Alien Slave

by Tracy St. John

  Krijero pressed a second finger into her, and glorious bliss suffused her. It did feel as good as G-spot stimulation, bringing that swelling feeling into her lower parts again, growing from easy pleasure to heady arousal to excruciating need. Dani fought to

  drive herself over those talented fingers, to bring the explosion that wanted to come. Her legs splayed so wide apart, she could only twitch and grind the least little bit.

  She keened between clenched teeth. “Please, Krijero?”

  “Faster or harder?”

  “Both.”

  “Can you come quietly?”

  “I promise … please…”

  His fingers dove in and out, his palm thudding quietly against her pussy as he worked her. The pressure in her loins burgeoned, expanding beyond her ability to hold together. Ecstasy burst through her, turning the black night into the blinding center of the sun. Climax poured through her, a molten river of bliss. She jerked in Krijero’s firm grip, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought not to scream.

  The pulses gentled and slowed until Dani could think again. Just when I think these aliens can’t surprise me anymore, they do.

  “Good, Dani?”

  “You couldn’t tell?”

  Krijero snorted laughter. His fingers exited her, the emptiness leaving her bereft for a moment. He shifted her on his lap, homing his sexes on their intended targets, and Dani eagerly grasped them, wanting to be doubly filled, the way only a Kalquorian could fill her.

  The Imdiko pulled her down while driving his hips up, the entry forceful. Dani grunted at the sudden impaling. Only now did she realize how generous Krijero had been to give her pleasure while his own needs had become torment.

  Slight growls punctuated each thrust. His cock bumped her cervix with every plunge, sending heady sparks of agonized pleasure through her body. Dani dug her fingers into the alien’s shoulders as she re-awoke to implacable desire.

  Krijero suddenly shifted, bearing her down so that she lay on her back with him covering her with his weight. Dani was pinned beneath the huge Kalquorian, helpless against him driving harder and faster into her. The rough use and her vulnerability only made her wetter, hotter. Climax rushed at her again, a speeding freight train that would crush her beneath its force. A high, thin cry escaped her.

  The Imdiko’s hand clapped over her mouth. The added subduing heightened the thrill of his possession. She was cresting … going over …

  Her insides seized. Hot, sharp, excruciating elation lit her from the inside out, bursting her into a hundred thousand fireworks. Dani cried out against the muffling hand, the orgasm’s voice refusing to be silenced. Krijero grunted, his rhythm failing as her pussy clenched at him, fighting to draw him in deeper, as if her body could consume his in its entirety. Suddenly his face was burrowed in her neck, his fangs biting down. A brief shiver of pain brought her again, and the Kalquorian snarled around his mouthful of her skin as his cock jerked in her sheath.

  He rutted hard against her as he poured his rapture into her womb. A part of Dani’s mind knew she would be sore later, but as the intoxicant injected by Krijero’s fangs sent euphoria through her, she didn’t care. She loved this rough taking, loved how he dominated her and left her helpless against his passion. Feeling her vulnerability so keenly brought her anew, and she sobbed in gorgeous surrender.

  My enemy, one part of her mind whispered.

  My master. My lover, another part said, besotted with intoxicant and orgasm.

  The second voice was the one she went with. It felt too good not to.

  Sated, Krijero rolled over, bringing her with him so that she lay on top of his warm body. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her in his strength. Dani snuggled against him, wallowing in his warmth as if no Tragooms tracked them. As if she wasn’t merely a slave, bought for his sexual pleasure. As if she mattered to him the way a woman should matter to a man.

  Dani fell asleep with a smile, Krijero’s heart’s bass boom lulling her.

  Chapter 12

  Krijero’s voice, whispering in staccato bursts of his own language, woke Dani some time later. She blinked at the tangerine-tinted sky as Gelan jumped up from his position of spooning with her on the mushy ground. She’d slept through the changing of the watch and switching of the Kalquorians.

  Alarm coursed through Dani as Gelan and Wynhod disappeared from their tiny clearing, dark blurs zigzagging silently through the surrounding trees. She was on her feet in an instant, her mouth opening to question Krijero. The Imdiko immediately covered it with his hand, reminding her of their lovemaking the night before.

  His hushed words drove all thoughts of carnal pleasure away. “Quiet, sweetness. Tragoom scouts are nearby.”

  Dani stepped close to the shelter of his body and froze there, lest the least bit of noise alert their trackers to their location. Seeing Krijero carefully scan the trees around them, she did the same, her ears straining for the slightest sound.

  Apparently Kalquorian hearing was much better than hers, because Krijero suddenly stiffened. His nostrils flared, and his pupils widened until only the barest sliver of blue-purple irises remained. He bared his teeth, fangs descending in a feral display as he put himself between Dani and the woods in front of them. The Earther’s heart galloped like a runaway horse as Krijero pulled a long, gleaming knife out of his boot. She tensed to run from whatever danger was poised to burst from the trees.

  A few yards away, the underbrush rustled. Dani thought she heard a muffled squeal, followed by a thump. Then a long silence spun out. Her breath sounded like a hurricane to her own ears, accompanied by the booms of her horse-hoofed heart.

  Something blurred through the trees, coming right at them. Before Dani was halfway through her turn to run in the opposite direction, the running smears registered as Gelan and Wynhod.

  She had only a moment to see the splashes of blood on their faces, chests and arms and the percussion blasters they’d snagged off their enemies before Gelan swung her into his arms. “We go. Now,” he said and took off.

  The landscape blurred around her with the speed of Gelan’s running, and Dani shut her eyes against a sudden rush of nausea.

  * * * *

  The Kalquorians raced across the landscape, getting deeper and deeper into the thickening forest and leaving marshlands behind. Dani only parted her lids from time to time to note their progress. Gelan’s unbelievable speed smudged her surroundings, rocking her queasy stomach.

  Had the Kalquorians known how she struggled against increasingly wobbly guts the next two hours, they would have been impressed. Dani was well aware of the danger of dehydration in the humid atmosphere and how getting sick would sap her of needed resources. The chasing Tragooms were another consideration. She had no way of knowing how close they followed, so she fought with grim determination. Her internal battle was herculean in scope.

  She finally realized she couldn’t fend it off any longer. Her stomach was angry, roiling soup, and it was ready to spill over in every way it could.

  “Stop. Gelan, I’m going to be sick!” she cried between clenched teeth.

  Gelan halted, the other two coming to a stop beside him as he set Dani down. She immediately crouched and waved her arms around wildly to keep them back out of the line of fire. Then she lost it, her stomach and bowels straining to empty her out of what little they contained.

  Even after nothing was left, Dani had difficulty getting her stomach to unclench. She shuddered all over, chilled despite the climbing heat. Her fingers had dug into the soft dirt. It took a moment to realize someone held her hair back; more hands stroked gently up and down her back.

  Krijero sounded concerned. “She’s clammy all over. What did you eat yesterday besides the bugs, sweet girl?”

  Dani blinked back tears. Her eyes always spouted when she puked, and her nose always ran when she cried. Leaking from everywhere, she thought. Only her ears remained dry. She would have been utterly humiliated by her grossness if she didn’t feel so bad.


  She answered Krijero’s question. “Nothing. It was probably the water I drank when I first ran from you. I didn’t get a chance to boil it.”

  There was a moment of strained silence. They knew as well as Dani how dangerous bacteria running loose in the body could be.

  “You gave her bacterial medication,” Wynhod said.

  Krijero’s voice was strained. “So many hours later that the effects would have been negligible.”

  A small bottle of water appeared before her face. “This is purified,” Gelan said.

  “I’m afraid I’ll just sick it up again.” Dani’s voice was thick with the sobs that announced how weak and worthless she felt.

  “Drink it, little fighter,” Wynhod coaxed. “Even if you vomit, a little will stay in your system.”

  Dani nodded. She sipped cautiously while the men set about cleaning her up. She cried harder still from both the kindness they treated her with and the humiliation of her condition.

  “Try to calm down, sweet girl,” Krijero soothed as they wiped her off with fabric torn from their formsuits. “Take deep breaths. You’re using up energy and losing more fluids this way.”

  Dani made herself settle down. Once they cleansed her as best they could, Krijero lifted her shaking body in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  Wynhod glanced back the way they’d come. His brow furrowed deep. “We really need to get to the ship as fast as we can. Not only is her health in danger, but the main Tragoom party would have found their scouts by now. They’ll be coming as fast as they can.”

  Gelan looked at Dani. He caressed her cheek with the back of one hand. “She can’t handle the journey. We have to find a place to hide for her to recover.”

  Dani expected Wynhod to argue. Instead, he pulled his handheld off his belt and tapped commands. “Give me a moment to sync up with the ship’s computer.”

  Gelan nodded and took a few steps away, watching and listening for pursuit. Krijero murmured to Dani in his own language, his words soothing nonsense in her ears. God, her guts hurt. She felt a fresh wave of nausea and tamped it down. She had to keep the water down.

  Wynhod spoke up. “There are a couple of caves eight miles to the west.”

  Gelan went to the Nobek’s side to study the handheld. “It will have to do.”

  Wynhod re-attached the mini-computer to his belt. “I’ll stay behind to throw our pursuers off your trail and meet up with you tonight.”

  “Be careful.”

  They were leaving him? Dani protested, “No, the Tragooms will kill you. Go with us.”

  Wynhod’s fierce face softened at her weak cry. He stepped close, gathering her hands in his, bending down to kiss them. “I will be all right, little fighter. They won’t catch me, and I’ll rejoin you in a few hours. Be a good girl for Gelan and Krijero. Do what they tell you so you can regain your strength.”

  Dani squeezed her eyes shut against a fresh flood of tears. She couldn’t cry, and she couldn’t puke. She also couldn’t watch Wynhod not come with them.

  He kissed her forehead. His voice was gruff as he said, “You’d better get moving. Take care of her. I’ll see you soon.”

  Krijero hugged Dani close, and she buried her face against his chest. She concentrated on the thumping of his heart, ignoring the pains in her stomach, the chills that made her shake, and most of all, trying not to think of Wynhod on his own against a platoon of Tragooms.

  * * * *

  Nearing where the caves should be, Gelan led Krijero through the sun-dappled forest. In these higher elevations, the scents were growing earthier, less rotted as they moved farther from the marshland.

  And farther from the ship. He worried about that, but there was no help for it. They had to get Dani to a safe spot to treat her, out of the reach of the Tragooms hunting them.

  Gelan also worried for his Nobek. As smart and able as Wynhod was, Tragooms were clever fiends and brutal adversaries. If a group of them caught up to him, he didn’t stand a chance.

  Worry only about the things you can help, he reminded himself. That’s what the Book of Life counseled, and it was sound advice. If he could just take it, he’d be in good shape.

  His biggest concern was that he couldn’t help what mattered most of all: Dani’s health. She faded in and out of consciousness now, whimpering from time to time as Krijero carried her in Gelan’s wake. She continued to puke up the water they gave her. There was a sweetish-sick odor coming off her in waves. Her too-pale face scared the Dramok the most, and from his clanmate’s expression, Krijero was frightened too.

  Gelan couldn’t help but ask the question he already knew the answer to. “How is she doing?”

  The strain in Krijero’s voice had nothing to do with carrying the feather-light Earther. “She must get hydrated. I think she’s got heatstroke on top of the effects of the bad water.”

  The situation just kept getting worse. “We have to come up with something.”

  “I noticed the vines growing around here are hollow. Once we stop, I’m going to try giving her an enema. It’ll get some liquid in her that she can’t vomit up.”

  Gelan knew Krijero’s suggestion for what it was. A last ditch effort to save Dani’s life.

  The ground wasn’t as soft, and outcroppings of rocks dotted the landscape. In one more mile, they should be on the caves. Then what, Gelan wondered? If his Imdiko’s idea failed, they had no medicine for the bacteria that had taken hold of Dani’s system, no way to make her keep down the water she needed to live.

  One obstacle at a time. Find those caves first.

  “We’re almost there. Hold on, little Dani,” Gelan muttered. He tried not to think grim thoughts as they continued on.

  * * * *

  Dani drifted in a haze. Sometimes she found herself on Earth, both the whole version and the post-Armageddon nightmare. Sometimes she was back in the Dantovonian brothel. The strangest place she woke to was a rocky cave near a fire, like some prehistoric Neanderthal.

  The worst place she emerged in by far was her mother’s room at the drug treatment center. Dani wasn’t sure how she came to be sitting on the bed next to Emily Sturn-Watson, renowned psycho-junkie socialite and absentee parent. It was probably her father’s doing. Sometimes he sent Dani to visit her mother during an election year, to gauge whether or not Emily could manage public appearances for his latest campaign.

  The room was a nightmare of overbearing good cheer. Sunshine yellow walls competed with the meadow green bedspread, curtains, and carpet. Sky blue painted furniture scattered the room: bed, nightstand, and armoire. It was a room that looked like the innocence of Little House on the Prairie had exploded all over it.

  And seated in the midst of all this happy crappy was Dani’s mother, perched like an exotic bird on the edge of the bed in a fuchsia robe. She was a scream of vibrancy in pastel hell.

  “I see they got you too,” Emily chortled. “Don’t worry kid, the worst part is group therapy, and you can get out of that by throwing a screaming fit. Then you’ll get a nice hit of sedative, and they’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

  “Good to know,” Dani muttered. Her mom was the queen of finding ways to get her chemicals.

  “Just don’t attack anyone. That’ll get you in restraints, and I can tell you that’s no thrill ride.”

  Jeez, the place was a sauna. Was the air conditioning broken? “Hey Mom, what’s with all the makeup?”

  You could tell what kind of day Emily was having by her makeup. If she wore none, she was depressed and it was time to hide all the pointy, sharp objects. If she’d layered it on, looking like a Happy Mom Clown, she was in high spirits. This was also when she made her worst decisions, like showing up unannounced at a random elementary school with cartons of ice cream and boxes of cookies for the kids. Besides the face full of makeup, she’d worn only a feather-trimmed bathrobe. In October, a damned cold month in Delaware. The press had had a field day with that one, after which Dani’s father’s
publicists had spent two weeks dealing with the fallout.

  Days that found Emily with her makeup applied carefully like she was due at a photo shoot were good days. She was on her game then, making phone calls, meeting with community leaders, floating through the day with assuredness that Dani envied. And if she seemed distant even on these occasions, at least she spared a moment to greet her children, comment on their clothing choices that day, and even ask about school with a tinge of motherly concern.

  Those lucid days had grown fewer and fewer as the years went by until Emily could go months without experiencing any.

  Today was a Happy Mom Clown day. Sparkling fuchsia eyeshadow to match Emily’s robe competed with turquoise eyeliner. Peach blush applied unevenly gave her face an off-kilter look, as if one cheek had been jerked up by a fish hook. Her screaming fire-engine red lipstick smeared on her teeth, like she’d taken a bite of raw meat. Frizzing copper-penny hair, a match to Dani’s, had been twined in improbable little-girl braids.

  Looking at her made Dani feel ill. Her stomach hurt, and she looked down at her own bare feet.

  Why don’t I have shoes on, she wondered?

  Her mother chattered happily, discordant thoughts streaming from her mouth with no rhyme or reason. “I remember your father taking me on a Ferris wheel on one of our first dates, and I laughed at how all the people below us became ants. The last time I used Westgate Caterers, two pieces of the silver service went missing. Did you try the crab bisque? I thought the way Hattie Sullivan dressed at the party was an abomination, but I just went on and on about how adorable she was. Her husband contributed to your father’s campaign.”

  “I think I’m sick, Mom.” Dani’s stomach cramped painfully.

  “Of course you are, dear! Everyone is.” Dani glanced up to see Emily beaming at her approvingly. “That’s the secret, you know. It’s the well ones that are unhappy.”