzog laughed as she gasped when he entered her. He didn't concern himself with her pleasure. He just wanted to extinguish his own need deep within her. As he moved his hips in an upward movement she accepted him further into her. She was warm and inviting, and Hertzog took her, rapidly pounding into her fiercely as the sounds of their lovemaking echoed throughout the cabin, his groans and her moans filling the ship. Hertzog felt fully alive during these times. His eyes glowed with lust and passion as he felt her body tightening around him. As she moaned into the side of his head the tentacles rose up on the back of his neck. He felt powerful as he came hard inside her, and they sat for a moment clinging to one another, both spent. Looking at her after their brief stupor, the light in his eyes faded as he caught his breath. He was more relaxed than ever, and even more confident in his abilities. The slave woman looked at him, slightly unsure what to do next and simply asked, “Did I please you, master?”

  He nodded and grunted. “Yes, you did well. I am impressed with your abilities. I think I shall keep you. What do you call yourself?”

  “Aretha.”

  “Very well then, Aretha, I will call for you again after our battles, but prepare yourself because I will require much more...ferocity.”

  “Yes, master. As you wish.”

  “Excellent. You are free to go, Aretha.”

  As the woman climbed off of his lap, he pulled out a map and surveyed his surroundings in the solar system. The planet they were just on was nothing but an exercise in plundering, but the planet they were going to next was an unusual planet with a more tropical climate than what Hertzog's people were used to. They were a hearty breed that normally thrived in colder temperatures, being from the farther regions of space originally. He knew that the climate might
prove a challenge for his troops, but he was confident in their abilities and their training. He didn't expect to encounter much resistance; the people there had not encountered any serious combat situations for many generations. They were a peaceful people. From what he had heard in his travels, the location was more for refueling and enjoying the nice temperatures, a bit of an oasis. They provided food and beverages to thirsty travelers or a brief respite, but the planet itself was barren. He knew that if there was a battle to be had, it wouldn't take long, and he was looking forward not only to his victory, but also to a chance to make his mark and perhaps even enslave the current population, forcing them to work under his rule, therefore entitling him to the riches to be made from their hospitality suites as well. He smiled to himself thinking that life was indeed good when you were a king.

  4.

  Vangorg stretched Jocasta out on their marriage bed and gazed at her longingly. His eyes feasted on all of her beauty. At times he felt pangs of guilt about taking her from her Earth family and robbing anyone else of the chance of loving her, but he reminded himself that he didn't have a choice in the matter. His people, his race, was dying out, and he needed to find a way to continue the population and bring new life into the world. He was fortunate that Earth women's bodies were compatible enough with their own to make breeding a possibility. Jocasta was more than he could ever have hoped for. When he won the right to pick his bride, he was inexplicably drawn to her. It was more than her body he was interested in. Even now, looking at her delicate curves and pale white flesh, he felt as if he was never really complete until he met her. Lying down beside her, he looked into her eyes, thinking they resembled the luminescence of stars before they burn out and fall. That kind of beauty was a rarity, even in outer space, which was full of those stars.