by Aubrey Cara
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
TAKING THEIR HUMAN
BAMBI’S ALIEN ABDUCTION
Earth Girl’s Guide to Surviving an Alien Abduction
Blurb
I’ve been abducted by Amish aliens, and hand to God, I’m so over it.
Don’t get me wrong. Their leader is super hot despite his likely shared ancestry with Godzilla. But he’s all about sexing me up and implanting his eggs in my you know where. And yes, I said eggs.
If that’s not bad enough, my besties have been abducted, too, but by entirely different aliens and are on an entirely different planet. I’ve got to get out of here and pull off some heroic sh*t ASAP.
Only problem, outside of the whole “I don’t know how to fly a spaceship” thing?
I may have gotten a little carried away while playing “just the tip” with my hot alien abductor. And now…well…if I could update my social media status I’d be going from single & ready to mingle, to it’s WAY complicated.
Copyright © 2017 Bambi’s Alien Abduction by Aubrey Cara
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Published in the United States of America
Aubrey Cara
Editor:
Kate Richards, Wizards in Publishing
Cover art:
Kasmit Covers
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
NOTE OF GRATITUDE
A big thank you to Renee and Tamara who are the best beta readers a girl could ask for. Tamara, I know first person present tense hurts your soul. It makes it even more amazing that you read everything I write. You go above and beyond best friend duties.
Thank you, Kate, for all that you do. You make everything better.
Last, but not least, thank you Mom for not blocking me when I sent you pop culture references and slang terms at all hours of the day and night to see if you “got” them. You never once ask me why I wanted to know, which makes me wonder how often people text you random, weird questions. Also, I don’t want to know how you knew what DTF stands for.
I appreciate you all more than you’ll ever know.
PROLOGUE
OATHAR
“Yon Tor,” the Zapex greets me, his blue head bowed deeply in respect. His robes billow out and flutter in the breeze. The trading moon planet of Neo’s two suns are warm on my shoulders. I sigh in relief to be off our ship. Neo’s trading colony’s desert climate reminds me of Alogoria. Thinking of home makes me eager to return.
“Is the shipment ready to be transferred?”
“There is a slight issue with the shipment. Not all the humans made it.”
Doing business with the Zapex has my guard up, and I bristle at this news. “Do you have my order or not?”
“I regret to inform you, Yon Tor, we will only be able to supply you one female at this time. But I have them set up so you may choose one to your liking.”
Three human females, all of different sizes and colors, their slumped bodies still cloaked in Earth garments, line the slavers platform in front of us. “I do not see the issue. I requested three. There are three here.”
The courier shifts under my regard. “The other two are spoken for. Prince Kaihan is eager to begin the breeding trials with the humans,” he tells me conspiratorially, but I already know this.
Prince Kaihan is a power hungry sihruka whom I’ve had an eye on. I do not trust him. “I’ve paid for three humans.” I would like to point out the prince’s lack of honor in taking the other females for his own instead of honoring our agreement, but I hold my tongue.
“You will be recompensed, unless you are willing to wait for another shipment.”
“I will accept a reimbursement.” The next time I am offered humans to breed, I will not be paying for them until delivery.
The Zapex bows, no doubt pleased at my acquiescence and the fact I let him keep his head. I am Yon Tor, ruler of Alogoria, leader of the Planet Lehor. Giving in to my natural urges is not a luxury I possess. We both know I am not so foolish as to start a war over some human flesh.
He waves a hand at the platform. “Which one do you desire, Yon Tor?”
Two of the females are slowly waking. I assume they have been in stasis for travel. One is thin and long, with straight fur on her head. The other, farthest from me. has loops of brightly golden colored fur and a body made of plump curves. She blinks in my direction, squinting in confusion, but it is enough to see her dark eyes. I’ve seen vids and stills of humans, and this female would be considered exotic even on Earth.
I nod in her direction. “Her.”
At the Zapex’s behest, a four-armed Ikbar approaches the female and injects her with something that causes her to slump over. The Zapex explains they have fitted her with a translator and tracking chip, and hands my second in command, Jhyr, extra sedatives with directions.
I listen but do not take my eyes off my new acquisition. Not even when the Ikbar sets her warm form in my arms.
I am captivated.
CHAPTER ONE
Earth Girl Guide to Surviving an Alien Abduction
Tip #24
Whatever you do, stay calm
BAMBI
There’s a smoothly finished metal ceiling over my head. It’s slightly domed and black. I’d like to say I recognize exactly where I am, but I don’t. Not in the least.
What’s worse? I have no idea how I got here.
I set out on a tour of Europe with my best friends, Brooklyn and Brianna, only two weeks ago. Our last hurrah before we embarked on our lives after college. This is not the kind of hurrah we’d been thinking of.
Brook, Bri, and I are all daughters of race car drivers, and we’ve been summering together since forever. I’m Bambi Rodriquez, daughter of a Vegas showgirl and an internationally renowned Formula One race car driver, Jose Pastor Rodriquez. To say my upbringing was unorthodox would be an understatement, but this goes far beyond drag queen nannies and rhinestone-bedazzled lunchboxes.
This? Where I am right now? This has to be a dream. The repercussions of this being real are unacceptable.
Im-freaking-possible.
I’m lying on a mat in what appears to be a control room. Strange enough on its own, I know, but the kicker? The detail that throws this whole scenario into the territory of hyperventilating insanity?
Outside the window is space.
Which would lead me to believe I’m on a spaceship.
So, yeah, I think I might throw up now. I’m in a tin box of doom. I don’t even like flying thirty thousand feet in the air. This is…I gulp down the rising panic.
I’ve never actually been in outer space before, but there are some telltale signs. Say, for instance, the three huge alien creatures staring at me. That’s a dead giveaway.
At least they have clothes on.
Their pants look to be made out of some kind of brown suede that blends with their skin. Their knee boots are the same, and they’re wearing fur vests. Open fur vests, with nothing but sculpted bronze chests underneath. One, maybe the leader, has an X-style harness on. I’d wonder if it was for decoration or kinky shit if it didn’t have knives strapped to it.
The beast men have honey-brown colored skin, and thickly muscled bodies. They kinda remind me of Klingons, from Star Trek, but without the hair. And instead of having one ridge on their foreheads, they have three over their big skulls, along with imposing scowls. Their fingers are really long with short, hooked honey-brown claws at the end of each.
Claws.
And they’ve got some weird texture to their skin, like scales, but I’m not about to go touch one to find out for sure. I almost want to crane my head around and see if they have tails, but, for now, I’m sticking with my statue-still status.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask tall, dark, and scaly one, two, or three what the hell is going on, but I don’t know if they’ll understand me. They don’t look civilized in any way, except for the fact that they’ve achieved a level of space travel brilliant scientists on Earth have only dreamt of achieving.
So, yeah, there’s that.
I’ve been abducted by a race of primitive geniuses.
A giggle I can’t control bubbles out of me, and I cover my mouth to stifle it. Have I mentioned I’m a nervous giggler? Not my favorite thing about myself. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously when you’re blonde, big boobed, and your name is Bambi. Add “prone to giggling” into the mix, and all you’re seen as a stereotypical bimbo from the eighties. Thanks, Mom.
Three pairs of eyes show surprise and, from the looks of the inflating billy clubs pressing up against their trousers, my giggle’s some weird alien mating call.
Shit. I’ve read about this sort of thing in trashy sci-fi novels. From the sheer size of these creatures, this entire scenario doesn’t bode well for any of my orifices.
I don’t want to go where no Earth girl has gone before.
My rising hysteria is not at all eased when X-harness guy reaches down, grabs my ankle, and starts sniffing me.
What the ever lovin’ hell?
He gets to my ladytown junction and sniffs real deep.
“Oh, hell, no.” Scrambling back, I plant a foot on his shoulder, shoving him away from me. I’ve had about as much of this meet and greet as I can handle. “I don’t know what kind of culture spawned you, but where I’m from we don’t say hello by crotch sniffing.”
Scowling at me, the beast man says, “I am checking your fertility, female. Be still.”
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. One, he wasn’t speaking English when he spoke, but I understood him. And two; did he just say fertility?
“Why on earth would you…” My mind stutters over the common saying, and I realize how irrelevant it is. I’m not going to hyperventilate. Deep breaths. In…and out…in…and out…
While I’m doing my deep breathing, Mr. Beastly takes it as the go ahead to recommence his sniff-a-thon. This time when I kick him, he snatches me off the floor as if I weigh nothing, throws me over his lap, and gives my bottom three swift, stinging smacks.
“Hey!” My face flushes as much from being beast-handled as from my bottom warming up.
“Behave. I am not through,” he says in a deep rumble.
Again, hearing him speak in his language and being able to understand him throws me for a loop. I fight all my instincts to scream and thrash, forcing myself to still as he lifts me by the hips and sniffs me. This is so not cool.
While I’m glad that whichever aliens initially abducted me hadn’t removed my clothes, I’m wishing I’d worn something more protective than my favorite little flirty pink skirt and flimsy cotton and lace panties. It seemed like a great idea when ’I woke up in France, planning to sightsee. I wonder how long ago that was. The last thing I remember was sipping wine at a bistro, outside in the warm sun.
As alien man is nose deep in my cha cha, I can’t help but notice his hands span the width of my thighs.
I don’t have little thighs.
Not only that, but this guy is holding me up in the air like my weight is insignificant. And his thighs—the manly ones the upper half of my body are pressing up against—are basically oak trees.
Oh, no, no, Bambi girl, do not notice how powerful his thighs are. I try to snap my knees together, but it’s of no use. Between the avaricious attention my ladytown junction is getting and the stimulation of being manhandled, my cha cha is not discriminating against the man beast.
Every muscle in my body locks up as my arousal climbs. Before I know what’s happening, the crotch of my panties is swept aside, and his mouth is on me. Dry, soft lips and wet, rough tongue—eek, Mother Mary, a long tongue—waste no time, as he delves right in.
Shock holds me immobile for a second. The other sixteen seconds I allow his tongue inspection I have no excuse for, only shame.
“Hell no, beast man.” Kicking and squirming, I hit the big oaf, but he doesn’t even flinch. Just continues his invasive tongue exploration of my wonderland until he releases me.
“She’s ready for mating soon,” he says to the other two dudes I’d forgotten were standing there. He sounds pleased. They all smile at this news, and I want to throw something sharp and pointy at them.
“Nooo,” I say, shaking my head, even though my ladytown is now very much awake and ready to go. “She will not be ready for ‘mating’”—I put mating in air quotes—“anytime soon.”
“But I can smell your ripeness.”
Horror sweeps through me, as heat rushes to my face. Being abducted by aliens leaves little time for general hygiene. “It’s not like I asked you to stick your nose and tongue all up in me. This is not my average day. Frankly, I don’t know how long I’ve been in outer-freaking-space. I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know what time it is. And I sure as hell don’t know who you are, or why you think it’s all right to be getting up close and personal with my cha cha!”
“Cha cha?” The big oaf’s face scrunches as if confused. “I do not understand this term.”
“Really? Out of everything in this situation, that’s what you wonder? Va-gi-na. That clear enough for you, Mr. I can smell your ripeness?”
“Your agitation is understandable, so I will not punish you.”
“How magnanimous of you.” My voice drips sarcasm, but he just nods, taking my words at face value. That’s probably for the best. I think I know what punishment entails, if the warm glow of my hiney is any indication.
“The human female is known to get illogically emotional. And your egg is almost at peak readiness, so you must be experiencing great need. As soon as we land, I will take you to mate.”
My mind stutters at his arrogant boast. “The only place you’ll be taking me is back to Earth, you chest-beating, cave-dwelling, lizard-breath Klingon wannabe.”
The aforementioned cave dweller draws himself up to his full intimating height. “I am none of those things, insolent Earther. I am Oathar, Yon Tor of Alogoria.” His deep voice fills the space, and I fight the urge to shrink under his authority. “And you should be honored and grateful I bought you from the Zapex for myself. They were going to breed you with their Monrok.”
The I should be grateful part makes me bristle. If possible, he looks even more arrogant than he sounds. I should be scared. I should be trembling, not
running my mouth, but one thing he said reminds me I’m not the only one up crapper creek.
Do these Zeepacks still have Brooklyn and Brianna? They’re really the only good things in my life. They’re my best friends, and I need them here, now. Isn’t there safety in numbers? And did he say they were going to be used for breeding their Mudrocks? “What the hell are Mudrocks?”
This Oarthar guy shares a look with his two men, before his gaze slides back to mine. “Mon-rok are hideously disfigured mutant creatures. The Zapex have an army of them they use to guard their planet.”
The whole “mutant creature” remark is pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a sexy lizard king, but I’ll keep that to myself. My mind is too busy filling with images of what kind of creatures could possibly be raping and torturing Brook and Bri, right as I stand here with male creatures who are planning…what?
“Why am I here?” I start to tremble. I fist my hands, willing myself to stop shaking as I dully wonder if I’m going into shock.
“You are going to host my young.” He says it as if bestowing me with a prodigious gift. Somehow, I don’t think he means I’ll be throwing them a party.
“There were two other women with me at the marketplace. Where are they now?”
His jaw clenches in agitation. “The Zapex kept them for themselves.”
I glance over at the other two and realize they had been expecting to buy all three of us. “For the Monrok?”
“Yes. To breed more Monrok,” he says crisply, and my stomach rolls.
“You wanted them?”
He nods his head once. “They were promised to me. Not all the Earth females survived the voyage to fulfill the supplier’s orders.” His words make me sick with horror. There were more of us.
“My friends, they survived. They were with me—”
