Feast: A Rough & Twisted Sci-Fi Romance

by Lizzy Bequin

  She had removed the feathers from her hair and all of her decorative jewelry, except for the ring necklace, which she never took off.

  Ika had not come unarmed. Her trusty flint knife was sheathed at her hip, and her hand clutched one of Rolf’s best hunting spears.

  If it came to a fight, Ika would be ready.

  Yeah right. She was no match for a quartet of brutal ukkur warriors.

  Nevertheless, Ika had stalked them through the night. She followed their massive footprints in the snow like a skilled hunter tracking her prey. It was something she had done many times before. Only this time her quarry was not a finnik or even a krelk.

  The beasts she was stalking now were far more dangerous than that.

  Ika watched them from her dark hiding place behind the snow-dusted trunk of a fallen tree. The ukkur had camped in a small clearing, and their campfire cast leaping, outsized shadows against the backdrop of snowy trees.

  Two of the ukkur were fighting ferociously. The young one and the mean looking one with closely cropped hair. They were pummeling and beating each other with their balled fists, and the sounds of the blows rang through the forest like the sound of rocks slamming together. And the scariest part of all, they were grinning and laughing as they did it.

  Rotting maniacs.

  If this was how they treated their friends, Ika was scared to think of what they would do to their enemies.

  Maybe Rolf had been telling the truth. Maybe these monsters would eat her.

  It was hard to believe that these brutal creatures were the same species as her gentle, gray-bearded Rolf. Then again, Ika had no doubt that Rolf could be brutal too if he needed to be.

  Ika shuddered beneath her cloak as she thought of how upset Rolf would be if he found her gone.

  She would watch for just a moment more, and then she would return to the den.

  The other two ukkur were far more mellow than their fighting companions. The one with the beard was working on arrows, binding the stone arrowheads to the shafts with cords of rawhide. But his technique was unusual—different from the way that Rolf had taught her to do it.

  Then there was the leader.

  Ika could barely see him from her vantage point. He was sitting back against a large boulder that concealed most of his body from her view. All she could see of him was an outstretched leg and the puff of steam coming from his hot breath.

  Ika felt a twinge of disappointment.

  He was the one she had most wanted to see tonight.

  But she dared not circle their campsite to get a better view. To do that would be to risk getting caught, and she was already in enough danger as it was.

  Plus, she had to consider the wind.

  Rolf had always taught her to stay downwind while hunting, and that’s what she was doing now. But she had to be careful. The wind could change at any moment. If these ukkur caught her scent, that would spell trouble.

  She was crazy to have come here.

  She had never done anything so dangerous and disobedient in her life.

  It was just that she had felt compelled to look at these ukkur at least once before they departed her territory.

  But what was the strange feeling tickling at her insides?

  Before, when she had watched them from her hiding place at the den, Ika had thought it was a desire to be like them. To be tall and strong and hairy the way a proper ukkur should be. Now, however, she felt that wasn’t exactly right.

  No, what she desired was something different.

  She desired to be with them, though she didn’t even know what that meant.

  Ika caught herself fidgeting with her ring necklace.

  Suddenly, the leader stood up. His long, thick mane of hair was limned with the flickering orange glow of the fire, and when he turned, Ika could see the light glinting from the smooth skin of the scar that slashed across his eye.

  She ducked lower, fearful that he would see her.

  Her heart was beating a frantic tattoo inside her ribs.

  But the leader didn’t seem to notice her. He said something to his companions that Ika could not make out, and then he tromped off into woods in the direction of the stream.

  Ika relaxed and let out a silent sigh of relief.

  Now was the time to go back home. It had been late when she had set out from the den, and she had walked slowly, listening for danger every step of the way, so it had taken her a long time to reach the ukkur camp. If she headed back now, she would be back home and in bed before first light.

  But something tugged at her curiosity.

  Where was the ukkur pack leader going?

  Ika had to make a decision. She could leave now and slip away unnoticed. Or she could follow the pack leader and run the risk of getting caught.

  Ika’s curiosity got the better of her

  She didn’t know what it was exactly. She had always been well behaved and obedient up to now. But breaking the rules was addictive, and sneaking around in the forest at night was exciting.

  Just one more quick peek at the leader, and then she would skitter back to the den.

  Ika moved slowly and silently through the snow, stepping on the balls of her feet the way Rolf had taught her. She had seen the direction the leader had gone, but she had lost sight of him. She had to be careful to maintain a safe distance.

  As she ventured deeper into the shadows of the forest, the sounds of the fighting ukkur receded into the background, replaced by the chilly babble of the half-frozen stream.

  Carefully, quietly, Ika ducked beneath the low-hanging branches, until the trees opened up on the riverbank.

  Ika crouched in the shadow of a large boulder and cautiously peered over the top.

  The clouds had all rolled away, and the night sky was clear. The moon was out and almost full, and its beams reflected off the crisp snow, illuminating the forest with an eerie, bluish light. Nearby, the frigid water rushed past, carrying with it big hunks of mountain ice that had just begun breaking up as the spring thaw approached.

  The forest was beautiful this time of year.

  But that’s not where Ika’s attention now lay.

  She was focused on the massive, pensive figure standing only a dozen paces ahead of her on the riverbank, his hot breath ghosting out in moon-silvered plumes.

  The ukkur.

  The pack leader.

  Gods, he was rotting huge. His back was strong and straight as the trunk of a tree.

  The ukkur stood there for a moment, silently taking in the scenery. He seemed to be contemplating something very deeply, and Ika wondered what thoughts were passing through the brute’s head.

  Then his hands moved to his pelvis and yanked back the flap of his fur kilt that was covering his crotch.

  Ika had to bite down on her lip to stifle a cry.

  Something long and thick swung into view, its contours limned in the pale light of the moon. It was not perfectly straight; the shaft of it curved gently skyward, and it was lined with a network of plump veins. As for the tip, it was blunt and smooth and glistening. It must be incredibly hot, because whisps of steam trailed from its throbbing length.

  It was the ukkur’s piss stick.

  And it was hard.

  Ika knew that happened to Rolf’s stick sometimes too. He thought she didn’t know about it, but she had caught a glimpse one time at night when Rolf thought she was sleeping. He had gone outside then, and Ika had heard him grunting as if in pain. The next morning, when she inspected the ground outside the den, she had discovered a dried residue like a snail’s trail only a much, much greater quantity.

  That had sparked Ika’s curiosity. But now, looking at this unfamiliar ukkur’s hard prong jutting from his pelvis, a totally different feeling was sparking inside her.

  Was it envy?

  Not exactly. Ika certainly wished she had that rigid pole, but not in an envious way. She simply wanted to touch it, to feel the tick of the ukkur’s pulse through the taut skin. To see how it would react t
o strokes and caresses.

  Suddenly, the ukkur spat into his right hand, gripped his meaty shaft, and began working his fist up and down its hard length with the warm saliva as lubrication.

  Ika’s blood heated a couple of degrees.

  Her nipples pebbled beneath her fur cloak, and between her legs, moisture leaked from her cleft.

  Shit. Not now…

  Ika thought that she was bleeding again. But it was too early in the month for that. And when she reached down to check herself, she could tell right away that it was not that strange, thick blood that came from her hole, but a different slippery secretion.

  That happened sometimes too, though Ika did not understand why. It was rather like when her mouth would water when she smelled delicious meat cooking over the fire.

  But what could the little mouth between her legs want to eat?

  Her eyes went back to the ukkur and the long, hard member that was being stroked in the moonlight.

  Gods, whatever that ukkur was doing, he was really getting into it now. He was tugging at his huge stick with increasing fervor. Low, brutal grunts were rolling from deep in his throat. His brow was furrowed with tension, as if he were concentrating very hard.

  What ever could he be thinking about?

  In the darkness of her hiding spot, Ika realized that she was touching herself too. She had set down her spear, and her hands seemed to have taken on a life of their own, moving unconsciously and instinctively to the most sensitive parts of her body.

  Her left hand kneaded one of her chest lumps through her fur clothing. She withdrew that arm inside her cloak to touch herself skin on skin, and nearly yelped with shock at the coldness of her fingers when they touched her hard, hot nipple.

  Luckily, Ika remembered where she was and bit her lip to stifle her cry.

  Her left hand was not the only one touching herself now.

  Ika’s right hand had slipped beneath the ragged edge of her cloak and was now rubbing at that shameful place between her legs. The place that made her different. Even more wetness was spilling out of her now. If she wasn’t careful, the furs would be stained with it and with her strong scent.

  Her fingertip brushed the taut nubbin at the top of her slit. That little nerve bundle was hypersensitive now, and a jolt of raw pleasure shot into her core.

  Once again, Ika felt an urge to cry out. She was forced to bite her lip hard to stifle the sounds welling in her throat.

  If this ukkur was alerted to her presence, Ika would be in trouble. This brute would obviously be none too pleased about her spying, and there was no telling how he would retaliate.

  Ika could only imagine his response would be violent, and it would probably involve that hard, heavy rod of flesh too.

  Gods, that thing was so big. Ika could easily picture him wielding it like a weapon.

  The thought of that stiff pole battering her gasping face and smacking her naked behind sent a warm, ticklish feeling snaking through Ika’s veins.

  She had to keep herself under control.

  The ukkur was grunting harder now. He was jerking himself furiously, and friction of his fist sliding along his shaft made a slick sound with each pump.

  shlck-shlck-shlck…

  That sound made Ika even hotter. She began rubbing herself in time to the ukkur’s jacking fist. Her little nubbin was hard and warm as a pebble under her fingertips. Her nub was kind of like a tiny piss stick, Ika thought, only much, much smaller than the monstrosity this ukkur was packing.

  As she rubbed and rubbed, Ika felt a strange feeling welling inside her core.

  She had touched herself like this before, but she had always stopped right before that expanding feeling burst and overwhelmed her. Now, however, watching that huge ukkur tugging his hard meat, Ika feared she would not be able to hold back.

  And the ukkur was clearly experiencing some funny feelings of his own.

  His muscles were growing tight, as if the rigidity in his stick was spreading to the rest of his body like an affliction. Below his kilt of pelts, his muscled thighs were trembling with tension. His voice was twisted in agony. Despite the winter chill in the air, beads of sweat were breaking out along his forehead and neck.

  Ika watched and rubbed and chewed her lip so hard she nearly broke the skin.

  She had never seen anything like this in her life.

  But she was totally unprepared for what happened next.

  The ukkur’s body shuddered as he lost control. He let out a rough grunt, jutted his hips forward, and a long jet of white fluid spurted from his tip. This was followed by another and another—long ropes of a sticky substance that steamed in the cold air.

  At that sight, something clenched in Ika’s hot center.

  The tingling sensation in her nubbin suddenly exploded through every muscle of her pelvis. Her body spasmed with ripples of pleasure, and a sharp sob of surprise and ecstasy broke from her lips before she had a chance to stifle it.

  Ika had never known pleasure like this before. She had never even imaged that it was possible.

  But the sensation was short-lived because a moment later a voice growled aggressively from the moonlit riverbank ahead of her.

  “Who’s there?” the ukkur snarled. “Show yourself!”

  CHAPTER 7

  Ika snatched up her spear from the ground and bolted into the woods.

  She knew the ukkur would be faster than her, but she had a few advantages on her side. For one thing, this was her territory. Ever since she had been old enough to run about, Rolf had taken her around these forests to explore, teaching her how to hunt and track animals. Ika knew every hill and gully and stone.

  And she had another advantage as well.

  Her size.

  Being as small as she was, Ika could easily slip under tree limbs and dart through the underbrush faster than a startled finnik. It was a skill she had developed from her earliest days when she would play hide and seek with Rolf.

  Of course, that had only been a game.

  Tonight, however, her very life was at stake.

  But it seemed to be working. Ika could hear the growling ukkur tromping through the woods behind her, but his bestial grunts and snarls soon receded as he got caught and tangled in the interwoven limbs of the densely packed trees. There was a crackle of snapping branches as the ukkur tried to force his way through, but by then Ika was long gone.

  She didn’t slow down.

  But she was leaving a trail in the snow that was easy to follow, knocking powdery snow from limbs as she sped past. Plus, she knew that she was leaving a scent trail that the ukkur could follow.

  Why had she done it?

  Why had she disobeyed Rolf by sneaking out at night?

  Why had she lingered to spy on that frightening ukkur while he conjured sap from his long, hard pole?

  Ika pressed on, running low to the ground. At times she used her left hand as well, loping along like a three-legged animal while her right hand clutched her spear.

  She did not take a direct path homeward, but she followed a circuitous route—anything to throw her angry pursuer off her trail. She kept out of the moonlight as much as possible, sticking to the shadows, relying more on her ears and her knowledge of the terrain than her vision.

  Ika’s heart was thudding in her chest.

  Her blood ran hot and cold with fear and panic. If only she made it back to the den in one piece, she would never do anything so stupid ever again.

  Ahead of her was another small clearing.

  It would leave her exposed, but she was fairly certain that she had left the ukkur far, far behind. She sprinted hard, darting across the clearing.

  Suddenly, something loomed from the shadows ahead of her. A tree trunk where one had not been just a moment before.

  Ika was running full tilt, and she slammed into the tree so hard it rattled her teeth and filled her vision with starbursts.

  She rebounded, landing sprawled and breathless in the snow.

  Szzkk
kt!

  The hissing, clicking sound that came from above her sent goosebumps prickling over Ika’s skin, and her stomach knotted with fear. It was not a sound that she had ever heard, but it matched a description Rolf had given to her many times before.

  The stars cleared from Ika’s eyes, and she stared up at the thing she had barreled into. It was not a tree trunk, though its reptilian hide was every bit as rough and gnarled as the bark of a tree.

  It was a nith.

  The creature towered over her in the moonlight. Its body was somewhat like an ukkur’s—two arms and two legs—but it was lankier, and it was clothed in a uniform of dark, perfectly smooth material that looked like no pelts Ika had ever seen.

  The head atop the creature’s shoulders was nothing like an ukkur, however. Jet-black leathery skin, an elongated pair of jaws bristling with fangs, and a pair of beady, soulless eyes.

  A terrified cry died in Ika’s throat.

  There were more of the creatures emerging from the shadows, a half dozen in total. They advanced, ringing her in. Long metal weapons glinted in their hands. The one that Ika had slammed into stood over her and spoke in its ugly hissing, clicking voice.

  “Szzkktt. Well, well, what have we here? A little morsel.”

  Although the nith were a different species, Ika could understand their native language. As a matter of fact, it was the same language that she spoke. The only language she knew.

  Rolf had explained it to her long ago. The nith were the overlords of this world. They grew the ukkur to be slaves on their ksh farms, and they instilled the minds of the ukkur with their language so that they could make them obey orders.

  Obviously, in some cases that obedience had not worked out.

  Is that what would happen to Ika now? Would these nith carry her off and force her into slavery? The cruel gleam in the creature’s eyes made her think they had something even worse in mind.

  Ika was trapped.

  She had a choice to make.

  As far as Ika could tell, three options lay before her. The first option was to simply do nothing, to allow the nith to take her captive without putting up a fight. She immediately discarded that option.

  Rolf had raised her better than that.