by Josie Walker
In other spots there are colorful rows of crops terraced on the sides of the gently swelling hills at the top of the summit. The area at the top is flatter, which makes for great farming. I know intuitively the castle was built here for its defensive position.
But who would these metal men fear? Do they wage war with each other? Or is it possible that there are even more alien races roaming the galaxies? I’m definitely getting the vibes of a feudal system in the works here. I’m trying to remember what I learned in elementary school, but it’s been a while.
I think that castles would have overlords of some type. Do these aliens also have something like kings or an equivalent? I continue with my medieval comparison, cringing when I remember how everyone was always at war with each other in the middle ages. Of course. That’s why they need the giant walls and fortresses. What have I gotten myself into?
Getting to the top of the mountain on foot would be no easy feat. Fortunately, we are not on foot. Our dragons float to a large clearing and land with rather ungraceful thumps, one at a time.
Bocc-d’ar stands, then helps me out of the saddle. I’m stiff from the hours of inactivity, so I accept the help. I watch with interest as the leather saddles are removed from the beasts. Bocc-d’ar goes to the head of the crimson dragon we were riding and places his hands on the massive head, looking into its eyes.
The fantasy creature is beautiful, albeit in a “don’t cross me or I might just gobble you up in one bite kind of way.” The sun reflects off if its red scaled armor and makes it look like it’s covered with rubies. Its eyes are black onyx rimmed in shimmering gold which makes them look like elaborate jewelry.
Bocc-d’ar continues to lock eyes with the beast then says something in his strange tongue. He is in his metal form with the trident on his back. He and the beast seem to be communicating in some way. Fascinated, I watch as the dragon snorts then lumbers off with the others into a cavernous opening at the side of the mountain. Are the dragons free to come and go as they please?
A wave of hopelessness threatens to consume me. How am I ever going to escape this world with its barbaric aliens and fantastical beasts? As quickly as the negativity rushes in, I push it back. I will find a way to get back to Eclipsa and the others.
I see men on the top of the wall. I don’t know if they’re on patrol or if they’re there to greet us. I hear that strange chattering sound that I’ve concluded is how they communicate. A drawbridge lowers and we walk across the moat.
Aliens swarm in from all sides. Most are in their metal armor, but I spy a few showing their flesh and blood selves. The flesh and blood ones do have on clothing, thankfully, although just their bottom halves are covered with either leather pants or loin cloths.
Bare chests must be the norm in this society. And why not, given the fact that every one of them is built like a bodybuilder? Personally I’ve never been to a male strip club, but I’m starting to understand the appeal. It’s too bad I didn’t have any cash to stuff in exciting places.
Of course, none of them are as handsome as my Bocc-d’ar. I flinch when I realize what I just thought. No, he’s not mine. What is wrong with me? This is ridiculous. One thing’s for sure—I will not be staying here any longer than it takes to plan my escape.
Where are the women? All I see is one bare chested hunk after another. It’s creeping me out, in a “Paint Your Wagons” kind of way. Did something happen to the lady aliens, or were there never any of them to begin with?
The males are all chattering up a storm. Something has them all excited. I really hope it’s not me. I have a flash back to what happened when we first got off of the spaceship. All the aliens had been making that exact same sound. That time it ended with a gladiator battle for my hand . . . or rather my body.
But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here though because Bocc-d’ar doesn’t seem tense. If anything he seems happy. The chattering in his chest blends with theirs as he leads me through the village.
It looks like we’re heading for the castle itself. Maybe the women are inside? The thought comforts me a little. We walk through the giant door at the front of the castle.
“GAHM HABE,” he says again.
Okay, so it definitely doesn’t’ mean mountain. Maybe it’s alien for “home” or the name of the castle itself? It soon becomes obvious that Mr. Trident is giving me a tour. Sadly, given our language barrier, his words are nothing but a bunch of strange guttural words and clicking sounds.
But the tour is still useful. I keep my eyes open, memorizing the hallways and every turn we take. I’m having a hard time finding memorable landmarks because everything is comprised of metal, metal, and more metal. Upon closer inspection, I realize a variety of materials has been used. The floors are a dark charcoal gray, the walls a lighter silver.
There are some wooden pieces of furniture, although most of the furnishings seem to be made of gold, silver, and brass. That seems like it would be cold and uncomfortable, but there are cushions and furs on the chairs and benches which makes it look way more inviting. Some of the rooms have woven mats on the floors. It looks like they’re made of something similar to bamboo.
I’m sure we’ve barely scratched the surface of what there is to explore when he leads me into a massive bedchamber. It’s obviously his. I’m beginning to realize that my trident man is the Lord of the Keep.
“Game hen hobbies?” I ask, trying my best to repeat his phrase from earlier.
He nods his head excitedly. That definitely means “home”. Well, this place is certainly nicer than the room we shared after the gladiator battle. The room is dominated by a massive bed covered with wooly furs. It’s so tall that I’d have to take a running leap to climb up on it.
That’s assuming I actually wanted to put myself in his bed of course. And I definitely don’t want to repeat my insanity from the previous evening. Having sex again with him would be beyond stupid. He hadn’t used a condom. I wonder if they have anything like those on this planet?
I don’t want to get pregnant. I refuse to consider the fact that I might already be so. Who’s to say our species are even compatible? Either way, I’m not risking fate a second time.
While I stand there warring with myself, all of his metal armor melts away. There he is again . . . my gloriously naked barbarian. His body is bronzed to perfection, and there isn’t an ounce of fat to be had on him.
Every one of his muscles is bulging and beautiful. And they’re wreaking havoc on my hormones. With the force of a magnet, my eyes are drawn down to where his erection stands proudly. It’s exactly as I remember it from earlier. If I wasn’t such a slut I’m sure I’d be blushing. Apparently, I’m beyond shame.
He is so hot it is just not fair. I try to remember all of my reasons for not having sex with him. I know I had some very valid points, I just can’t seem to recall what they were right this moment. Maybe I don’t want to remember them.
He gives me a scorching look, and reaches his arms wide. I don’t even hesitate. I hurry to undo the makeshift ties on my top, and slip out of my jeans. I take a running start and leap into his arms. He catches me by my ass and I scream with pleasure. I’m more than ready.
As if I weigh nothing, he lifts me high, then impales me on his rigid shaft. I’ve been in a state of semi-arousal all day, so I’m ready for him. I moan, wondering if I’ll ever get used to the sheer size of him. I wrap my legs around his waist, which drives his cock in even deeper. I can feel that metal tip touching my cervix.
It feels so good I’m at risk of passing out. And that’s when it starts vibrating. No wonder I can’t think straight. He’s addictive. I place my hands loosely on his shoulders, then lean my chest away from him so I can see his expression. He’s beaming at me like he just won the lottery.
“DAS GAHMEN,” he says throatily.
“You know, I never said I’m yours. I just conceded because I can’
t resist your delicious body. And I think I’d like a kiss.”
I thread my fingers through the long hair at the base of his skull and angle his mouth toward mine.
“Kiss,” I tell him.
He has the funniest confused look on his face, but he complies, allowing me to bring his mouth to mine. He smiles, but his mouth remains closed. So, I glide my tongue over his lips, coaxing them to do my bidding.
“Kiss,” I repeat huskily.
He grunts, obviously enjoying the sensation of being licked. But it’s clear he’s never done this before. He doesn’t understand the need to open his mouth for the fun to start. I take one of my hands from behind his head, and touch his lips with my finger. Light as a feather I drag it over those perfectly shaped lips. His breath catches and his mouth falls open.
Seizing the opportunity, I slip my finger inside, and slide it across his tongue. Before he can close it again I bring my mouth to his and slide my tongue across his just like I did with my finger. He’s a fast learner. I’ll give him that. Instantly his tongue thrusts out to meet mine.
“KSSS, TSSS,” he murmurs.
Then he begins to thrust his tongue with the same rhythm he’s using with his pelvis. He moves his tongue and at the same time grinds his hips against me. He teases and taunts, pulling his hardness in and out of me. That little metal tip is vibrating up a storm and it feels so good, but I wonder if it would be even better on the bed.
I jerk my mouth back. “Bed,” I say, pointing toward it.
He grunts something indiscernible, and begins walking toward it without slowing the pace of his pelvic thrusting. There’s definitely something to be said for all of those muscles. He reaches the bed but instead of getting in it, he sets my ass on it and pushes my inner thighs open as he continues to drive deep inside of me. I’m a little bit higher than him now, and I open my legs willingly since I don’t have to flex my muscles so tightly to keep from falling.
“That feels so good!” I tell him.
“GOOHT,” he agrees.
“Goooooood,” I scream as my orgasm rips through me.
I feel him erupt inside me like hot lava as he screams his new word, “GOOHT!”
My shoulders slump to the bed as I melt like a noodle onto the furs. But not all of me falls back. My crotch is still suspended in midair, because his strong hands are holding me firmly to him.
His expression seems so purposeful as he holds me in place. I can literally feel his hot semen pouring inside me. Something brushes the edges of my brain, some semblance of sanity returning.
He’s holding me like I’m a receptacle . . . for his . . . . seed? What? Is he’s trying to get me pregnant? Then it hits me. That’s what I was trying to remember. I can’t have sex with him again because I could get pregnant!
Damn it! How could I have forgotten something so very, very important? I feel stupid. I just had unprotected sex with an alien twice in less than a 24 hour span! What the hell was I thinking?
Obviously I wasn’t thinking. Instead of panicking I decide to focus on the fact that I’ll be gone soon. I’m going to escape and find my way back to the captive Krinar females.
What are the odds that our species are even compatible? I’d say it’s pretty unlikely that he could even get me pregnant. So I guess there was no harm in one more time for the road. After all, don’t I deserve to have a little fun on my adventure?
***
I must have dozed off. I wake up tucked under the furs with my big alien beside me . . . the hot body builder version of him, not the tin can one. He opens his eyes when I move to get up. I need to put on my clothes before I repeat my insanity for a third time.
Clutching the furs against my breasts, I slide over to the side of the bed. But my feet are dangling about a foot off the floor. I’m getting ready to drop when he grabs both of my hands and lowers me down. This furniture was obviously not made for puny humans like me.
“Thanks,” I murmur gratefully when my feet touch the ground.
He watches intently as I walk over and pick up my clothing which was tossed to the floor in the heat of the moment. The ripped jeans are in pretty sad shape, and retying my makeshift knots to keep the shirt up is starting to get tedious. It was a lot easier before he destroyed all the buttons.
He grabs my hand and pulls me toward another door. I step through it with him. A bathroom? This place has a bathroom? Things look different than on Earth, but not so different I can’t figure them out. I see what must be a toilet, and I can’t explain how relieved I am. But he’s ruining the moment by standing there and looking at me.
“No way am I peeing while you watch!”
I make shooing motions for him to leave. Thankfully he does. I catch my reflection in a huge mirror. Actually I think it’s polished silver, but regardless the reflection is quite clear.
To say I look like a wild woman is putting it mildly. I’ve lost weight since our capture. My waist dips in sharply and my stomach is totally flat. My hair is naturally a bit wavy but now the wild tawny streaks looks like a golden lion’s mane. It hasn’t been brushed in so long I can’t even fathom how I’m going to get all of those tangles out. Maybe I won’t bother.
I’d kill for a bath, but I don’t know how to operate it. I explore it eagerly. There don’t seem to be any handles. I’m still pondering the situation when he returns, barely having given me time to finish peeing.
“Okay, trident man. We need to set some boundaries,” I complain.
I hurry to step into the jeans. Too bad I didn’t see a sink, or I would have washed my hands first. I’m not exactly impressed by my reflection in the mirror, and apparently neither is he.
“NIK,” he barks out, shaking his head.
I’m thinking “nickel” means no.
He walks over to a table and points at the things that are laying on it. It’s clothing, and jewelry, I think. He slips into the gold, leather pants. They have royal blue strips sewn in at various spots which highlight his physique. Apparently, like the rest of his people, he’s not big on shirts. Fine by me. What a view.
Then he hands me a . . . I guess a large piece of silvery white fabric. I can’t decide on a color, because it keeps changing in the light as I move it across my hands. It’s soft, like silk. Is he expecting me to sew this into a dress or something.
I inwardly debate over whether or not I should try to wear this. I don’t want to lose my own clothing, but this fabric is clean and my shirt and pants are seriously disgusting. My desire to feel clean wins out in the end and I strip off my clothes. I know nothing about sewing, but I manage to wrap, tuck and tie my way into a halfway presentable dress. It’s sleeveless because the thought of trying to make sleeves thoroughly intimidates me.
I wrap it tightly around my chest, and tie it off around my waist. There’s so much fabric that it flares out around me like I’m getting ready to walk the red carpet or something. When I glance back up at the mirror I’m surprised to see that I actually look somewhat fashionable.
“You’re right. This is much better,” I say aloud. I neatly fold up my clothing and set it on the corner of the table, because I don’t want anyone messing with my stuff.
He smiles in appreciation, and I’m glad I decided to try it on.
He picks up a heavy piece of jewelry from the table and looks in the mirror as he places it around his neck. It’s intricately formed of tiny beads of bronze, teal and blue that have been fashioned into a circle. It’s almost like a massive collar that spans from the sides of his neck down to his bare shoulders. He fastens a royal blue piece of material onto decorative hooks just above each shoulder, and it falls across his back like a cape.
Oh my. He looks like an Egyptian pharaoh. His blond hair is shaved on the bottom, but the rest of it falls gently around his face. All he needs is a pyramid and then he could sell tickets back on earth. I know I’d buy one.
> He reaches over to the table and picks up a smaller version of the neck circlet thing and fastens it at the back of my neck. It’s quite beautiful, like a decorative collar for the simple white dress. Then he hooks a length of the silvery white material at each of my shoulders.
“I get a cape too? Oh goody,” I say.
He nods his approval at me.
I look at both of us together in the mirror. I guess my wild hair isn’t so bad. Actually we look pretty hot together, like an Egyptian King and Queen.
“VASTU,” he says as he opens the massive door and holds out his hand toward me.
I feel a little self-conscious, with the no underwear and all. What if he’s taking me to something degrading like a wet t-shirt contest? I don’t like that I have no idea where he wants me to go.
“Maybe I don’t want to come. Did you ever think of that?” I mutter, defensively.
He looks at me curiously and says, “VASTU,” again, but it’s softer this time. It sounds more like a question than a command now.
There’s no point arguing, because our shared language is too limited to reason with him. I take his hand, following him from the room. Once again I pay attention to the various hallways and stairs, doing my best to memorize every turn we take. I’m making a map in my head for when I escape.
I’m seeing different areas than I did when we came in. This place is so huge that I’m sure we haven’t even scratched the surface yet. I haven’t seen another exit, but I’ve got my eyes open for an escape route, just in case. I’m hoping to find an animal that’s more like a horse and less like a dragon before I leave. Then again, maybe a goat would be better because going down the mountain is going to be hell.
We traverse yet another hallway and suddenly I’m glad I followed him out of the room. I smell the food before we reach our destination, and my mouth starts watering. Something smells like ribs, but I don’t want to get my hopes up in case I’m wrong. The hallway opens into a circular balcony with a huge open room below.
