Caveman Alien's Trap

by Calista Skye

  We put our clothes on again, Xark’on chases away a young dinosaur that must have been attracted by our noises, and then we’re back in the treehouse, me standing by the railing and astounded at the view once more. I look in the direction where the cave and the girls must be. The low-level worry I feel about them is stronger now after the discovery this morning.

  “Do you think Troga’s trench is so long now that we’re surrounded by it?”

  Xark’on lights the fire to cook the not-sheep meat I got us. “I don’t. But if it were to happen, it would be extremely bad. We would not be able to get out. The only thing we can do is to prevent any such thing happening.”

  Yes, killing the dragon is probably the only way. From the short glimpse I got of her trench system from up here the other day, it did look like she came from Bune. And Bune has proven to be a source of many things, not all of them good. When she falls into the trap, it will be good for the whole planet. If I can kill an innocent not-sheep for the meat and the fur, then I can help kill a genuinely bad presence like that dragon.

  We cook the meat and the veggies, and I use some herbs to flavor the meat. Back at the cave, I experimented with marinating the meat, but I could never get it to taste the way I wanted it. I’ll start trying again. Somehow, making something delicious for Xark’on inspires me more than just cooking for the girls.

  “You like how I cut it?” I ask.

  24

  - Xark’on -

  “These are good pieces. No bone, and you’ve separated the best cuts. Yes, I like it.” And I do. I had no idea she was this good at hunting.

  She gives me a shy little smile, and I can’t help leaning over and nuzzling her hair. It has the most wonderful scent, so clean and still natural. It’s her scent, and it makes me dizzy.

  We chat about nothing special. I get her to tell me about her home planet, and I learn a lot about it. It doesn’t seem too appealing, but if it produced Caroline, it can’t be that bad.

  Her claim that there are thousands of women is hard to believe, though. Or thousands of thousands of thousands, as she puts it. My warrior brain can’t process those numbers, so I don’t even try. But I gather that there are many, maybe enough for more than one tribe.

  She appears to have a lot to say about her planet, so I let her talk. I think she misses it. I suppose I would miss Xren, too, if I were somehow taken by the Plood and placed somewhere else. But it probably depends on where I was put.

  “And there’s something called ‘television’,” Caroline chirps. “Imagine if you can see moving images on a screen. Say, if your painting of Bune came to life, and you could see the clouds change and the trees being blown by the wind. Or that picture of your tribesmen. Imagine if they were moving. In the picture. And you could hear their voices and their footsteps…”

  The meat sizzles on the slate. The sun has long since set, and the jungle sounds of night. A screech from an irox makes Caroline jump, and she scoots closer to me in a gesture that melts my heart. That irox was far away, but she’s coming to me for safety.

  Can I provide that? No, of course nobody is ever completely safe in the jungle. Not even here. But I will do what I can. Until …

  I feel my jaw clench hard.

  Until the trap is finished. Then it’s over, one way or the other. Then, the reward the Ancestors gave me has been used up, and I must do what has to be done.

  Why did the Ancestors make Troga extend her trench so Caroline can’t get back to her cave? They must really want her to stay here. Either because they want me to enjoy her company until the time has come, or because they want her to be the bait, after all.

  They have a point. She’s the perfect bait. Troga will come out of her trench to get Caroline. That much is certain.

  Will she do the same if I’m the helpless being hanging over the carefully disguised hole? I don’t know. She might. She certainly didn’t mind making a long and terrible meal of the tribesmen who fell into her trench these past seasons. Holy Ancestors, those screams in the night…

  What if I only use Caroline to lure Troga out of the trench then offer myself somehow? No, that’s too complicated. It will end in death of both of us. It has to be genuine, living bait. The trap, itself, can be the only deception. More than that, and it gets too difficult and it won’t work. I feel that deep down.

  It has to be one of us. And since I can’t bear the thought of anything at all happening to Caroline, it has to be me.

  Under any other circumstance, I’d assume quite naturally that she was the bait that the Ancestors intended. She came here at the right time, she’s helped build the trap, she’s the kind of prey that Troga will undoubtedly want, and now she can’t leave. Everything fits. The signs all point to the same conclusion.

  Except that doing anything that has the tiniest chance of harming her sends ice cold arrows to my stomach and makes me want to throw up.

  If I use myself as bait and the trap works, I think I’ll still be allowed to join the Ancestors after death. If I use Caroline and it works, which I’m convinced it will, then I will be an honored and revered Ancestor for all eternity. And that’s after I enjoy a full life in the village, revered for as long as I live as the man who rid us of Troga, enjoying my share of the Treasure.

  But if I use myself as bait and the trap fails, the only chance of ending the monster’s reign of terror was a failure, and I will never be an Ancestor. There will be no eternity for me. Just torment and dishonor. And the end of the tribe, not the glorious future that will result with the trap working.

  I snap my head up. “What was that?”

  Caroline is looking at me with her fine eyebrows adorably arched. “I said, ‘how much are you going to fry these things?’”

  The meat on the slate is burned a deep brown.

  “Ah.” I hurry to take them off the stone.

  Caroline has a little smile on her lips. “A little distracted there, warrior? Aren’t my tales of the parliamentary system on Earth interesting enough for you? I did mention the British royal family, so it can’t have been that bad. Kate Middleton and the princes and the princess and everything.”

  “It’s fascinating lore,” I lie. “And still confusing.” I’m on safe ground there. Everything she tells me about her planet confuses me to the point where I can’t follow any of it, and I turn to dark thoughts.

  “Uh-huh. Okay, I think we’re about ready to eat. Oh, is that meat charred enough for you? I think you can burn it all black if you prefer.”

  “This is fine,” I state and take a bite.

  “I added some herbs while you weren’t looking. It should make your piece of coal a little saltier.”

  “It’s very tasty.” And it is. I didn’t know this could taste so good, even if I fried it a little too hard.

  “Glad you like it. Any chance for a little shot of booze?”

  We drink some of the krunik that feels like fire in the mouth and which makes you feel warm and mellow right after.

  We eat in silence, and I feel guilty about not paying attention to all the things that Caroline wanted to tell me. They clearly mean a lot to her. But my mind is full of so many things. And they’re all about her.

  “How’s your hole, warrior?”

  “It’s fine. I should build a roof over it so it doesn’t fill with water if it rains.”

  “You don’t want to work in a wet hole?” She has the most wonderful glint in her eyes.

  “Some holes are best when they’re wet,” I counter.

  “I think you just like holes,” she giggles.

  It’s true. My life has been full of holes lately. The trap, of course, a relentless toil for the good of the tribe. And, I thought when I began, myself. Caroline’s holes, although I wouldn’t have thought of them in those terms if she hadn’t used that word first. Her sweet, beautiful mouth with the full, expressive lips and the sweet voice. And that most wonderful one, her sex, which does the strangest things to me.

  And the final hole, the one that
I think every man here on Xren feels. That hole deep inside. The absence, the emptiness, the want of something important. Something that we vaguely think has something to do with the Ancestors. But I know now that it is not that. It is the lack of women, the absence of a female in our lives. Caroline has filled that hole for me, and before she did, I had no idea now large it was. Or how dark and empty. I suppose that’s in the nature of holes; they can’t be seen until they’re filled.

  No, that’s nonsense. I can see Caroline’s holes just fine. As I can see all of her. And she lights up my days and my life. Even digging the hole turns to a labor of love because she’s right there. At any time, I can climb out of the hole, go over to her, and smell her hair. Or place my hand on her soft chest with the double protrusions. Or on her behind, so wide and round.

  My life has never been this pleasant. I’ve never felt such joy, even as a child. It scares me, of course. There’s something uncontrollable about it. Something wild. It makes me think of disobeying the Ancestors about something very important.

  No, not just that. It makes me determined to disobey.

  My thoughts go to half-forgotten things that the shaman said about how it was with men and women in the old days. How they would live together. This is it. This life has to be just like that. And it feels so right that it takes my breath away and fills me with a burning need to paint it.

  No, not now. Now, I can just enjoy my reward, enjoy Caroline.

  I douse the fire and clean up the cooking area then unceremoniously lift Caroline up in my arms.

  “Hey! I’m still eating!”

  “You can eat up here.”

  “I guess.” She takes another bite of her meat and chews happily. “It’s actually pretty pleasant. Just straighten me up a little—yes, perfect. Mm. You’re good at lifting me, Xark’on. Are you good at fucking me, too?”

  She has an impish look on her face, and I can’t help kissing her mouth even as she eats. “Some say I am. But I can’t be sure. I don’t have much practice.”

  “Oh, you have to practice. Tell you what. When I’m done eating and I have another little shot of booze, then you can fuck me any way you want. How about that?”

  I didn’t think my manhood could get any harder, but her words make it throb as if ready to burst. “Very well,” I say with a dry mouth.

  She takes her time finishing her meal but finally she kisses my cheek. “Take me, my warrior.”

  I place her on the hanging bed that she calls a hammock, and she takes her garment off in one swift move. I think I’m not the only one who’s excited, here.

  She’s face up, and that’s the way I want her. I lift her to adjust her position a little, and then I kneel in front of the hammock and spread her thighs to open the flower between them.

  The scent of her arousal floats up to me and makes me dizzy, as does the sight of the mysterious slit. I know now which parts are the most sensitive for her and which parts to avoid until later.

  I can’t wait, so I run my tongue up the whole slit from the bottom to the top.

  “Oooooh,” Caroline moans, spreading her legs further. I take it as a good sign, and I continue doing all the things the shaman told us and which seemed to be appreciated by Caroline last time I did this.

  Her flesh is soft and impossibly smooth, and it makes my manhood equally impossibly hard.

  “Fuck me,” Caroline whimpers, but that’s not her decision.

  I will determine that. I keep licking and sucking on her, completely avoiding the hard little nub because I think it might push her over the edge too soon. I want to enjoy this, and I also want her to enjoy it to the fullest.

  But the lure of her slick opening becomes too much for me. I stand up and place my cock at the most important hole in the world right now and then push into her with a liquid sound as the whole woman bucks under me.

  “Oooohh yeh fuk mi,” Caroline moans as I bottom out in her, not too hard.

  The feeling of her tightness around me is almost too much, but I clench my jaw and manage not to spray inside her at the first stroke. Again, I’m struck with a strong, unreal feeling. Surely, something like this can’t really be happening? It seems too good, too wonderful, too strange. Caroline is under me, her body is open to me, and I’m inside it.

  The second cock that only comes into action all by itself is now hardening, and I know that soon Caroline will reach her mysterious climax that appears to go on much longer than mine.

  She looks into my eyes, her body jerks and bucks, and she screams, a most wonderful sound that makes me lose control. And then I’m spraying inside her, and she’s shivering and trembling and whimpering so loudly I’m sure it has to attract every irox in the sky. But I don’t care at all. They can come. I want them to witness this. This is the most wonderful bliss I’ve had. It’s entirely unreal. Just Caroline and I exist in the whole world, but it’s not accurate to think of us as separate just now. In these moments, it feels like we’re one and the same. Both our bodies and our minds.

  A sudden flash goes through my mind: I never want to be without Caroline.

  If the Ancestors demand that of me, then they can do their worst. I won’t obey.

  25

  - Caroline -

  How did I ever live without this in my life?

  I curl up on top of Xark’on, burying my face in his chest and drawing deep from his male scent. I’ve had boyfriends before. Of varying quality. But I’ve never had this. This is more than just a boyfriend. A manfriend, maybe? It sounds weird, but it’s the truth. Xark’on is a man, an actual, real one. I don’t think I’ve come across that before. I had to cross light years and go to an alien planet to find that. And now I don’t want to be without him.

  His slow breathing lifts and lowers me, and I could just stay here forever.

  I yawn. I’m getting a lot of fresh air lately, and I sleep so deep here in the safety of the treehouse. His safety.

  “I love you,” I state into his striped chest. Because if this isn’t it, then I’ll never know what it is.

  When I wake up, of course, he’s painting again. Using the tiny stick, making one little dot at a time. I can’t even tell if he’s made any progress since last night.

  I get up and embrace him without a word.

  He hugs me back with the arm that’s not holding the painting stick. “Up early again?”

  “Not as early as you. I’ll make you a paintbrush today. It’s what the artists on Earth use. It’s faster and better for certain things.”

  “I like my stick,” he says. “But it is slow.”

  “And it’s probably hard to use it for painting the sky. It should be more fluid, somehow, not just dots. Although I’m sure you could make it look spectacular.”

  “The sky is always difficult to get right. Especially when I lack blue paint. But not every day has a blue sky. I’ll find a way.”

  I squeeze his massive upper arm, using more force than I would with a normal man. But his muscles are huge, and he can take anything I can give him. I love that.

  He puts his stick down, and we eat breakfast and walk to the trap site.

  Xark’on starts digging, and I dig the pot out from the ground. Today, the liquid from the leaves looks even better. I think it’s the right thickness. I mix in a little bit of the white clay powder and stir with a stick until it’s the perfect consistency. Next time, I’ll add some oil. Animal fat probably isn’t perfect, but if I have to use it, I will. We’ve never seen such a thing as olives or similar stuff here, but I suppose if we searched long enough, we’d find a plant that would give oil. There’s no rush.

  I look towards the cave where the girls are. I can’t help being glad that I’m stuck on this side of Troga’s trench and not on the other. If I’d gone there a day earlier, for instance, and then tried to return here yesterday, I’d have had no way of coming back here other than to follow the trench and find its end, probably getting totally lost in the process. Lost in a jungle full of monsters. I shudder. Gods,
I’d be devastated if I couldn’t get back here.

  Is there any other way for me to signal them that I’m okay? I know they can’t see the treehouse from the cave or anywhere near it. I’d never seen it until I was here. The tree is the tallest around here, but from a distance, it probably melts into the background of jungle. Even so, when Heidi or Ar’ox are flying on their dactyl, they should be able to see a light if I pointed it in the right direction. Except, they don’t like to fly on that thing at night. There’s no reason to. They can’t see much, and it’s not like a dactyl comes equipped with searchlights.

  Still, it’s worth a shot. A torch will still be seen during twilight. Unless it’s between the cave and the sun. Which it probably is. Well, I can try. Are there other ways? Maybe a banner saying ‘I’m fine! Being fucked so well by an awesome caveman and going to trap a dragon! Don’t wait up. Signed, Caroline’. We’d have to flay a pretty huge dinosaur to get so much skin that the banner would be seen from far away. And it would take too much time.

  No, the torch idea is the only way. I’ll try it tonight.

  I get busy making a paintbrush for Xark’on. I should have thought about it yesterday when I hunted that not-sheep. I didn’t bother to take much care of the fur since it wasn’t all that nice, and I cut it up too much while gutting the thing. I find the spot where I buried the parts of the not-sheep I didn’t use, which is always to good idea in order to not attract carrion eaters, which are usually huge insects. I dig the bloody mess up again, and while it absolutely makes me go ewwwww, I’m able to save a patch of grayish fur.

  I cut a suitable twig off a sapling and fashion it into a thin handle, but still thick enough for a caveman to hold comfortably. Attaching each hair from the fur is another issue, altogether, and I struggle with it for several hours. I finally hit upon the idea of splitting the end just a little, filling the crack with sticky sap from an old tree, and pushing the thick ends of the hairs into the sap. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do right now. If Xark’on uses a light touch, enough of them should stay on for the brush to be usable. Heck, he might not even like painting with it. It’s just, I really want to encourage the creative artist part of him. I get the feeling nobody has ever supported his interest before.