Feast: A Rough & Twisted Sci-Fi Romance

by Lizzy Bequin

  “Thank you,” she said when she was able to.

  Thusar grunted.

  His face had already hardened again, and he leaned forward, resting his square chin on his fist.

  “I have given you something,” he said. “Now I expect something in return. You will answer my questions, Ika.”

  She let go a shivering sigh and nodded.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Many things,” the ukkur growled. “But first and foremost I want to know two things.”

  Ika smudged away her tears and awaited his questions.

  “What is that hole between your legs, and what does it do?”

  CHAPTER 12

  Outside, the sun was getting low in the sky. Another hour, and the clouds would be blazing with a thousand fiery colors of sunset. Meanwhile, inside the warm hollow of the cave, another fire was blazing, and Muk was putting it to good use preparing the evening meal.

  The air filled with the sounds and smells of cooking food. In a massive steel pan, strips of krelk bacon sizzled in their own fat, which Muk would use shortly to fry up a few dozen gollan bird eggs. The savory aroma of the cooking meat mingled with the sweeter scents of the honey laced porridge that was bubbling lazily in a pot and the ksh cakes that were cooking on a flat iron skillet.

  It was Muk’s favorite time of day.

  It wasn’t just the eating that he enjoyed, although he did enjoy that a lot. But the cooking was even more enjoyable.

  After the other ukkur freed him from the nith-operated ksh farm where he had been a slave, they had given Muk the chore of cooking the daily meal, mainly because none of them particularly cared to do it. But it soon became clear that Muk had a special talent for it.

  That made Muk feel good. He liked being of use. He had a skill, and he was an asset to the group.

  But tonight, Muk was pulling out all the stops. He was preparing the very best meal that he could because tonight they had a very special guest.

  Ika.

  Ever since the strange creature had come into their possession that morning, Muk had hardly taken his eyes off her. She stirred feelings in Muk’s body that he didn’t understand. Feelings that were both painful and pleasant at the same time.

  She made his balls throb with a heavy ache, and his stick was so swollen with arousal that he had been forced to tuck it up beneath his belt to keep it from jutting through the strips of fur that formed his kilt.

  Muk stared at her across the wavering heat of the fire. She was huddled by the wall, a leather leash tied around her delicate throat and connected to a stone pillar that was part of the cave’s natural architecture.

  Thusar, the pack leader, had questioned Ika for the better part of the day, asking about her origins, about Rolf, and most of all about that hole between her legs. The interrogation and not uncovered much. At first, Thusar had thought Ika was withholding information, but it gradually became clear that she was not.

  She knew as little about herself as the ukkur did.

  Seeing Ika leashed like an animal panged Muk’s heart, but he understood that it was a necessary precaution. She had tried to run away once, and that simply could not be allowed. Now that they had this lovely creature in their possession, they could never let her go. Never.

  Muk let his eyes wander down Ika’s naked body.

  She had pulled her long mane over her shoulders to cover her chest bumps, and her hips were turned to conceal that enticing hole between her legs. But no matter how she tried, she could not conceal all of those splendid curves that sent the blood rushing between Muk’s legs until he felt lightheaded.

  Gods, she made him so hard it fucking hurt.

  Muk wasn’t even sure what it meant that Ika was a she. He only knew that she was not an it, not some mindless animal. She clearly had a sharp and sometimes devious intellect. Nor was she a he, like Muk and his pack brethren. There was a delicacy to her, a fragility to the way she had been put together.

  And of course, there was that hole between her legs.

  Ika was a she.

  Muk turned his attention back to his cooking before he burnt something by accident.

  This meal needed to be perfect.

  Perfect for his Ika.

  Once the food was all ready, Muk doled out big portions for his pack brethren. Then he set to work carefully preparing a nice platter for Ika. Several rashers of crispy krelk bacon. A couple of fried gollan eggs, vibrant yellow in the center. A stack of piping hot ksh cakes drizzled with honey. And last, a bowl of steam-curling porridge into which Muk had stirred creamy ksh, sweet honey, and tart darkberry jam.

  The meal was a fucking masterpiece. The best he had ever cooked. Muk’s heart swelled with pride at his accomplishment. Meanwhile, his cock swelled with other feelings as he pictured that food going into Ika’s pretty mouth.

  The extra effort that Muk had put into the meal was not lost on his companions.

  “What’s the occasion, kid?” Gunnar said with a smirk as Muk carefully arranged Ika’s platter.

  Normally Muk would have some humorous retort ready to go, but right now his mind was elsewhere. While the other ukkur tucked into their meals, Muk carried the special platter across the cave to Ika.

  To his disappointment, Ika was none too enthusiastic about the offering.

  She stayed curled up in a ball and turned her head away.

  Had Muk made a mistake? The food that he had prepared was very appetizing to an ukkur. That fact was proven by the loud munching sounds coming from the other side of the cave where his pack brethren were digging in.

  It now occurred to Muk, however, that he had no idea what one was supposed to feed an Ika.

  Still, this food was basically all they had on hand, and he had spent a great deal of time and effort preparing it.

  “Come on,” Muk said, making his deep voice as gentle as possible. “You need to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Ika’s voice was quiet and flat. Her delicate little features were set in an expression of cold displeasure.

  Was that true, Muk wondered? He and his pack brothers typically ate one large meal every day. Sometimes, when the weather or habitat was particularly difficult, they might be forced to fast for several days on end. But under normal circumstances, one huge meal a day with lots of meat was the preference.

  Was Ika different? She certainly wasn’t as big as they were.

  But her belly betrayed her.

  A low, hollow growl came from her midsection. Her face instantly flooded red at her body’s treachery. Muk had seen that response in her several times before, and it pleased him greatly. His stick throbbed behind his belt, and a few drops of his pre-sap leaked from his tip.

  “Eat,” he said, trying to sound more commanding like Thusar. After a moment, he added. “You’ll feel better once you have something hot inside you.”

  Ika’s blush had faded to a rosy pink hue. She turned her head and looked at him through her strands of hair. Without even thinking, Muk reached out and brushed those locks aside, clearing her face.

  “Careful lad,” Gunnar’s voice came from across the cave. “Don’t forget, she’s a biter.”

  Now it was Muk’s turn to redden slightly. For a moment, looking into Ika’s dark, wild eyes, he had almost forgotten that they were not alone. Ika must have noticed his embarrassment, and her expression softened a little.

  Still, she did not accept the tray.

  Her fingers were toying nervously with the ring hanging around her neck. The one that Thusar had recovered from the nith vehicle. Muk wondered what the significance of that item was for her. Clearly more than a decoration. She had been quite upset when she thought it was missing. And quite relieved when it was returned to her.

  Her fingers moved higher, touching the leash around her throat.

  “Is this really necessary?” she whispered to Muk.

  There was something conspiratorial in her voice. As if she expected Muk to sympathize with her in ways the
other, older ukkur could not.

  To an extent, Muk did sympathize. It pained him to see Ika tied up like an animal when she clearly was not. And he knew as well that it pained her to be separated from Rolf. Muk felt bad for holding her captive, but at the same time, he was unwilling to give her up.

  Briefly—only briefly—he conjured in his mind a fantasy of freeing Ika from her bonds and fleeing with her out into the snowbound forest. She would be his and his alone. His to protect. His to feed and clothe.

  And his to do something else with.

  Something else…

  Muk quickly shoved that fantasy back where it belonged in the dark places of his mind. He made his voice as stern as possible and repeated what Thusar had said before.

  “Yes, the leash is necessary, Ika. It is for your own good. You tried to run before, and if you had escaped, you would have surely frozen out there in the forest naked and alone. The leash is for your own protection.”

  “My protection, huh?” Ika seemed unconvinced.

  “To protect you from yourself.”

  Ika’s face reddened again, but this time the source was clearly not embarrassment. She was angry, and Muk felt the hairs on his neck go up.

  She was a biter after all. Gunnar had spoken truthfully. This Ika was not one to be toyed with when she was angry.

  Muk quickly decided to change the subject.

  “Your food will get cold.” He raised the platter so she could smell it. “It will be more enjoyable if you eat it while it’s hot.”

  Ika’s nose twitched, her stomach rumbled again, and she gave in.

  She turned to face him, and he caught a brief but exhilarating glimpse of the dark tuft between her legs before she took the wooden platter and placed it on her lap.

  With her pretense of not being hungry discarded, Ika attacked her meal, crunching bacon and slurping hefty spoonfuls of porridge with her wooden spoon. She devoured the food with so much ferocity that Muk realized she must have been starving. He had assumed that she ate like an ukkur, one big meal a day, but perhaps that was not so.

  “What are these?” she asked, pointing to the fried eggs. She did not wait for Muk’s reply before she started in on them.

  “Gollan eggs. Haven’t you had them before?”

  She looked so fucking adorable, her cheeks bulging out with food. She swallowed a big mouthful and answered.

  “Of course I’ve had them, but never like this. Rolf always bakes them in their shells by the coals of the fire.”

  Her eyes drifted to the cooking implements which Muk had stacked near the fire to be cleaned later. Metal pots and pans and utensils.

  “Did you make all of that equipment?” Ika asked, gesturing with the strip of bacon she was now munching on.

  “We scavenged the metal from nith vehicles. With the use of heat and other stolen tools, Gunnar fashioned them into more useful shapes. He is a very skilled craftsman.”

  Ika listened intently and curiously.

  “Does the food please you?” Muk asked.

  Ika nodded sheepishly.

  “It’s very good. Different, but good.” After a beat, she added, “Thank you.”

  For a few seconds, their eye lines latched together, and Muk felt himself lost in those rich, dark depths. He could stare into Ika’s brown eyes for hours on end, studying the patterns and striations of the irises.

  Then Ika broke their gaze and looked over Muk’s shoulder.

  “Slaine is staring at me,” she whispered.

  Muk cast a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, his silent friend was looking at Ika with an intensity that burned hotter than any fire.

  “He scares me,” Ika admitted quietly.

  “He’s alright once you get to know him.”

  “He doesn’t say very much.”

  “Yeah. I’ve only ever heard him speak his name.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with him!” Muk snapped, feeling suddenly defensive of his friend. But when he saw the way Ika flinched, he lowered his voice again. “Thusar and Gunnar found him. He had escaped from the nith farms all by himself. That’s a rare feat. In the course of his escape, he must have sustained some pretty hard trauma to his head. He does not speak, but he’s loyal, and a brave fighter.”

  Ika glanced at Slaine again and shivered.

  Her spoon was halfway between bowl and mouth, and her little spasm caused a glob of honeyed porridge to drop onto her chest, right in the cleft of her two chest mounds.

  Instinctively, Muk reached forward and swiped the porridge with his finger. Ika gasped, but did not flinch away.

  With his eyes locked on Ika’s, Muk raised that finger to her mouth and pressed it against her lips.

  After a moment’s hesitation, those lips parted for him.

  Muk slipped his finger inside.

  His heart was hammering now. His stick was so hard between his legs that he couldn’t take the pain any longer, and he was forced to free it from his belt, letting it jut through the strips of his kilt.

  He pushed his finger deeper, remember how Gunnar had done the same with the hole on Ika’s other end.

  Ika sucked away the porridge and honey. Her tongue swirled, wet and warm around his tip, and she moaned lightly through her nose.

  Muk finally drew his finger back, and her lips made a little smacking sound.

  Muk’s cock pulsed, dribbling more sticking fluid down his shaft.

  A fire was burning inside him now. Two fires, actually. One behind his sternum, and another inside his balls. He didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to do, so he simply followed his impulses.

  He gathered Ika’s long hair and set it behind her shoulders, one side and then the other, exposing her naked mounds.

  “Stop it,” she said breathlessly, but made no move to resist him.

  Muk took the spoon from her hand. He scooped it into the porridge bowl, lifted an heaping spoonful, and deliberately dropped it on her her left mound. The porridge and honey and jam dripped and curved around the erect, pink tip.

  “What are you doing?” Ika hissed.

  Muk swiped at the spilled porridge, enjoying the springy feeling of her nub as his finger grazed over it.

  Again, he lifted his finger to Ika’s mouth. Her face was redder than Muk had yet seen it.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Fine.”

  He popped his finger in his own mouth and sucked it clean. Then he threw himself on her, licking away the remainder that was dripping down her chest.

  “Muk!”

  Ika yelped and tried to pull away, but he held her, sucking and lapping at her plump mound of flesh. He sucked her nipple hard, and it became even firmer between his lips.

  “What’s going on over there?” Thusar growled from behind.

  Muk drew himself off Ika’s nub with a wet pop of his lips.

  “Whatever you’re doing over there, kid, you’d better stop it.”

  The young ukkur had a decision to make. He could obey his pack leader and stop now. That would be the wise thing to do. Clear Ika’s platter. Take all the cooking implements down to the river to wash them before nightfall. While he was at it, he could take care of the ache in his balls by draining his white sap.

  But Muk’s instincts were overriding his good sense. He needed to keep going. Needed to explore this marvelous creature who sat naked and blushing before him.

  He needed to taste her body. Every fucking inch of her.

  Muk took Ika’s platter and set it aside on the cavern floor. Her tension relaxed for a beat, but immediately returned as Muk took up the half-eaten bowl of porridge and honey and jam and held it above the joining of her legs.

  “Muk, what are you doing?” she gasped. “What are you—oh!“

  Muk dumped the remainder of the bowl on Ika’s naked crotch.

  Then, with a wicked growl, he dove in, burying his ravening face between her trembling thighs. He slurped and sucked and lapped at the sweet spil
lage until he had eaten his way through to the real treat—the raw, tangy flavor of Ika’s hole.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Muk, stop it!”

  Ika tried to clamp her legs shut, but Muk already had his face insistently wedged between her thighs. The scruff of his youthful but masculine jaw scoured the soft skin of her inner thighs and the even more tender flesh around her hole.

  “Stop!” she gasped. “Oh gods, please…”

  Ika reached down and clutched two fistfuls of Muk’s honey blond hair. She tried to pry his head back, but the ukkur was far too strong for her. It was like trying to pull up a tree stump with her bare hands, that’s how tightly Muk was latched between her legs, sucking and lapping at her opening and her nub.

  “Ohhh…”

  His demanding lips and insistent tongue were impossible to resist. Even her hands seemed to betray her, helping to steer Muk’s face rather than pulling him away.

  Muk was feasting on her like a ravenous beast, grunting and slurping voraciously at her place of shame with loud, wet strokes of his undulating tongue. The sounds reminded Ika of an urwulf lapping water from a stream.

  schlop, schlop, schlop, schlop…

  Ika writhed and whimpered and yelped under the workings of Muk’s wicked tongue.

  “What the rot is going on over here?”

  It was Thusar’s voice. The pack leader was standing over them now, his body in partial silhouette, his broad shoulders limned by the flickering light of the fire. His companions were beside him. Gunnar, who had touched her inside, and Slaine, who was penetrating her just as deeply with his savage, hungry stare.

  Three brutal ukkur towering over her, watching as their pack brother feasted on Ika’s vulnerable flesh.

  “Make him stop,” she whined. “Please, make him stop…”

  The reason that Ika wanted Muk to stop was not that he was hurting her. Quite the opposite, in fact. The things he was doing down below with his lips and tongue felt good.

  Too good.

  A few more seconds like this, and Ika would have another one of those ecstatic convulsions, and that’s what frightened her. The total surrender to pleasure at the touch of an ukkur. Once Ika went beyond that threshold, she wasn’t sure she would be able to stop. She would be begging all of them to lick her and touch her inside with their fingers.