by Luna Voss
Chapter Eight
The masked Kyrzon carries me, holding me tightly. Trees move past me in the dark. I have no idea where we’re going. I cling to his arm, feeling the taught muscles rippling under his skin. It’s been a while since we escaped from the battle. Neither of us has said anything. I keep expecting him to put me down, but he doesn’t, just keeps carrying me. In all honesty, I kind of like it. It’s easier than walking, and I feel very warm and comfortable with his arms wrapped around me.
Finally, after it feels like we’ve covered miles of distance, the alien stops.
“Are you hurt?” he asks me gruffly.
“N-no,” I tell him, finding my voice.
He throws down his backpack. “We will spend the night here.”
I just nod. I’m still getting over my shock and fear from the recent violence.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” he tells me, looking me in the eyes through his mask. For the first time, I look back at him, making something that approximates eye contact in the darkness. I shiver. There’s something intense, a sense of duty that he embodies, that shines through him like a beacon.
This is a man on a mission.
And right now, it seems like that mission is to keep me safe.
“What happened to Sam and May?” I ask, filled with concern for my friends. “And Judd?”
Karsh scratches his chin underneath his helmet. “I do not know. We were separated during the attack. When you and the other women ran into the woods, the battle followed. Judd and I were able to rescue Sam and May. I saw them onto the back of a tusk-ox. I believe that they are safe.”
“Why did you not go with them?”
He doesn’t look at me. “I needed to rescue you,” he says simply.
Oh. I watch as he pulls a simple bed roll out of his pack and spreads it out on the ground.
“Are we— are we sleeping together?” I ask hesitantly.
He turns to me, and I imagine from his tone that the expression behind his mask is one of amusement. “We are. It is safer.” He pauses, then he adds: “Sleeping, little one. Not mating. Do not get any ideas.”
The way he says it makes it sound like he thinks I’m the one most likely to try to initiate something. I snort. As if.
We climb into bed together (Karsh insists on keeping his dagger right next to the bed roll), and I struggle to get comfortable with this strange new sleeping situation. The bedding isn’t too bad, just a thin layer of something soft between us and the ground. The real obstacle is Karsh, and just how goddamn big he is. The bed roll we’re in is clearly Kyrzon-sized, but even so, Karsh takes up most of the space. Designed for one person, evidently, not two.
I scoot over as best I can as he slides under the covers next to me. My hands are still tied, limiting the positions I can lie down in. Part of me wants to ask him to untie them, but I don’t want to push my luck, and so I don’t. The Kyrzon shifts around next to me, trying himself to find a comfortable position.
I’ve never shared a bed with another person before, unless you count sleepovers with friends when I was a kid, and last night in the tent with everybody. The feeling of being so close to him is distracting. I can feel the warmth emanating from his body, and every time I shift positions, I brush against him.
The truth is, I like it when our bodies touch. There’s something comforting about it. It makes me feel nice and safe and a little bit tingly. And so as we lie in bed together, I stop trying to avoid bumping against him, and just let it happen. Pretty soon, our thighs are touching, and the side of my arm is rubbing against his. It isn’t much, but it feels nice in a way that I don’t really fully understand.
We fall asleep like that together under the stars.
* * *
When I wake up the next morning, it takes me a moment to remember where I am. And then it comes back to me: I’m with Karsh in the middle of the Kyrzon wilderness. It’s just the two of us now. Sam and May and the other Kyrzon Judd are gone.
As I come to reality, I become aware of the fact that Karsh’s and my positions have changed from where I remember us falling asleep the night before. Now we’re more or less cuddled up together. In fact, we’re practically spooning.
I have to say, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. Cuddling with him gives me warm, fuzzy feelings throughout my entire body. It’s really, really nice. Immediately, I know why the other girls in New Byzantium make such a big deal out of boys and dating. If this is what having a boyfriend is like, this is great.
But Karsh isn’t exactly my boyfriend. He’s an alien warrior who kidnapped me and is now keeping me prisoner. I haven’t even seen his face. Hell, my wrists are still tied together.
But that doesn’t make me feel any less warm or fuzzy as I lie there with his arms wrapped around me. It doesn’t make the beating of his heart any less comforting, or reduce the tingles I get as I feel his breath gently tickling my neck.
And it definitely doesn’t quell my sudden rush of excitement as I notice the sensation of something big and hard pressing against my butt.
At first, I think I’m imagining it. Or maybe that I’ve got it wrong. Maybe it’s Karsh’s belt buckle, or another dagger he has hidden in his belt. I shift positions slightly, wiggling my butt against the hard thing, whatever it is.
The Kyrzon starts to move, pulling me closer to him like I’m a teddy bear. I wiggle my butt a little more, and he lets out a soft groan, still seemingly asleep.
Okay then. Definitely not a dagger. My mind races with what to do with this information. Unfortunately, I don’t see how it does me much good. At least, not in terms of escaping from him, or finding my way back to New Byzantium.
Although truthfully, escape isn’t exactly the first thing on my mind at this moment. Intellectually, I know that I should probably want to get away from my captor if possible, but on a purely physical level, I’m overcome with all of the very insistent, inconvenient urges of being a sexually inexperienced (or should I say repressed) 19-year-old girl.
My brain says one thing, but my hormones say something entirely different.
Thankfully, at least for the sake of reducing my cognitive dissonance, the only path for me right now is to keep traveling with Karsh. There would be no point in trying to run off now into the unfamiliar wilderness. I would just be fulfilling what everyone in New Byzantium probably already believes, that I got eaten by a pack of raptors.
Karsh grunts behind me, pressing himself a little bit harder into my ass. I sigh, focusing on the sensation. I’m quite certain at this point that what I’m feeling is his erect cock, and that knowledge fills my thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
This hunky alien is hard for me. The feeling of my butt pressing against him is having such a physical effect on him that he can’t control himself, even in his sleep.
Of course, I’m wide-awake, and he’s sure as hell having an effect on me. The feeling of his cock against my ass, even through multiple layers of clothing, is making me feel desires that I’ve never felt before. Or at least, desires that have only ever been fantasies, rather than real situations.
Karsh is a real situation. He’s flesh and blood, lying right behind me, his shaft pressing firmly against my behind. His arms are squeezing me, holding me close to him, one of his huge hands resting over my breast.
Honestly? A little bit frustrating. If I were alone and my hands were untied, at least maybe I could do something about it.
It’s not until several minutes later that he starts to stir. Slowly at first, and then the rhythm of his breathing is interrupted, and I feel his eyes open behind me.
Karsh takes his hands off me quickly, as though embarrassed. He scoots away from me in bed, and my body feels a sense of disappointment as all at once, the cuddles and touching disappear.
“I will return,” he grunts, getting up from the bed roll. I shiver as cold air rushes in under the blanket, and my eyes follow him as he walks into the bushes and behind a tree nearby.
&nbs
p; Whoops! I look away quickly as I realize the obvious fact that he must be peeing. Not trying to be a creeper!
But then, I realize that he’s taking longer than I would expect it to take for him to pee.
And not just that. I hear some kind of rustling sound coming from behind the tree. A rustling sound that isn’t the wind.
I frown, listening. What the hell is he doing back there? It sounds like he’s scratching an itch, or doing something else that involves the rhythmic movement of…
Heat rushes into my face as I suddenly realize exactly what it is the Kyrzon went into the bushes to do:
Karsh is masturbating.
He’s touching himself. Relieving himself of his urges.
Urges he has because of me. Urges that I gave him. Urges, specifically, that came from spending most of the last night with his cock pressed against my ass.
The realization makes me feel oddly powerful, even as at the same time, it turns me on. To know that I would have such a powerful effect on him, that I aroused him so badly he needed to make himself come before he could continue the rest of his day with me, is a straight-up confidence boost, no matter how you frame it.
I wish I had a similar way of relieving my own arousal. Because right now, I’m pretty sure I’m just about as turned on as he is. Only for me, it’s a little bit more difficult to do something about, considering my hands are tied together. Great. So I guess I’ll just be sexually frustrated all day. So unfair.
The rustling sound gets faster, and I hear the low, barely-stifled sound of Karsh letting out a soft groan.
Then the rustling stops.
A few moments later, Karsh appears from the woods. “I will allow you privacy to take care of your needs, and then we will eat. And then we will travel on.”
Chapter Nine
I’m not sure whether or not I prefer walking through the forest to traveling by tusk-ox. On the one hand, riding the tusk-ox was easy. Walking is tiring. On the other hand, it feels really good to be traveling under my own steam, moving my legs, actually getting to do something. All in all, I feel like this is probably an improvement.
That said, we’re moving a lot slower. I didn’t realize how much easier tusk-oxen made it to traverse this planet. Now every tree, every too-tall bush, every fallen log is an obstacle. And with my hands tied together, a much bigger obstacle than it would have been otherwise. I end up walking very close to Karsh, letting him help me. He doesn’t seem to mind doing so, going so far as to pick me up by my waist and lift me over the things I can’t easily scramble over.
“Where are we going?” I ask him, somewhat nervously. It kills me that I know so little about what my future is to hold.
“Home,” he grunts. “To what you would call the Far Territories.”
I gulp. “We’re not going to try to meet up with Judd and the other women?”
“No. Judd will be doing the same thing. That was the plan. If for any reason we were separated, we were to travel home with whatever Brides we had.”
I hesitate. That was the plan. I want to ask more questions, to find out more about this plan, and the circumstances that led to him kidnapping us. I jump over a hole in the ground, trying to think of the best way to inquire further.
“So your mission was to capture women from Human Territory?” I ask finally, walking next to him.
He turns to me, his helmet flashing in the sunlight. “Yes.”
Okay, then. Not exactly a detailed answer, but he doesn’t seem opposed to me asking questions.
“How did you know where to find us? Did you just travel around Human Territory until you found a group of women?”
“We knew you would be there,” Karsh says. “Chief Nerkesh had inside information.”
That gives me two different things to follow up on. The idea that they were acting on information from inside Human Territory is shocking, but also seems somewhat immaterial, given the fact that I’ll probably never enter Human Territory again. I decide to pursue the second piece of information, which seems more relevant to my own immediate circumstances.
“Chief Nerkesh? Is that your clan leader?”
“Yes.”
“Was he with you on the raid?”
Karsh snorts under his helmet. “No. He’s in Human Territory, pressuring your city’s governor to offer him more Brides.”
“He’s pressuring New Byzantium for more Brides politically, and also having them kidnapped at the same time?”
Karsh doesn’t answer. My ankle gets caught in some kind of tall, incredibly thick grass, and I hurry to catch up with him.
“Why does your clan need Brides so badly?” I ask. “Why can’t you just buy them at the auctions, the way all the other clans do?”
I hear him sigh. “We can buy them at the auctions, and we do. But it is not enough. And it is not just our clan that is in need. It is every clan in the Far Territories that requires women. Far more women than we currently have access to through the auction process. It is destroying our ability to live the way we always have.”
“Doesn’t every Kyrzon clan need more women then it can get?” I ask him tentatively, frowning. “I thought that in every clan, only a small percentage of the warriors would have Brides.”
“This is true,” says Karsh. “And it is never ideal. But in the Far Territories, it is different. Even just traveling to Human Territory to purchase a woman is treacherous. We must contend not only with the risk of predators and the length of the journey, but also with other clans attacking us to steal our women. They know we have far to travel, and that our resources are limited. They will attack wherever they see weakness. As you witnessed last night.”
I stay silent for a moment, thinking about this. In truth, I had never really considered the social dynamics of the Kyrzon clans, or what effect it might have for only a tiny percentage of their society to be made up of women. I had always known that human women were valuable, and highly prized by these aliens. But it hadn’t occurred to me just how deep the effects of this might run. Or that the tribes living farthest from Human Territory would face much greater struggles in acquiring mates.
“So… you undertook this mission out of duty to your clan?”
Karsh stops. “I undertook this mission out of duty to all the clans in my homeland,” he tells me, a level of passion in his voice that I haven’t heard before. “Let me tell you something, little human: I don’t even like my clan. Chief Nerkesh is a piece of shit. But our way of life is dying. Many warriors who go to the auctions never return. Some are killed and their Brides stolen, and some merely choose to settle closer to the border, in this land of plenty. But regardless, we are a people in crisis. I did not want to go on this mission. I chose to do it for the good of my people.”
He starts walking again, and I follow, considering his words. This definitely helps me to understand his motivations, even if it doesn’t exactly excuse the fact that he kidnapped me. There’s obviously more to this big, masked alien than meets the eye.
“Why do you wear masks?” I inquire, unable to resist. “All of you were wearing them. Is this something that all Kyrzons from the Far Territories do?”
He chuckles, the sound muffled slightly by his helmet. “No, not all. But many of the clans do keep this ritual. Including my own, Clan Nerkesh.”
“So you have to wear them all the time? Even when you eat and sleep?”
“I am allowed to be unmasked only around my clanmates. Around anyone else, human or Kyrzon, I must cover my face.”
This fascinates me. “Why? What does it mean?”
“In our tribe, to reveal your face to another is considered to be a gesture of extreme intimacy. A gesture of vulnerability. Of weakness, in certain contexts. It is only to be done around those in whom you have the utmost trust.”
As we continue to trudge through the forest, I think about what life would be like wearing a mask all the time. I feel like my relationship with my own face would be different if I had to keep it hidden. Nobody would
be able to see my expressions. Nobody would know if I smiled, or frowned, or made any other expression. Even just eating and drinking would be different.
I wouldn’t be able to kiss.
“How do…” I break off, embarrassed. I shouldn’t ask him that.
“How do, what?” he asks, turning to me.
I feel myself blush, and unlike him, I don’t have a mask to cover the slight redness that tinges my dark cheeks. “Never mind, it’s nothing.”
His tone gives me the impression that he’s smiling under his helmet. “It’s okay, little human. I’m sure you have many questions. You may ask me whatever you like.”
I hesitate. I guess I have nothing to lose. “How do you kiss?”
He laughs, the sound rich and hearty. “I’m afraid I do not kiss. Or at least, I never have.”
I guess that makes two of us. I fall silent as we continue to walk, thinking.
Chapter Ten
“What’s that?” I ask as we crash through the forest. “Do you hear that?”
Karsh stops. He puts a hand up to the side of his helmet where I imagine his ear to be. “I hear it,” he says. “Stay still.”
I freeze, listening. Are we in danger? Only a moment ago, I heard the unmistakable sound of something in the bushes near us.
“Right there,” Karsh whispers, pointing at a nearby tree. “Look, behind the tree.”
I look where he’s pointing, and I’m amazed to see an adorable, furry little creature poke his head out from behind the trunk. It looks like something in between a teddy bear and a puppy.
“Aw, it’s so cute!” I exclaim. “What is it?”
“It’s a tusk-bear cub,” Karsh tells me.
My jaw drops. I’ve never seen a tusk-bear before, but I’ve heard stories. They’re enormous, predatory creatures with deadly tusks coming out of the front of their faces. I feel like almost every year, New Byzantium loses someone in a tusk-bear attack. I would never have imagined their babies to be so cute.