by Cynthia Sax
All of her afterglow evaporated with his words. “What?” She turned to Krol. “You’re leaving me?” Her heart twisted.
He smiled, his expression tender. “I am not…leaving you, my Danielle.” Krol circled the love bite on her neck. “You will return to Sila with me. We will be bound until termination.” He glanced over his shoulder at the brightly lit ramp protruding from a spaceship.
And it had to be a spaceship. While they’d been fucking, the massive vessel had descended, flattened the trees underneath its rounded undercarriage, and she hadn’t heard a sound. It now floated half of a foot above the ground with no visible means of support and it was constructed of a metal she didn’t know existed. The matte-black finish sucked in all of the surrounding light, leaving a gaping void with the blurred edges concealing its true shape.
He wants me to board that thing with him. Danielle stared at the spaceship and then stared at Krol. “After one day, you expect me to leave my job, my friends, my planet and follow you, a complete stranger, across the universe? Are you out of your green-and-black mind? You—oomph.”
He tossed her over his shoulder and slapped her ass, ignoring her protests. “We are ready for departure.”
“Warrior Krol Nowak.” The green prissy alien stepped in front of him, his tall, lean form no match for Krol’s bulky muscle. “You are cognizant of the regulations. Your druzka must agree to the departure.”
“Yes,” Danielle crowed, expressing a satisfaction she didn’t feel. “I have a choice, and I choose to stay here on Earth.”
Krol lowered her slowly, sliding her naked form along his. Their gazes met and she sucked in her breath. Bleak emotion was reflected in his face, his eyes as black as the sky above them. “You will choose Sila.” His lips pressed into a thin dark line.
Danielle tilted her chin upward, placed her hands on her bare hips and issued her challenge. “Make me.”
His body blurred as he bent, straightened and reached toward her, his movements quicker than her eyes could follow. “You will choose Sila.” Krol pressed the cool metal of her space gun’s muzzle against her forehead.
They faced off against each other, two warriors, two lovers, fighting for different visions of the future. The puppy he’d given her whined at their feet, cocking his head from side to side, looking up at them. Her crushed roses scented the air. Krol’s left boot was planted on the flattened box of chocolates. Vulnerability softened his countenance.
Danielle smiled sadly. “You won’t shoot me.”
He sighed and his big, broad shoulders sagged. “You are correct.” Krol lowered the gun. “You are my druzka. I cannot harm you.”
Danielle had won, but it was a joyless victory. “Then I choose Earth.”
“Warrior Krol Nowak.” The prissy green alien tapped his large booted foot, impatient for Krol to leave Earth, to leave her.
Danielle glowered at him before focusing her attention back on Krol. “Make me,” she whispered. She brushed her fingers over his chest ridges. He was so strong, so powerful.
“Warrior Krol Nowak—”
“No.” Krol swept his huge hand downward and scooped up the puppy. “You will choose Sila, my Danielle.” He pointed the space gun at the pit bull’s head.
The puppy yipped excitedly and licked the barrel. He wagged his tail vigorously, shaking his small body. Krol pressed his nose against her pet’s, gazed into those big brown eyes and growled, the sound low and deep.
The yipping stopped. The pit bull puppy turned his muzzle toward Danielle, tilted his head and whimpered pitifully, the sound pulling at her heart.
She gritted her teeth. “Would you harm an innocent animal, my Krol?”
“I would terminate for you, my Danielle.” Krol’s green-and-black eyes blazed, his face hard with determination. His legs were braced apart and his gun hand was steady as he rubbed slow, soothing circles into the puppy’s belly.
Krol growled again. Her puppy rested his head woefully on his small paws and sighed as though all hope was lost, as though she’d failed him.
She couldn’t fail him. “I choose Sila.” Danielle folded her fingers over the muzzle of the gun, forcing Krol to lower the weapon.
“She chose Sila,” Krol announced loudly. The softer emotions were wiped from his face and he was once again the fierce warrior. “I have secured my druzka.” He barked to the puppy and released him. His co-conspirator jumped around his big boots, yipping with joy.
What have I done? Danielle stepped back from Krol, unsettled by his quick transformation. He didn’t allow her retreat. He grabbed her by the waist and slung her over his shoulder.
“I have completed my mission.” Krol slapped her bare ass, the pain awakening her to her new reality.
“Your mission? I’m only a mission to you?” Danielle fumed, kicking and punching him as he headed with her toward the painfully bright light.
“You are a critical mission. Together, we will produce many offspring, ensuring the continuation of my lineage.” He stomped up a ramp lined with aliens looking similar to him. They smiled and cheered and clapped each other on their shoulders, the puppy barking elatedly at the commotion.
“Hell no!” Danielle yelled, pounding Krol’s back ridges with her fists. “I choose Earth! I choose Earth!”
The ramp folded up behind them.
Chapter Three
“To Warrior Krol Nowak!” Fixer Vern Zajac raised his tankard of Silan ale. His stance was unsteady and the liquid spilled over the rim. The other males in the sustenance-consumption sector cheered.
Krol nodded his acknowledgement, holding his head high with pride.
Warrior Miar Najazd, the second best Silan warrior and his closest friend, grinned. “That you, without diplomatic connections, have secured your druzka gives us all hope.”
“The council delayed the mission for an excessive time interval, yet they could not deny me.” Krol drank from his tankard, wincing at the strong taste of the ale. “I am the best warrior.”
“Your druzka is a fierce warrior.” Envy colored Warrior Miar Najazd’s voice.
“She is the best Earth warrior.” A heat spread in Krol’s chest. His pitcher of ale had been consumed. He pushed away from the table, his single-ass support scraping along the floor. “I must fuck my druzka, filling her with my warrior seed.” The words spilled from his lips unfiltered.
Another cheer rocked the transport vessel’s sustenance-consumption sector.
“Warrior Krol Nowak.” Fixer Vern Zajac staggered to Krol’s side, his coworkers helping him remain upright. “We present you with a celebratory gift from the ship Fixers.” He held out a small jar.
“I thank you.” Krol accepted the jar. He removed the lid and sniffed. The gel smelled of dead animal skins.
“It is lube,” Fixer Vern Zajac proclaimed proudly. The other Fixers, clad in their distinctive blue uniforms, nodded eagerly. “We will observe the fucking of your druzka’s ass.” He paused and his smile dimmed. “From our sleeping chambers.”
Finally I will fuck my Danielle’s ass. Krol secured the jar to his garment. His spicka gyrated in anticipation and his joy spilled over. “You will watch from my sleeping chamber.” The males grinned and their eyes swirled with lust.
Krol turned to his friend. “Warrior Miar Najazd?”
The warrior’s gaze flicked over the many Fixers gathered around them. “I will watch from my vacant sleeping chamber.”
Krol nodded. His sleeping chamber would be crowded with stimulated males. “Come,” he barked to the Fixers, gesturing for them to follow him as he stalked down the corridor.
They neared his sleeping chamber and his Danielle’s angry words echoed down the corridor, her voice loud and shrill and strong. “You will watch. You will not touch,” he reminded the aroused and rowdy males. “If you touch my female, I will terminate you.”
Ridged heads bobbed in agreement.
Krol braced his body for a verbal attack and pressed his palm to the wall panel. The door slid ope
n with a hiss.
“About time, you inconsiderate ignoramus.” His Danielle struggled against her restraints. Her arms and legs were tied to the four corners of the sleeping support. “Because if you don’t let me go this very instant, I’m going to slice off your cock and stuff it up your ass.”
Their newly acquired canine punctuated her curses with sharp, nonsensical barks. Although Krol had previously explained the tactic wasn’t feasible, the four-legged warrior continued to snap at the window, attempting to catch the passing luminous balls of plasma.
“Great. You’ve brought the whole freaky gang with you.” His Danielle glowered at the Fixers crowded around her spread legs. Her pussy lips were open to their perusal, the delicate skin glistening with lubricating fluid. “Is that your mission? To get the entire ship off?” Her leg muscles rippled as she strained to close her thighs. She could not. Krol grinned. He had restrained her adequately.
“If they touch me…” His Danielle huffed, her fingers twisting around her bindings.
“No males will touch you,” Krol bellowed, incensed by the thought. “You are mine!”
She eyed him with great suspicion. He held her gaze, anger radiating from him. “Well, okay then.” She quieted, her body dipping toward the sleeping support.
The canine warrior, designated by his Danielle as “Puppy”, bounded toward them. He yipped joyous greetings, the flexible appendage at the rear of his torso sweeping back and forth.
“Canine warrior,” Krol barked, releasing his irritation upon the beast. “Retire to your quarters.”
The canine tilted his head and stared up at him with woeful eyes. He whined a protest, promising to protect them.
“Now.” Krol pointed toward the small inner chamber. Puppy cast him a sullen look and slunk away, his appendage dragging on the metallic floor.
The Fixers gathered around his Danielle buzzed with excitement. “I will verify.” Fixer Vern Zajac bent over and peered closer at his druzka’s exposed pussy. Krol stepped toward the male, his fists clenched, ready to terminate him if he dared to touch her. “Yes. She is hairless.” The males murmured their disappointment.
“Because I’m not an orangutan, you perverts,” his Danielle yelled, her cheeks flushed with pigment. Fixer Vern Zajac retreated with much haste and Krol chuckled at his warrior female’s ferocity.
He proudly took his rightful place between her legs. “Silence.” Krol slapped her bare thigh. “She is hairless, but she is smooth and soft,” he defended his druzka, placing his hand on her bare mons, relishing the feel of her skin.
“I am not soft.” She flashed her dazzling blue eyes. “Touch me again and I’ll…”
He raised his facial ridges at her incomplete threat. “You will do nothing.” Krol swatted her thigh, leaving a red handprint on her skin. She gasped and her pussy gushed with cream. “You cannot fight me.” He tugged on her ankle restraints. “You cannot move. You are my female to protect and my female to utilize” He yanked down his warrior garment, freeing his spicka. She watched him with wide eyes, her observation exciting him. “And I will utilize you, my Danielle.” He teased her with his tip, dipping his flesh into her moisture.
“In your—”
Krol thrust into his Danielle, filling her completely, and her wet heat enveloped his spicka. She screamed and lifted into him, bumping her hips against his. Sladky matka. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to spill his seed.
Fabric rustled behind him and Krol looked over his shoulder. The Fixers had shed their blue garments, the material pooled around their boots as they watched them, their spickas in their hands.
“They watch.” Krol grinned at his Danielle.
“They’re doing more than watching.” She pushed upward, taking more of his shaft into her small body, and he groaned, reveling in her snug embrace. “They’re working their wangs like they’ve never seen a pussy before.”
Krol rocked into her, slowly sliding his spicka between her pussy walls. “They fuck only simulators. Simulators are sensitive.” He frowned, relieved that he no longer required simulators for sexual release. “I bite them. They cry.”
Danielle’s lips curled upward. “Human males are sensitive too. I bite them. They cry.” She sighed, her firm breasts rising and falling. “I thought you were going to fuck me, my Krol. This touchy feely crap isn’t fucking.”
He glowered at her, irked by her criticism of his fucking skills. “You will endure any tactic I employ, my Danielle.” He increased the intensity of his thrusts, rocking the sleeping unit with his fervor, pounding her pussy into submission.
“Oh. Oh. Oh.” She pulled on her restraints, arching upward to meet each stroke.
“Fuck her harder,” a Fixer shouted as he fisted his spicka. “Harder!”
“Harder!” another Fixer joined the chanting. Soon, all were cheering him on, pumping their spickas to their war cries. Like a true warrior, Krol took up their challenge, ravaging his Danielle harder and harder, his veins pumping with exhilaration of battle.
He wielded his spicka like a fist, punching into her pussy, landing blow after blow inside her besieged body. She was defenseless against his assault, her limbs bound, her breathing harsh and ragged.
“My Krol! My Krol!” She cried her surrender, rising toward him, giving him her body as an erotic peace offering.
“My Danielle!” He added his triumphant cries to her sounds of passion and emptied his seed into her pussy. The males yelled their own release, splattering loads of white spunk on the metallic floor.
Krol’s hips jerked once, twice, three times without his authorization, and he stilled, a calm settling upon him as though he had returned to a rare place of refuge. He stroked his Danielle’s hips and gazed upon her with wonder and gratitude, a heat settling low in his chest.
“To Warrior Krol Nowak!” Fixer Vern Zajac shouted, and a round of congratulatory responses followed, the drunken males slapping Krol on his shoulder ridges. He reluctantly left the ecstasy of his druzka’s pussy, the recycled sleeping chamber air cooling his spicka, and he turned to accept their good wishes.
“Like I did nothing?” his Danielle muttered. She remained restrained, her legs spread and his seed glistening on her flesh.
“You are Warrior Danielle Nowak,” he consoled his disgruntled mate. “My victory is your victory.”
She narrowed her eyes as though she attempted to terminate him with her visual system. “What does that mean? I’m not your equal?”
“We are not equal.” He chuckled at the absurd thought. “You are a warrior. I am the best warrior.” Her blue eyes blazed with anger and he rushed to explain, “Your spirit is strong. Only your body is inferior. You are small and unprotected by body ridges, and you lack night-vision capabilities.”
“My body is inferior?” She increased her volume with each word. “You fart smeller,” she yelled, shaking with fury. “I’m surprised you want to abduct my inferior ass.” His Danielle clenched her restrained hands into small fists.
Krol covered her slender fingers with his, stimulated by her passion and rough sex talk. “I will fuck your inferior ass.” He lowered his gaze. “The angle is incompatible for entry.” He extracted a knife from his boot and slashed through her restraints. She fell. He caught her before she touched the sleeping support.
“Let. Me. Go.” She squirmed and kicked and punched. He flipped her over easily. “You sadistic monster.” Her knee connected with his hard spicka and Krol groaned, doubling over in pain while tightening his hold on her.
“Warrior Krol Nowak, do you require assistance?” A Fixer rushed to his side, reaching out with his healing hands.
“My Krol!” His Danielle recoiled from the approaching male and wrapped her naked body around Krol’s torso.
“Do not touch her,” he snarled, baring his teeth and rattling his ridges. The Fixer snatched his hands back. “Leave us.” Krol turned and huddled over her tiny form, placing his body protectively between the males and his druzka.
The
males exited their sleeping chamber, apologizing profusely. Krol ignored them, focusing his full attention on his Danielle. She curled up in his lap, clinging to his arms, and stared at him with wide eyes. Her body shook, her skin rubbing against his.
“I will protect you, my Danielle.” Krol carefully rested his forehead ridges against her smooth skin, brushing the tips of their noses. As their breaths mingled, he tasted the bitter flavor of her fear, and a killing rage clutched him, arresting all of his cognitive functions.
She is mine.
His Danielle touched his face, tracing his angles with her delicate fingertips, and petted his skin, calming him with her caresses. His chest warmed as Krol’s rage flowed into an emotion he had no name for. As the feelings originated with his Danielle, he released them back into her care, brushing his lips with hers, soothing the reddened flesh with his tongue. They kissed with a slow, evocative tenderness, finding their strength in each other.
“You…” She took a deep breath, the rise of her chest brushing her curves against his arm. “You must think I’m scared and weak.” She glared at him in challenge. “I’m not. I simply overreacted, that’s all. I know he wouldn’t have hurt me because he’s your friend, but we had rules, and following the rules is important because if one rule is broken, so is trust.” She tilted her chin upward.
Although he couldn’t decipher all of her word sharing, Krol understood the source of her fear. “No male will touch you, my Danielle,” he reassured her. He stroked her spine. The spot was soft and pleasing to the touch, but it was also devoid of hard bone, and vulnerable to attack. “I will keep you safe.”
“I could keep myself safe if I had a gun,” his Danielle grumbled.
Krol grinned. “I give you a weapon. You terminate me.” He hugged her closer to him.
“Likely.” She laughed, and the tightness inside him loosened. “But you deserve it, talking about me being a mission and my inferior ass.” His Danielle coupled her false frown with sparkling eyes.