by Loki Renard
I bury the jar out the back of the village, where I have to sneak out to check on it. After a few days, it starts to smell good. A little taste test, just a couple of drops on the tip of my finger, suggests it’s not going to taste great, but that’s never stopped a human who wanted a drink before.
A week and a half later, I’m ready for my first drink in over a month. I’m dry to my fucking bones, it feels like.
I make sure nobody notices me leaving the roundhouse. Shanti is occupied by the many dramas of her daughters, thank god, when I slip out the back and through the little path which I have forged going back and forth.
The night is bright. On nights like this, I used to put on my scantiest clothing and go party until the sun rose. I fucking loved those nights. Loud music, crowds, the pulse of bass and the gyrating of strangers. No rules. No commitments. Nothing but pleasure.
This planet is boring, but I’m going to change that.
I dig through the undergrowth which hides the jar. This is fun. This feels like my old self. Once I’ve made sure it is palatable, and I’ve had enough to get a good buzz on, I plan to share it with the other females. Once they get a taste of this, they’re going to realize that there is so much more to life than their little village and doing what Shanti says.
I lift the jar to my lips. It smells fucking intense, rich berry, honey, and that pungent tang which tells you there’s serious alcohol content.
“What do you have there?”
The question makes me splutter the brew away from my lips, which is precisely the opposite of what I want to happen.
Standing behind me is Mama Buzzkill. She sensed something fun happening and just honed in on it like crazy. I hate how I have to crane my neck to look up at her as she stand there with her hands on her hips, her eyes gleaming like the stars. It’s still so strange to find myself beneath the gaze of a predator.
“It’s a human tradition,” I tell her. “I need it for my religious beliefs.”
She plucks it from my hands and sniffs it.
“It’s spoiled.”
“It’s not spoiled. It’s perfect. It helps our species. We need it for our gut health. There’s probiotics in it.” I am rattling off every reason I’ve ever seen on an infomercial designed to sell some crap, but unlike my mother who had a house full of salad spinners that could also wash your vegetables, Shanti isn’t buying it.
“I know what effects these processes have. We use fermented fruits in our sacred ceremonies. What you have concocted is closer to poison. Remember, it is not just sugar which can transform. The rotting flesh of any living thing is a risk.”
I watch, gutted, as she pours it out, and I am left with nothing but the faint smell of what might have been a drink.
“Fuck this place,” I curse. “Seriously. Fuck it.”
“When you are done having your tantrum, you still have your day’s weaving to do.”
“Fuck you,” I curse her out. “Fuck you so fucking hard, Shanti. I don’t work for you!”
I know she’s going to beat me, and I don’t care. I can glower just as hard as she can.
“Throwing a tantrum because you did not get your way is not becoming,” Shanti says.
“Oh, well, hmm. I don’t give a fuck,” I say right back. I wanted that drink so fucking badly. I needed the edge taken off, but she stopped me, and now I am nothing but edges.
I’m not surprised when she grabs me and whips me around. I curse and swear when her palm meets my ass underneath my skirt. A dozen slaps catch my ass, and then she releases me, still pouting and now sore as well.
“Come inside when you’re ready to do your work,” she tells me.
I manage to keep my mouth shut long enough to avoid getting into even more trouble. Though I still mutter fuck off under my breath when she’s far enough away that I don’t think she can hear me anymore.
Her ears twitch, and I practically have a heart attack, but she keeps walking. That’s mercy, right there. I know she could come back and tear strips off me, but she chooses not to. Wait. Is it mercy? Or am I just feeling relief?
I hate being under control. I loathe not having the choice as to how my own mind feels. Shanti is a goddamn tyrant.
“You still look hot when you get spanked.”
“Oh my god, Scratch!” I’m so fucking happy to see him that I almost forget about the tingling in my ass as he steps out of the bushes, smiling with rakish glee. “I saw what just happened,” he says. “All that work for nothing, huh?”
“Yeah. What are you smirking at?”
“You, and your desperate attempts to remake Earth on another planet. All the problems you had there are gone here, but you’re working as fast as you can to create them again.”
“Hey, there’s more fruit and its gonna ferment eventually. She can’t stop me forever. Just like she can’t stop you. You’re not supposed to be here either.”
He reaches for me, wraps his hand around my upper arm, and yanks me forward against his body. My chest meets hard muscle, and it’s all I can do not to swoon as he holds me so fucking tight.
“I never do what I’m supposed to,” he purrs against my neck. “And neither do you, and that’s how we’re going to make this work.”
It feels so good to touch him again, to feel his arms wrapped around me. I was honestly afraid I might not see him again, that they’d sent him away, or maybe even outright killed him and just not told me.
“I missed you,” I murmur, feeling myself cringe as I make the admission. I’ve never told a guy that I missed him before.
“I missed you too,” he says. “You’re a much better roommate than Fenrir.”
“Yeah, I bet you can’t fuck him.”
“I cannot,” Scratch laughs.
“Pixie!” Shanti calls my name. I freeze against his body. I don’t want to follow after her. I want to stay with him.
“I’ll come for you again,” Scratch promises in a low whisper. “Be patient, Pixie. Wait for me.”
Then he’s gone, back into the woods. I clench my fists as tears spring to my eyes. I want him so fucking bad it feels like I’m going to fall apart from the inside out if I cannot have him.
“Pixie, if I have to come and get you, you’re not going to like it,” Shanti calls.
“Godfuckingdammitcuntfuckgoddamn,” I curse, as I turn to do as I am told.
7 Lies
Pixie
If I want to keep hooking up with Scratch, I have to get Shanti off my back. She watches my every move like a hawk. Unfortunately, the only way to appear to be behaving myself is to actually behave myself most of the time.
She’s insistent that I help out with the tribe. I almost miss the days I could just sleep with someone and get rent or whatever. Living wild is hard work, and I hate weaving. It’s hard on my back and my fingers and my patience. So I volunteer for the gathering trips. Every few days, groups of females go into the wilds and get stuff that passes for food in this place where they don’t even have sushi, which is weird because you’d think feline-looking aliens would love fish, but aside from the water trickling through their wet village, I haven't even seen a river here.
Aside from weaving, there’s nothing more boring than gathering berries. It’s just repetitive plucking over and over, and then a really heavy basket to carry back.
“We can just get these from the grocery store at home,” I mumble to myself.
“What’s a grocery store?” One of the females asks the question. I forget what incredible hearing they all have.
“It’s a building, and there’s food in it. All kinds of food, meats from all different animals, cheeses from their milk, fruits, and other stuff I don’t even know how to explain to you guys. Salty, sweet treats.”
“And you can have anything you like from this grocery store?”
“Well, you’re supposed to have money to buy it with.”
“Mun-ney,” she repeats.
“Yeah.”
“What is mun-ney?”
I know that nothing I have said makes any sense to her. To be honest, I’m not sure it makes all that much sense to me.
“Your world seems very strange and complicated,” she says. “Like the city.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “It does sound like the city. I gotta go pee. Be right back.”
I wander away from the group, just to be alone for a second. They’re trying to be nice to me, but the loneliness is creeping in again, that dark void which takes root in my stomach and grows and flowers the longer I am with them. I saw a meme once about being alone not meaning you weren’t lonely. I didn’t get it then, but I do now.
“Gotcha!”
Big arms wrap around me from behind and drag me off my feet. Before I can scream, a massive paw slaps over my mouth. My heart is hammering in my chest as pure terror flashes through my body. But just as quickly as it comes, it goes.
“You have to be more careful in the wild, human,” Scratch growls in my ear. “Anybody could take you.”
All the tension fades out of my body, but the adrenaline remains coursing through my veins. “Asshole,” I curse at him.
“Shh, they’ll hear us,” he says, pressing a finger to my lips.
I nod, and he takes it away. Next time I talk, it is in a hushed whisper.
“I managed to sneak away from their little gathering party, but they’re gonna notice I’m gone, unless you have somewhere better than standing right out in the open to hook up?”
“Sure. I found somewhere. Come on.” He reaches for my hand and leads me up and through the forest.
I follow after him willingly, the biggest grin on my face. Everything is better when I’m with Scratch. The world is an exciting place with him. Any world is an exciting place with him. Even a basket-weaving cat world feels like a place worth being with him.
The place he’s found is a cave hidden among trees and vines. It’s very Tarzan, and I’m into it, especially when he pulls me up against him and kisses me so thoroughly I forget all my cares for a few blissful seconds.
“We have to get out of here,” I moan against his mouth. “We seriously have to run. I can’t spend another day weaving baskets in this shit hole. I need to be somewhere sophisticated.”
He cups my ass and props me up against the wall. “It’s a long way, baby. A long way.”
“You could carry me.”
“You really want me to steal you away? They’re putting up with us for now, but if they hunt us down and catch us, that’s the end of it. You get mated off to one of Shanti’s boys, and I probably get dead.”
“I do not want to mate with one of her sons. I don't even care if he is hot. She will not leave me alone for two seconds. Fuck…”
The last word is not referring to her. It is referring to the hot cock sliding inside me, filling me up deep. God. Fuck. Yes. This fur skirt is easy access, and Scratch is taking full advantage of that.
I've never been with any guy I’ve been so ready for. Foreplay isn’t Scratch’s strong suit, but turning me on with his mere presence absolutely is.
Scratch grazes his teeth along the side of my neck, and digs them in just enough to not seriously harm me. Then he goes deep and he goes hard.
I’ve needed this just as badly as he has. I don’t know how long it has been since we got to fuck, but we are making up for lost time now.
“I missed you,” he sighs, pushing his hips hard against me, pinning me to the wall behind. I am trapped on his cock, spread around the hard girth of his flesh, and I wish I could stay here forever, trapped in perfect passion.
“I missed you too,” I whimper as I am ravaged, the dark thing inside me shattering into a thousand flecks of light at his touch. Scratch is the antidote to absolutely everything which ails me. His cock might be the cure for all diseases known to man. It’s definitely making me feel a thousand times better than fresh air, exercise, and a healthy diet have.
Scratch knows how to use me. He has learned my body, all the sensitive little places which heighten my pleasure and make me melt for him. With his cock buried deep in my pussy, he drifts his fingertips over my anus.
“Mnngghhh….”
“I want this,” he tells me in a tone which strongly suggests that means he’s going to take it.
He hesitates for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for me to object if I wanted to. When I don’t, he pulls free of my pussy and presses that thick cock to my ass. I’ve been taken here before. Usually when a guy does it, it’s because he wants to dominate me and make me feel dirty. I don’t feel that way with Scratch. With him, I feel as though he just wants to be deeper inside me, to find all my crevices and claim them for his own. He is on a slow conquest of every hole in my body, and my ass is no exception.
“Does this hurt?” He purrs the question, his fingers toying with my clit as he presses his cock more firmly against that tight hole which unlike my pussy, knows how to resist an unwanted intrusion.
He will have to romance my ass, tease his way in. And that’s precisely what he does. He uses his fingers on my pussy, pinching my clit and using the ample lubrication of my sex to ease his cock into my ass. I already know how to relax and let it happen, but he is thicker than anybody who ever came before him.
I let out incoherent moans as he pushes inside me, just a little at first and then more insistently, going ever deeper.
“Good girl,” he growls in my ear, his tongue toying with my lobe. “Does it feel good to have me here?”
“Yess…” I don’t have to lie, or tell him what he wants to hear. I like anal. I like how tight and dirty I feel. I like how my body feels completely claimed by him, how there is absolutely nothing left for anybody else now he is sinking inside my ass, thrusting into me with short strokes, then longer ones until he is fucking my ass the same way he’s fucked my pussy…. all the way to mutual orgasm.
“Fuckkkk…” I curse as he curls his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back, one hand on my hip to pull my ass back too, making me arch for him.
I give him all he wants, and I take all I need. Hard thrusting strokes drive me toward climax, his finger strumming and rubbing my wet clit until I wail in filthy orgasm, my ass clenching his cock and triggering that rush of seed which fills my final hole to dripping point.
We’re both breathing ragged and deep as he pulls free of my ass but keeps his paws on my hips, settling me down in his lap as we sit on a stone shelf and look out at the wild world beyond our private cave.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.
I didn’t know it was even possible to feel this content.
“I wish I had a cigarette,” I sigh.
“I’m sure we can find some rolled leaves for you to set alight and draw into your lungs — which are not designed for that purpose at all.”
“Hey, humans practically invented using our bodies for things they're not designed for,” I tell him. “What do you think anal sex is?”
“Something we are going to do again,” he grins with that devilish expression. “I like that ass of yours. It fits me perfectly.” He cups my ass and slaps it lightly.
“I like your cock,” I reply. “But…”
“But what?”
“But we can’t stay here, Scratch. They’re going to keep us separate and then… I don’t know what Shanti has in mind, but I don’t think it is good for us. We have to escape.”
“If we’re going to go back to the city, we need to find a way to make them want us to leave. Can you be obnoxious?” He pauses, then laughs. “Of course you can be. I need you to create hell among the tribe. Do whatever you can to disrupt them and make yourself an unpleasant nuisance until they give up. Can you do that?”
“Make people hate me? Uh. Yes. Was prett
y much born to do that.”
“Good. Shanti will probably tear strips off you, but don’t let that stop you. Take a few beatings if you have to. We need her to give up on you completely. If you're bad enough, she’ll beg me to take you back to the city.”
“That’s a real risk.”
“It is. But it fits your skill-set perfectly.”
“It does,” I agree. “What about your skill-set?”
“I will keep myself alive, try to stay away from Skoll, and…”
“Why do you need to stay away from Skoll? Isn’t he the human’s mate? Kitty?”
“Long story.”
“I like stories.”
“This one’s a weird one,” he says with a smirk. “Even for this place. Even for you.”
“Tell me. I want to know who you are. I want to be able to trust you.”
He hesitates for a brief moment, then starts to talk.
“I was a criminal. Still am. I had a bounty put on me by the city, and I had to flee. They were going to imprison me for the rest of my life in the mines.”
“Fuck that.”
“Exactly. So I made a plan to escape somewhere I didn't think I was going to ever be caught. Earth. I engineered a sort of portal which allowed me to walk through, and a device…” he pauses.
Three years ago…
Scratch
I am bleeding from a dozen holes ripped through my body. That fucking bounty hunter almost killed me.
It’s not my first time getting the hell beaten out of me by the authorities. It might be my first time dying from it though. They worked me over for days, demanding my contacts, insisting I confess and then telling me they’ll kill me when I do, once I’ve been sent to the mines. It’s been confusing, but threatening, and also very painful. I managed to escape custody, but then the bounty hunter found me, and I did not win that fight.
Suffice to say, my plan is not going to plan. I was supposed to be on the other planet by now, but someone has turned me in. Or they’ve discovered my intentions through some other means.