by Lee Savino
I run a hand down my armored chest. To have another being sensing every mood? Experiencing feedback from my emotions? At one point in my life, I was prepared for such a thing. It was all I wanted. Now...
“A bond is not necessary. The Jabol gave us Tribute Dawn without knowing if it was even possible.”
“Medik thinks it is. He has been studying our biology and it has changed after Dawn and I fully bonded. Not to mention the mating marks.” He pauses as if considering what to say next. “That’s another reason we chose you. You were at the end of your tour and ready to attend the Mating Festival. You had gone through training for the transition. Like Medik, you would have been the first to return planet side.” He doesn’t continue to explain what went wrong. He doesn’t have to.
When our ships returned to our home planet Tsentur, we found nothing but an asteroid field. We’d already known something was wrong when no one answered our coms, but we hadn't expected the entire planet to be gone. As the shock of what happened settled in, the High Commander ordered all members of the crew to battle stations. We all kept busy, under orders to hide and remain alert as we scanned for evidence of what happened. There was nothing we could do but search for the enemy who’d caused the destruction.
The Commander himself had remained on the bridge for over a semi-cycle, retreating to his away room for the barest amount of time to rest. The rest of us ate and slept as little as possible before returning to our posts. The few who broke down were given sick leave, sent to the medical bay and sedated. But many of us, me included, remained on duty as long as we could, so when we returned to our bunks, we fell asleep immediately, too exhausted to dream.
Our military training saved us. There was no time for me to sit in my quarters and grieve. We had an enemy to find and punish.
We’ve been hunting ever since.
And until now, I hadn't had to dwell on what I'd lost.
The air in the Commander’s quarters is thin. Or my suit is too tight. I find I can barely breathe, and I flex my fingers, which have gone strangely numb. Yes, I was to attend the Mating Festival. Everyone knew that.
But I do not speak out of turn. I had told no one that I had already chosen my mate. That I was not looking for one, but that I would be presenting myself to a female for courtship. That she had already told me, before that last trip, that she would wait for me. I had wanted to be sure of her, to have the official acceptance of my interest, before I spoke of her to anyone.
“That was a long time ago.” My voice is raw. Strangled by the past, by a memory of a sweet voice and warm smile. A female who was as delicate as she was beautiful, as kind as she was shy, and as enamored with me as I had been with her. I would have done anything for her... and instead, I did nothing. I was not there.
I failed her.
“Bogdan." Gavrill's deep voice breaks through the blackness that has engulfed me.
I turn. My reflection in the mirrored section behind him shows my armor has grown into full battle mode, without my conscious intent, complete with vicious spikes along my shoulders. As if I faced the enemy in these quarters, not my own Commander.
His voice is gentle. “You are my most trusted officer. Number two in the entire Tsenturion fleet. You always do your duty.”
“Yes.”
“Then I trust you in this. Get to know Pareena. Bond with her. Through the Tribute program we have a chance to reclaim some of what we had.”
Never. I want to howl. We will never have another Mating Festival. There will never be a time when young warriors and their brides meet under the blooming night flowers and dance until dawn. And I will never see... her... again. This time I am prepared for the pain and I do not lose myself in the memories.
Gavrill claps a hand on my shoulder, avoiding the armored spines. “It’s not easy. I know what you lost.”
“I did not have a mate.” Only a promise. Sometimes, in my dreams, I smell the night flowers.
“But you were closer to getting one than all of us." He regards me solemnly, even though he does not know how very close I was. "And now you have Pareena, the second Tribute of all time. Your loyalty and sense of duty has earned this reward.”
“Reward?” I want to smash my fist into his unprotected face. “Would you give one to Medik? Who was mated for twenty deca-cycles and lost his whole family?” Tsenturions mate for life. To replace a mate is to spit upon the bonding ceremony. Many of us suspect that if we had not needed him so much, Medik would have followed his mate and family into death.
“No,” the Commander has the good sense to drop his hand. He stays close and does not shift into a defensive stance. He is taller than me, though not as tall as Arkdhem. But I am broader. We would be evenly matched in a fight. “I would not dishonor him that way. But you were never mated. It is this loss that plagues you.”
“We all lost.” I know he is correct. I never mated. I owe her nothing... except justice. Vengeance. The eradication of those who took her life like she was nothing, like none of us were.
“Other’s pain does not detract from your own. Forgive me, old friend. I knew you were grieving but didn’t know how much. You feel things more deeply than most. The prettiest castle has the highest walls,” he quotes an old Tsenturion sage, his eyes sympathetic. Although I have never mentioned her to him, he now sees something that he had not before. Perhaps his bond with Tribute Dawn has made him more sensitive to such things.
The mirror beyond us reflects our contrasting forms. Me in full armor and the High Commander’s armor in its resting state. I give the silent order to my suit to retract a little. The spikes slide away and the helmet recedes into my neck.
“I am not pretty,” I mutter. “I am a warrior.”
“Indeed.” Gavrill puts his hand on my shoulder. “And I trust you will do your duty, whatever it may be.”
Yes. I will do my duty to my Tribute. I will still avenge our people... and her. Somehow, I will find a way to do both. But my resolve is not reflected back at me; instead I see a hollowness when I look at myself. I am not the only one, either.
“Courage, Bogdan. You are the finest warrior in the fleet. You will not fail in this. Now. Return to your Tribute. Fetch her some food along the way. If she is resting, she will surely wake in need of nourishment. You do not want her to become hangry."
What the drakk is 'hangry'?
7
Pareena
I wake up at a noise, aching and yet deliciously satisfied. The soft bedding beneath me feels almost like a cozy little cocoon. So much better than a hospital bed. It might even be better than my bed at home. Thanks brain!
Pushing up on one elbow, I turn toward the noise that woke me and blink when I see Bogdan standing in the middle of the room with a tray.
"Master?" I blink, just to see if he disappears, but no... my alien fantasy dream continues. "I fell asleep." Does one sleep in dreams? Apparently, I do. Perhaps there are levels to a coma and sometimes I slip into a deeper one.
I watch as he sets the tray down. Nothing on it looks even remotely familiar but some of it smells appealing and my stomach grumbles.
"You needed rest." He comes toward me, looking at me strangely. There is something almost wary about his demeanor, which I do not understand at all.
Sitting down on the bed, he looks me over, studying me. The sheets have pooled around my hips, leaving my upper body completely naked. The training belt is back around my lower body, I can feel its snug grip against my hips and pussy, but I don't feel any need to try and cover myself.
Almost tentatively, he reaches out and traces a finger down the center of my nose and then over my cheekbones, like he's trying to map my features. Arousal stirs at his touch, innocent though it is.
My hand creeps over to touch his thigh and my eyes drop down. Pretty sure I just saw something move there, his bulge beginning to grow. Oh yes. Alien fantasy is back online and raring to go.
"Do you need me, Master?" I ask, my voice sultry.
His answers sh
ocks me.
"No."
My mouth drops open, my hand freezing. Wait, what? That's definitely never happened in my fantasies before.
"You must eat." He stands, holding out his hand as if to help me up from the bed. "And then I will bathe you."
As if on cue, my stomach grumbles.
Well, okay. I feel hungry. Although I know the hospital is taking care of my physical needs, I wouldn't mind actually eating something. Especially if I'm able to taste it. Frllil never fed me anything except 'nutrient water,' which he said took care of all my needs. I figured that was my brain's interpretation of an IV or maybe a feeding tube.
But hey, the sex feels real and pretty amazing, maybe the food will taste real too. I'm willing to try.
"These are the things Tribute Dawn seems to like the most," Bogdan says as he leads me over to the table. Wow. Seriously, it all looks super alien. Sitting next to me, Bogdan picks up an orange-y cube that doesn't actually look like food to me and brings it to my lips. "Here. Try this. It is a fruit that she eats almost every meal."
I mean, my brain made it up, how bad can it be?
I open my lips and allow him to feed me.
To my shock, it's good. Fruity, almost like a citrus taste but not like any citrus I've ever eaten. It's like if a lemon was combined with a peach and had the texture of Jello. While I became really tired of Jello in the hospital, the flavor more than makes up for it.
I can taste again.
Looking up at him, I lick my lips. "Yummy. What else?"
Bogdan
Your Tribute is a gift.
I cannot bond with her. I do not want to, and I know that will be enough to keep the bond from forming. It does not appear where it is not welcome. But I can train her to be in tune with me. I can come to know her and become in tune with her.
Perhaps it will be sufficient. The Jabol certainly thought it would be, when they sent Tribute Dawn to us. We should not have to bond to be fully biologically compatible.
The High Commander and Medik will have to accept that as the best I can do. Tribute Pareena and I will not bond but she will still bear my young. If I claim her in this way, they will not reassign her to another warrior. Like Arkdhem.
Having the facsimile of a bond is not a hardship. I do not mind feeling her joy as she tastes the food I have brought. It seems she likes similar things to Tribute Dawn. Her teeth nipping at the tips of my fingers is both pleasant and arousing. At some point I will have to actually join with her. I do not think that will be a hardship either, yet...
Somehow, I do not feel ready.
The High Commander will not try to take her from me so soon after our discussion though. He does not know what I do or do not do in my own rooms. No one need know that I have not claimed her body yet.
It feels like another betrayal to her to even contemplate doing so, but I know I must. If I do not, eventually the High Commander may feel that he has erred in giving her to me and he might try to take her away. To give her to another.
Possessive anger, erupts inside of me. I am being forced along a path that I did not wish to take, far faster than I would go by my own choice.
“Master?” The soft question is accompanied by a hand upon my arm. "I’m finished eating. Are—are you alright?"
I realize I do not know how long I have been sitting there, not feeding my Tribute, while she took care of herself. I inwardly curse myself for not paying attention. I must do my duty.
“Come. I must bathe you.” I scoop her up. She yelps in surprise, but grabs hold of my shoulders, pressing her soft body into mine. She has no fear of me, despite my abrupt actions, which I admire.
At my unspoken command, water pours into the massive bathing tank. Colorful soaps add a sweet, floral scent to the water. When I set my Tribute down onto the first ledge, she hisses as the shallow water laps at her waist.
“Are you hurt?” The Jabol chose a race that would match our anatomy, but perhaps immersion in water isn’t something she’s used to? There were bathing scenes in the manuals though. Hygiene seems important to their courtship rituals, I thought.
“No. Only sore. The water feels good.” She scoots down to a lower ledge, immersing herself further. “This tub is huge.” She giggles, the happy sound echoing off the hard surface of the bathing chamber. "All I need is some bubbles and I'd be set."
I do not understand what she means by bubbles, but seeing her cavorting in the tub, water sliding over and off of her skin, I feel my arousal rising again. With a mental command, my armor recedes, leaving me with nothing covered but my groin. Allowing my cock and seela loose now is too much temptation to bear.
“Come here,” I order, and she scoots toward me with a smile. I stroke water droplets off her face when she reaches me, cupping her cheeks with my hands. “Present for inspection.”
With my help, she gets on all fours on the highest ledge, where the water is shallow. I run a hand down the curve of her back and note her response. We are both humming in pleasure.
I enjoy touching my Tribute. From the way her breath stutters as my large hands coast over her back and backside, she enjoys my touch too. I reach under her to rub soap into her gently swaying breasts and she closes her eyes. With her head tipped back, I can watch every nuance of her blissful expression.
“You don’t have to wash me, Master.” Her voice is a low purr.
“You are my Tribute. It is my duty.” I gather more soap onto the washing cloth and swirl it over her collarbone. My hand is so large it can cover most of her chest. I could break her, snap her bones easily, and I remind myself to be gentle.
I position her before me, having her tilt her head back to wash her hair. I am thorough, massaging her scalp as she sways on her feet, totally relaxed. I have to pick her up to return her to the top step.
Rinsing my fingers, I touch her face again, tracing the fine features. “You are so small.”
“You are very large.” Her mouth tips up and I can’t help rubbing my finger over the pad of her lower lip. Soft as a petal.
Boldly, she rises to face me, water streaming off her flawless skin. Her hand stretches towards my bicep, the curve of my muscle uncovered by armor. She hesitates.
“You may touch me,” I allow softly. My skin prickles and I swallow to hide my need.
Pareena
I kneel in between Bogdan’s massive thighs, in a tub that makes me think of when Harry uses the Prefect's bathroom in the fourth book, and I run my fingers over his gold skin. His shiny hide is smooth, hairless, almost poreless. Tougher than my skin, but not as tough as the armor that seems to be a part of him. The black material is the skimpiest I've seen so far. Bogdan’s version of letting down his guard, perhaps? His groin and upper thighs are still covered, his muscles bulging as if they’ll burst at any moment.
There’s an interesting bulge at his crotch. Large enough to make my mouth dry. What does alien peen look like? The books I read on Earth only seemed to have one consistent rule about the alien heroes: Always upgrade the dick.
What’s hiding under that suit? Some sort of Bad Dragon worthy dong? Is he hiding it until I’m so consumed with lust when he whips it out, I won’t run screaming?
Which brings me to another realization: somehow in the middle of all the orgasms, I kind of missed that he never actually had sex with me.
“What do you want me to do?” I meet his gaze, flirtatiously smiling up at him. Not sure why I’m so eager to take our physical relationship to the next level, when obviously I don't need sex for orgasms, but I am. My eagerness might have something to do with his Mr. Universe level muscles. Or the strong-jawed beauty of his face. He hasn’t smiled or shown any pleasant expression, but the longing I feel restrained under his iron self-control is a turn on. He wants me. He just doesn’t want to show it.
It's my damn coma dream, I should be able to get a smile out of him if I want it. And I should be able to get laid. Come on, subconscious. Get with the program.
He shifts on the edge
of the tub and strokes my wet hair back from my face. Catches my chin in strong fingers, holding my face immobile, and looks deep in my eyes. Searching for something? I stare back at him, waiting.
Finally, he lets go. “You will bathe me.”
Holy hell. Yes. I grab the washcloth he used on me and dip it into the bowl of soap-like substance. He slides fully into the water with me, so I can easily wash his torso. I enjoy touching his muscles, even though it doesn't really seem like his gleaming skin needs actual washing.
My brow furrows in confusion when I start to move the cloth lower, nearly reaching where his armor still covers him, and he catches my arms, stopping me.
“What about—”
“Enough. I will finish bathing you.”
Dammit. I was just getting to the good part!
He turns me around and positions me as he wants. I’m bent forward so my arms prop on the top of the tub, I’m sticking my butt right at him. I know what’s coming.
He nudges my feet apart and I obey, quivering. Touch me!
He spends countless seconds running his hands up and down my legs, pressing on my back to make my bottom arch up further, combing my wet hair to the side.
Come on, come on. Finally, he stands behind me, parting my inner thighs until I’m on display the way he wants, my bottom cheeks parted and nether parts flashing him. He rubs soap into my still sore bum with a touch as light as butterfly wings. His fingers drift over my pussy.
Yes, yes, yes...! I resist the urge to writhe. I don’t move, don’t breathe, wanting him to give me more.
“So small.” He penetrates me with a finger and my body clamps on it. More, more, more!
To my dismay he rinses me and moves on. He dips the washcloth between my cheeks, then loses it to spread soap directly on my anus. The little hole tingles, but I don't protest. I want to see where this is going.
“And tight,” he pushes a finger into my bottom, and I give a frustrated hum when it slides back out almost immediately. Then he starts squeezing my battered cheeks—a sensation that’s uncomfortable in the most delicious way—and parting them, angling them so he can examine the small pucker. He sticks his face close and I can feel his hot breath against my sensitive skin. Nerve endings I didn’t know I had come to life.