Alien Girls

by Rodzil LaBraun

  Cinnamon tackled any issues that she had with the cargo unloading quickly. She needed permission to stack the goods farther away from the ship to allow room for incoming cargo since the company wouldn't be able to pick them up until the next day.

  Strawberry inquired about purchase options. There weren't any contracts available for interstellar shipments leaving the planet. All of those were done by the star system's stations to provide a profit for the middleman. We would have to buy what this city had to offer outright, then sell wherever we liked. Since it would take two days before the goods arrived at our dock, we were hoping to get a better deal elsewhere.

  Unlike Cinnamon, Strawberry did not maintain a completely professional manner in dealing with the poorly behaving shop folk. I had seen it before. She used her physical attractiveness and charming personality to improve her side in negotiations. With these particular guys, she went a little overboard in my opinion.

  I spent my time studying the men closely. In my experience, there were different types of guys that stared shamelessly at beautiful women. Those that simply couldn't help it due to a lack of exposure to such beauty, but otherwise were harmless. Those that liked to have a little fun but would shy away if a problem arose. Then came the category that I was most familiar. Prison inmates, rough bar crowd, adrenaline junkie locker room boys. I judged two of these workers to be of that dangerous group.

  One of the bad guys circled us slowly. I didn't think that he was attempting to get a tactical advantage. It was more like he was trying to get a better view of Cinnamon's ass. My girl was getting extremely uncomfortable. The other dude looked like he was about to grab Strawberry's backside. He was flexing his fingers with his hand extended.

  "Excuse me," I said to the most immediate threat. "What is your job here?"

  The guy stared at me blankly without backing up despite my close proximity. The others were certainly taking notice. Strawberry seemed to realize for the first time how close the man’s hand was to her generously proportioned buttocks.

  "I'm a loader supervisor," the guy grunted, keeping half his mouth closed as if he was chewing tobacco.

  "Perhaps you should get back to it," I told the man with a firm tone. Instantly I saw what I was looking for. That indicator in his eyes to reveal how he would respond.

  You couldn't always judge how volatile a man was by his actions. He might back away, even apologize. But then later come at you when you don't expect it. However, the eyes never lied.

  This guy was definitely trouble.

  The worker behind me was squeezing in anticipating a conflict. I stepped back abruptly to land my heel on the toe of his boot while swinging my knuckles accidently into his crotch. He couldn't step back because of his shoe being pinned. Though not doubling over in pain, his privates were obviously less than comfortable.

  "Oh, sorry about that," I said to play it off like a mishap. "Are you okay?"

  The first guy aggressively stepped toward me. I placed on hand on his chest to keep him at a manageable distance. At six inches shorter than me I figured my reach gave me an advantage should this confrontation come to blows. When the man grabbed my wrist, his supervisor finally spoke up.

  "Stay that!" the man behind the counter told his workers. "We don't want any issues here."

  Cinnamon was already halfway to the door, stepping backwards to keep an eye on everyone. Strawberry was more confident, but still putting some distance between herself and the lowlife scum that worked there.

  "We'll check out some other offers and get back to you," my red-haired negotiator told them. She wasn't rattled, but concern was noticeable in her expression and tone.

  No one followed us as we headed for the door. We were still strapping on our breathers as the arid chemical stench outside hit us. I was able to recover from coughing quicker this time around.

  "Can't we just receive offers from inside the ship?" Cinnamon asked.

  "These people like to do business face-to-face," Strawberry told her. "If we want good prices, I'll need to be able to do my thing."

  "I think your thing almost got us into trouble back there," Cinnamon told her with an edge in her voice.

  "Box girl, you don't know what in the galaxy you are talking about," she responded angrily.

  "Hold up girls," I said as I stepped between them. "Let's stay united here. Will every company in this entire city be run by hoodlums?"

  "What is a hoodlum?" Strawberry asked, not surprisingly. She had a bit of an attitude still remaining from Cinnamon's comment.

  "We don't have a lot of experience with planet folk," Cinnamon explained. "But I have to doubt that they are all like that."

  We went to the next shop and were happy to find a lone woman behind the counter. She wasn't exactly what you would call a looker either. She was sitting on a high stool to give us a good view of her body rolls. The neck and chin had multiple layers as well. Her hair was formed into a massive orange beehive with strings of beads weaved through. But her smile looked genuine.

  "Hello, you beautiful people," the woman greeted us as soon as we unstrapped our breathers. "You must be from the Ma-Day-Hoo."

  "The what?" Cinnamon asked with a chuckle as she strolled up to the counter without hesitation.

  "Your ship, darling. You three are from the interstellar commerce ship, correct? Oh girl, you smell sweet and spicy. Lean over here for me."

  My girl barely moved forward at all, but that didn't keep the beast of a woman from indulging in a whopping good sniff through vibrating nostrils. "Oh, I love my cinnamon," she said lustfully.

  "Me too," I quickly replied.

  "Oh, I bet you do, you tall drink of what ails me," she responded with an exaggerated wink that more resembled the onset of a stroke. I laughed outright at the gesture as well as the expression. "And this shortcake you got here is just as tasty looking."

  "Thank you," Strawberry replied happily. I could clearly see that she was already in negotiator mode. "Yes, we are from the Mavdaios and are looking for a good company to deal with amicably. What is your name?"

  "They call me Cheeky," she said with a grin that pushed her red cheeks even wider. When I laughed, she said, "Your good-looking hunk of man gets it. Well, darling we are that good company."

  "Yes, we are," a man said as he walked into the room from a back office. Based on how he was dressed I would assume he outranked our friendly greeter. The way he eyeballed my two ladies gave me the same concern as the last place. But this guy looked more like the kind that would blow a lot of money at the strip club and not put up a fit when the girls shut him down for after-hours activity.

  "Shimmy, don't make these girls uncomfortable," Cheeky chastised him. If it weren’t for her appearance, I would have considered her own behavior exceedingly off-putting. "I'd hate to see their captain bust your head wide open with his potato lifter."

  The woman went on to explain that they sell a lot of potatoes and she was referring to my hand and muscular arm. Strawberry began working her wiles on the woman but honestly, she seemed quite agreeable right from the start. I did know some cons in my day that would use a warm greeting as part of their game. Maybe Cheeky was like them.

  "What are you selling, baby doll?" Cheeky asked in her louder than necessary voice. It assuredly completed the overbearing but comical persona.

  "Sorry, we already sold to the rough guys next door. Our cargo was under contract."

  "Those terd suckers!" she hollered. "Well, that ain't no sweat off my balls. What are you buying then?"

  I tensed up as I realized that what sat Jabba-the-Hutt style in front of us might actually be a man instead of a woman. To me that made everything considerably less funny, but I didn't want to ruin the mood.

  "We'll go fifty-fifty on food staples and exotics," Strawberry told her.

  My first officer had already informed me in advance that we had more than enough money to fill our holds completely with potatoes and lettuce. Carrying high priced goods instead would reduce the amo
unt of space required and increase our profit. Exotics though didn't sell well everywhere. That cargo may be more of a risk, depending on our next destination.

  I learned a lot about transporting different kinds of goods from Cinnamon. She explained that anything that required a specific environment different than our cargo holds provided would be shipped in containers that supplied it, such as refrigeration.

  Cheeky ran down the list of exotic foods that they had available. There weren't many. Then she told us about the unusual crystal art sculptures they had for sale. Strawberry shied away from them, but they sounded fascinating to me.

  "The artist makes a wire shape and buries it just under the sand," Cheeky enlightened us. "He uses his special mix of chemicals to keep the ground moist and clinging toward his creation. A pole then is erected in that spot and connected to the wire. When the storms roll through, lighting strikes the pole and electrifies the whole thing. If he's lucky, it does. The result is some desirable artwork that sells well on the nicer stations."

  Seeing my interest Shimmy went to the back and quickly emerged with a sample. It was strapped to a plastic panel to keep it from breaking, but it was easy for me to see the value. The crystal had formed in perfect shape with varying colors at the right points. The result was the form of a man running with a large bird flying above him, possibly in pursuit. It made me think of an attacking dragon. Connecting the two objects was an impossibly thin wire that must have ran through the entire sculpture.

  I insisted that we buy two crates of the stuff. Strawberry fought me on it just enough to get a price reduction. Then we went heavier on the regular food stuffs to balance our risk. Cinnamon assisted in the assortment so that our central hold would be filled with the more valuable containers.

  We returned to the ship after that in search of better air to breathe. Our respirators were designed to filter dangerous particles, but they couldn't completely remove the foul stench of this planet.

  Once back inside Vanilla informed me that all our new recruits needed some outdoor activity. As if I didn’t already know that. Teddy, Aeren and Mixi were eager to exit the ship, but it was mostly Gako and Dawynda running amok. Unfortunately, it looked like at least one day before we could leave with our new cargo.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:

  I decided against bar and restaurant visits at this location. There was too much risk of stirring up trouble. This city was not accustomed to overly attractive women apparently. If Strawberry and Cinnamon got them wild in their pants, I could only imagine their reaction to seeing the exotic forms of Aeren and Mixi. Not that they were more beautiful than my human friends. But the combination of their physical qualities with their alien appearance could start a riot.

  Everyone but the dragons got some time to hang around on the launchpad and dock area, shielded from view of onlookers by the creative stacking method Cinnamon used for our outgoing cargo. There was a nice, enclosed space that everyone was able to enjoy despite the need to wear the breathers.

  When the incoming cargo started arriving the next morning, I had to put an end to anyone not human leaving the confines of the ship. Inside our vessel became a constant arena of activity as everyone wanted to move about. With Gako and Dawynda getting to use the toilets now they took the opportunity to roam through our narrow hallways more often than they should. I saw several crew members adopting my habit of peeking around corners before entering passageways, even though we could normally hear the giant lizards coming as their talons scratched against the resilient floor tiles.

  I spent the night with Honeysuckle and Cinnamon. The safety of the spaceport meant that we didn't need to leave anyone posted as security. The computer would quickly alert us to any dangers that popped up, just like at a space station under normal circumstances.

  "I found a landing site outside of town," Strawberry told me as Cinnamon performed the final count on the incoming cargo. She expected to have everything inside and secured in two hours.

  "Remote enough to let the dragons out?" I asked.

  "I think so," she replied. "The city is planning to build a park and recreational facility out there, but construction hasn't begun yet. All they've done so far is lay down a flat surface for flying in supplies."

  "Can we use it without being noticed?"

  "Probably not. Cinnamon should contact the local administration offices to obtain permission. We wouldn’t want to draw the attention of the government."

  Three hours later we were ready for lift off. We had approval to use the remote site for the rest of the day, but we had to be gone by nightfall. The government office didn't ask for a reason, so I didn't give one. Maybe they heard that our women weren't comfortable roaming through town.

  It meant that we had to deal with flight control twice, which wasn't much of an inconvenience. I had Cinnamon ask them about deliveries to the construction site and they said to their knowledge that nothing was scheduled for the rest of the day.

  Within minutes of touching down again I released the dragons and watched as they flew away. They didn't get far before turning around and coming back to tell me that this place smells even worse than inside the ship. After stressing with them one last time the importance of not wandering far, I let them be. I wasn't going to spend the rest of the day watching them. I had other people to care for and things to do.

  "The computer is tracking them," Strawberry assured me, showing her tablet display with two red dots in motion. "I set an alarm for half a kilometer radius."

  "Do they have shock collars if they go past the limit?" I asked, knowing full well that they didn't.

  "Shock collars?" Strawberry asked in confusion. "They are only used on criminals, I think. Anyway, we don't have any. Honeysuckle might be able to make something like it, though. Should I ask her?"

  "Maybe for next time. It's too late for this go around," I said though I wasn’t serious. The shock collar idea was just a thinking outside the box moment.

  "Do you normally like to give your friends electric shocks?" Strawberry asked. I couldn't tell from her expression if she was joking or legitimately concerned. Perhaps she was even sexually aroused.

  "Usually just on the nipples," I answered with the freakiest smile I could manage. "If you don't personally already have clamps for that kind of thing, add it to Honeysuckle's list."

  "Fuck, no," my first officer said. "I might be experimental in bed by some standards but there is no way you are going to electrocute my perfect titties. Clamps on my nipples? This nasty air must be affecting your brain."

  I laughed as she walked away. The view of her tight bubbled ass brought back memories of our recent episode. The anal sex might be rare, but I certainly got the impression that she enjoyed being dominated in the bedroom. In fact, her attitude toward me seemed to change significantly since I forced my cock into her asshole. I never had a girl like that before, but I was sure that I could figure out how to keep her happy.

  Then I turned my attention to the surrounding area. It was mostly dry dirt and dense sand near the landing pad. Looking back toward the city and to the right I saw rows upon rows of unknown crops. To the left was a large section with just tiny growths lined up. That field must have been recently harvested and replanted. Beyond it I could see some small structures and some slow-moving creatures that were too far away to recognize. Probably livestock of some sort.

  The breathers didn't clamp on to the faces Aeren or Mixi perfectly, so the doctor had to make some adjustments. I watched them both approach my position from where they exited the ship. They had that happy shuffle going on like Geishas in wooden shoes. Though slightly masked I was fairly sure that they were smiling.

  Mixi must have made some adjustments to her uniform because it fit more snugly than before. Unfortunately, that only served to show how tiny she was, which could draw unwanted attention. Both girls opted to continue to wear their ship's crew garb instead of anything new that was purchased. Maybe they just hadn't had time to do the alterations yet. Howeve
r, I believed that it could mostly be due to their desire to try to fit in among us.

  "Will you help me?" Mixi asked as she turned around in front of me to give me access to her back. "There is a flap over the bulk of my wings that can be lifted. It is buttoned down, and I can't reach it. Please release the material and let it hang loosely."

  I was happy to do so. Due to her small stature I chose to get down on one knee to perform the function. That placed me low enough that I couldn't help but appreciate the lovely slight curves of her ultra-petite buttocks and legs. The white skin on her limbs looked like smooth porcelain. I could probably touch my finger to my thumb if I grabbed her by the ankle. Her boots were still a bit oversized and made her appear more as a child.

  "I'm surprised that you didn't have Aeren or one of the others do it."