First Mataras:
MICHAELA
A Clans of Kalquor Story
By
Tracy St. John
© copyright October 2014, Tracy St. John
Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright September 2014
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s
imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or
events is merely coincidence.
Kindle Edition
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Author’s Note:
This is a companion story to Clans of Kalquor 2: Alien Rule. Please note Michaela contains graphic depictions of BDSM sex between men and an intersex.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Prologue
The Kalquorian Empire was and still is a civilization of great importance to the Galactic Council of Planets. The fierce but intelligent species has been at the forefront of technological, medical, and scientific breakthroughs for millennia. Their military might has never been in question; even their ancient enemy, the opportunistic race of Tragooms, hesitates to attack a Kalquorian force half its size.
However, Kalquor’s survival is in jeopardy. The force that has threatened this mighty race is not one that wields weaponry. It cannot even be seen with the naked eye. It is a virus.
Centuries ago, this virus struck the home world of Kalquor, wiping out a substantial number of its people, particularly the females. Symptoms included massive bleeding of the body’s major organs, along with those of the female reproductive tract. Damaging the x-chromosome of the Kalquorians, the virus’ effects went beyond death. The majority of women not killed outright were rendered infertile, and daughters born to those who could bear children were not guaranteed the ability to do the same. The virus altered the very DNA of the entire race.
In an effort to keep their race from going extinct and prevent fighting amongst the men, family groups called clans were formed. Each clan was made up of one female known as the Matara (childbearer) and representatives of each of the three breeds of male: the Dramok (leader), Imdiko (caregiver), and Nobek (protector).
Despite their efforts, the numbers of Kalquorians continues to decline. So few children are born now that the most recent estimates conclude the species will go extinct in 300 years. Despite all their medical expertise and attempts to find compatible species to mate with, the Kalquorians seem destined to disappear.
Then less than a decade ago, the inhabitants of a small, isolated planet no one knew of flew into the Galactic Council if Planets’ space. These newcomers, searching for colonies to house their ever-growing population, called their home planet Earth. It was immediately remarked upon how incredibly similar they were to Kalquorians. The doomed race took note at once, and hope was restored. It has even been theorized that perhaps the Earthers were the fabled Lost Tribe of Kalquor’s ancient ancestors.
Earth, however, is not as enthralled with their potential distant cousins. Ruled by a government based on fanatical religious beliefs, Earthers have been taught they are God’s Chosen, made in his wondrous image. They look upon Kalquor with hostility and outrage, particularly since the beleaguered inhabitants of that empire suggested compatibility testing for purposes of interbreeding.
The leaders of the Kalquorian Empire, feeling they had no other recourse, decided the time had come to seduce Earther females and convince them to come to Kalquor. Women on Earth are treated as lesser creatures and second-class citizens by the men, and the Kalquorians with their near-worship of women hope they can entice these lifebringers to join their clans. And if the women will not be seduced, Kalquor is no longer above the distasteful necessity of abducting them outright.
Almost 2000 Earther women have come to Kalquor now, putting the Empire and Earth on the brink of war. This is the story of one of those first women to join the Kalquorians ... a woman with a dangerous secret that will mean her execution if Earth catches her.
Chapter 1
Dramok Korkla took a deep breath. With effort, he forced himself to sit still on the plush lounger in his Plasian quarters. He didn’t try to be calm, however. There was no point in that when his heart drummed fiercely, trying to pound a hole as if to escape his chest. Waiting was a bitch on the nerves, especially when one was excited, hopeful, and nervous all at once.
His clanmate Raxstad stood to one side of the lounger, as absolutely still as only a Nobek could be. In the soft light of the floating lighting globes overhead, the huge warrior looked like a boulder with legs and midnight-black dreadlocks. His heavy brow furrowed as he stood silent and still.
Korkla studied the clan protector in the dancing light. Flames crackled from the firepit that sat in the center of the room. The fire moved the shadows over Raxstad’s rough, almost brutish features. One would be foolish to think the man was as thick as his tree-trunk thighs, however. Raxstad was as wily and cunning and resourceful a man as had ever graced Global Security, the law enforcement entity he worked for on the planet Kalquor. Intelligence shared equal space with the feral intensity present in his purple eyes.
The Nobek’s stoic display didn’t have Korkla fooled for one moment, however. Korkla knew Raxstad was every bit as hopeful and anxious as the clan leader. A tendon in his jaw jumped from time to time; his one concession to tension. The fact that Raxstad stood, rather than draping his beefy frame on the other overstuffed lounger or the nearby chair, also spoke to his anticipation.
Their other clanmate Govi didn’t try to hide his agitation. The gentle Imdiko paced back and forth in front of them, his booted feet sinking into the deep white pile of the cushioned flooring. He’d managed to wear a path in the carpet. One could see the circuit he’d made around the firepit, past the waterfall basin, and alongside the dimmed-glass windows that normally looked out over the gardens. And past the door, of course. There Govi always paused, as if listening for steps outside. Even now as Korkla watched, the Imdiko glanced at the door that led to the corridor outside the quarters. Any moment now, they should have their visitor. Or would they?
Govi’s face, as beautifully formed as it was kind, betrayed his anxiety. He knew the stakes better than anyone. He’d worked with traumatized Earther women back on Kalquor. In fact, he had made it his focus as a psychologist. Seeing his concern only worried Korkla more about their chances with the unique lady they waited to meet.
For the third time in the last ten minutes Govi muttered, “Maybe she’s not coming.”
Korkla restrained an urge to grab the Imdiko and make him sit down. “Israla said she is bringing her in the next few minutes.”
“Israla also said the girl has great difficul
ties with facing others who know what she is. We know.”
“And she told us she’d drug Michaela to get her here if necessary. Calm down, Govi. You’re making me nervous.”
Govi halted in front of Korkla. The clan leader looked up at his clanmate and swallowed. By the ancestors, the man was stunning. With high cheekbones, full lips, and perfect symmetry, Govi’s face was breathtaking. Even filled with angst, he couldn’t help but be beautiful. Korkla quelled the urge to drag his Imdiko down so he could kiss all that perfection.
Ignorant of Korkla’s silent worship, Govi continued to fret. His hands closed and opened.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he said, as if he wasn’t treated to his own gorgeous countenance every time he glanced in the mirror. His expression lit with wonder as he looked between the other two men.
Raxstad slowly nodded. His broad face lit with real pleasure. It softened his strong features, giving him his own version of attractiveness. His voice a deep rumble in that massive chest, he confirmed, “She’s the loveliest of her kind that I’ve seen.”
Govi’s excitement faded to be replaced once more with worry. “She has so many issues with self-acceptance, though. After what Israla told me, I’m not sure I can help her. I’ve never had to deal with someone with this level of esteem issues.”
Korkla smiled at his concerned clanmate. “You are the best at what you do, my Imdiko. There is no one on Kalquor more qualified to help this poor woman.” He sounded sincere because he was. Govi, unable to settle his own worries, was amazing when handling the agonies of others. It was why he’d been made the head of Earther Matara psychology in the Empire.
Right now, his Imdiko’s emotions ran the gamut. The mild-tempered psychologist actually scowled at Raxstad, an expression rarely seen on Govi’s face. “By the ancestors, how can you be so still? So controlled? It’s like she had no effect on you at all.”
Raxstad arched a heavy brow at him. “You saw very well the effect she had on me.” He snorted and looked at his crotch. Even in the dim light Korkla could see how lively Raxstad felt. The Nobek had enjoyed watching Michaela Blake and Jessica McInness do a presentation of belly dancing. They all had. Korkla could still detect the spicy scent that betrayed their combined arousal.
The Nobek shook his head. “The way she moved. That lush, young body. Mother of All, how could I not react?”
While Raxstad’s arousal didn’t surprise Korkla, it did worry him. His tone tense with warning, he said, “Both of you be calm. On top of everything else, she is an Earther. They are repressed like no other species. Blatant arousal will probably send her screaming from us.”
Govi fretted, “Yet she needs to know we find her attractive. It’s going to take a careful balancing act, my Dramok.”
Korkla’s tension increased at his Imdiko’s words. How were they supposed to do this? He and Raxstad knew nothing about Earthers, and Michaela Blake’s situation was beyond anything Govi had ever encountered.
He forced himself to take another deep, steadying breath. “We will do our best. That’s all we can do.”
But would it be enough to charm a frightened, self-loathing Earther woman? A woman who was also male?
* * * *
Michaela Blake felt as if she floated down the intimately lit corridor of Plasian leader Saucin Israla’s home. It was like drifting in a happy dream, where peace filled the world and something wondrous waited just around a distant corner.
It didn’t matter that the feeling was a falsehood and that Israla drew her towards devastating rejection. The leshella Michaela had drunk had taken away all the tears and terror she’d felt only moments ago. It would dull the coming pain, putting it on the back burner for later ... unless she could convince Israla to give her a lifetime supply of the potent intoxicant.
The Plasian’s long-fingered hand wrapped around Michaela’s. The grip was firm for such a willowy creature. Like the rest of her species, Israla was a tall, slender humanoid. Her flawless skin was bronze. Her hair, instead of the usual olive color of the residents of Plasius, had been dyed in gold and silver hues. Her eyes looked made of black marble with gray and white veins running through them. She was regal and stunning. With her famed appetite for young men of all species, no one would ever suspect Israla was old enough to be Michaela’s great-great-grandmother.
Michaela’s mind was not on her hostess and savior’s age or sexuality. It was on the hopes and fears of what lay ahead. Even with the calming influence of leshella, she knew the awfulness ahead of her.
Her voice seemed to float from her mouth, which made her want to giggle. “You said this is an important clan?”
Israla could be aloof with many people, but she always treated Michaela with the greatest kindness, like an adored younger sister. Her smile bright, the Plasian said, “Dramok Korkla is the personal aide of Crown Prince Clajak of Kalquor. Korkla’s Imdiko is a top psychologist and his Nobek is part of the Empire’s Global Security force. They have great rank.”
Michaela tittered, the frothy effervescence of the drink in her system coming out in that breathless trill “So there’s a psychologist in the clan. He’ll have his hands full with me, won’t he?”
Her next thought stopped her dead in her tracks. The sudden halt yanked Israla backwards for a momentary lack of grace. The Plasian gasped, then straightened and looked at Michaela with serene composure as if nothing had happened.
Michaela asked, “If this clan is so important, why are they seeing me? Why aren’t they meeting with Jessica who is – normal?”
Israla started to frown and stopped herself. Michaela had noticed her hostess was militant against anything that might mar her seemingly ageless beauty.
The Plasian’s tone managed to be both exasperated and reassuring. “You are the one they want, Michaela. Your unique circumstances are quite entrancing for the Kalquorians.”
“That can’t be. No one would want a freak.” Michaela was grimly assured that a mistake had been made or Israla had bribed the clan into meeting with her.
Israla shook a finger at her. “If you say that horrid word one more time, I will be cross with you, young lady. I will tell Nobek Raxstad you need to be disciplined. Trust me, Kalquorian men are very effective when it comes to punishing naughty girls. They are always happy to spank a bare bottom.”
She followed up that nugget of information with a girlish titter. Then she turned and resumed her course down the hall, dragging Michaela along.
Michaela didn’t know which shocked her more: the idea that the alien men might like to spank her or that Israla liked being spanked. After all, the Plasian Saucin was the most powerful female Michaela had ever met. She gave orders with the ease that most breathed air.
To be spanked by a man ... what would that be like? Israla had a look on her face that told Michaela the Plasian regarded such as more reward than punishment.
Michaela thought about it, her leshella-soaked brain giving the issue a warm tinge. She thought of lying across the big muscled thighs of one of the Kalquorians she’d danced for earlier tonight, her ass bare. Of a large calloused paw rising above her vulnerable flesh. Of it coming down, moving fast towards her waiting buttocks...
Before she could finish the fantasy, Israla halted her before one of the doors in the guest wing. She peered closely at Michaela. “Let me have a look at you. Good, no sign of any crying. You look beautiful.”
A stab of fear broke through the hazy intoxication that kept Michaela feeling safe. She sucked in her lower lip. “Do I? I don’t look – wrong?”
Israla grabbed her shoulders, reminding Michaela of how broad they were. Too broad for a woman, even though her frilly blue blouse was cut to minimize the look.
The Plasian spoke firmly. “Michaela, Clan Korkla knows exactly what you are. These men are excited to meet you and have the opportunity to court you for their clan. Stop thinking like an Earther. This is the rest of the universe, and you are not an oddity.”
Not an oddity. If only
that was true.
Michaela said, “I’m different from the rest of my species.”
“Which makes you all the more a treasure,” Israla insisted. “Let’s see your smile.”
Michaela put it on dutifully. She adored Israla and had never been able to refuse the Plasian anything except sex. Michaela was not attracted to females.
As hard as she tried to smile for the Saucin, the uplifted position of the corners of her mouth felt fake. Still, she put her best effort into it.
It managed to satisfy Israla, who turned from her to rap on the door. In the next few seconds, Michaela felt as though she waited for her doom.
Could someone like her really find men who would accept a freak? Was it possible they could even love her? No. That was a fairy tale, the dream kept in the deepest corners of her heart. It would never be real.
Time ran out for her to turn tail and run. The door slid open and the shadow of a huge man fell over Michaela.
The big man spoke in a voice much softer than she had expected from a giant Kalquorian who stood nearly a foot taller than her. As he bowed, he said, “Good evening, Saucin Israla.”
Two more men stood behind him, and Michaela goggled at them. They were also giants. One bulged with so much muscle she couldn’t help but stare.
She recognized them from the belly dancing exhibit she’d put on with her friend Jessica only an hour earlier. There had been four Kalquorian clans present at the show, four potential groups of men to seduce into taking the women off Earth-blockaded Plasius. These three fellows had sat at one end of the stage. They’d been the most appreciative of the clans, howling and applauding her dancing with unrestrained enthusiasm. Michaela had caught herself doing her most salacious moves for them, too caught up in the dance of Raqs Sharqi to be inhibited.
Now she stood face to face with them, shaking as the leshella’s effects waned before her terror.
Michaela Page 1
