Pheromone, page 6
part #1 of For the Love of Aliens Series
My captor shoves his dead comrade off the weapon, turning the large gun on a swivel in the direction of Dragon Dude. Either this is another cannon or else it’s the aforementioned net gun. Doesn’t matter much to me: I’m not letting them fire it no matter what it is.
I look down at the corpse of the tusk guy with the wooden stake in his eye and push aside the pain in my arms and legs to deal with later. My hands wrap around the base of the wood, splinters digging into my sore palms, and I give it a hard yank. It doesn’t budge. It’s thoroughly jammed into this guy’s eye socket. Fucking sick.
A second hard tug sends me stumbling back hard enough that the leash jerks on the tusk guy’s belt and he actually pauses to look back at me.
“Put that down, woman.” He yanks on the leash to pull me toward him, using his other arm to rotate the net gun. Seems he doesn’t see me as a threat. Good luck for me then. I jam the wooden stake into his shoulder … and it does nothing. His skin is much thicker than it looks, certainly thicker than a human’s skin, and my makeshift weapon does little more than annoy him.
Either the eye is just a much better place to stab a wooden stake (it is, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to get it in there without him stopping me), or else alien-dragon-man really sent that debris flying with some force.
A guy is a guy in any universe, I’ll bet. I drop down to one knee which hurts like hell, and I stab the wooden stake into my captor’s crotch as hard as I can. It doesn’t penetrate the fabric of his pants or his flesh, but it at least causes him to miss when he fires the net.
A glowing web shoots from the end of the cannon and opens up over Dragon Dude’s right wing. When it comes down, it comes down hard, not like any net I’ve ever seen. The glowing silver threads dig into the dusty earth of the road and yank the dragon down onto his side.
My captor swings on me, hitting me in the face so hard that I actually black out for a second or two. The pain doesn’t even register until I’m opening my eyes and tasting blood in my mouth. My vision is blurry, my face feels puffy, and the headache that’s coming on has me questioning my life choices.
I should never have agreed to cater Tabbi’s stupid party; bad shit happens every time I’m in the vicinity of that woman. To be fair, I don’t think I could’ve predicted that we’d be kidnapped by alien bounty hunters and sold as pets, but I knew it was a bad idea from the start.
On my first day off in weeks, I’m lying cheek-down in the dirt of an alien world with two merciless suns baking me to death while a dragon that eats people battles against tusk-faced alien sex traffickers. This has got to be a low moment for me. Surely things can only go up from here.
“E-net … again … fire,” a tusk man snarls at my personal captor, helping him adjust the broken tripod (when did that happen?) so that they can turn it in my savior’s (questionable choice of word) direction.
Dragon Dude seems to be stuck where he is with the net holding onto his wing, but he’s not entirely helpless either. I see three more dead men on the ground surrounding him. The two that are wielding the E-net thing or whatever seem to be the only ones left.
It kills me to push up to my hands and knees. The pain is so intense, and I’m so sunburnt and thirsty and hungry and tired that I nearly vomit. But if Dragon Dude loses, I am screwed. These guys aren’t going to forget anytime soon that I got several of their comrades killed by trying to help their enemy. My captor definitely isn’t going to forgive me for trying to drive a wooden stake into his dick—assuming he even has one. Hell, maybe he’s got two? What do I know?
With the very last of my strength, I lunge behind my captor and use the leash like a garrote, wrapping it around his neck and hanging my entire body weight off of it. He grunts in annoyance but doesn’t even bother to acknowledge me. Maybe that’s not how this guy breathes? Shit.
I switch tactics suddenly, reaching up my hand and digging a fingernail into one of his eyes. Now that gets him to howl, and the other man is forced to release the broken E-net gun to wrangle me, jerking me violently off the other guy’s back.
That’s when Dragon Dude (DD for short?) finally breaks free of the net and comes charging at us on all fours.
Tusk Guy Two (the one not connected to my leash) chucks me aside like garbage and sprints down the road in the direction opposite the woods. The other guy tries to run, dragging me behind him for a painful few steps before his head disappears into the dragon’s massive mouth. Snap. His decapitated body collapses beside me, spurting red blood as DD chases down his final opponent.
I don’t see what happens, but I can hear it: bone snapping, screaming, a wet splatter.
I stay right where I am, seated on the ground with a dead body attached to my wrist.
Now what?
I’m panting heavily, and my tongue feels like sandpaper. My eyes are still blurry, and my head is threatening to split right down the middle. Plus, if I don’t get out of this sun soon, I’m going to get heatstroke and die. No joke. I lied when I said it reminded me of the Australian outback; this is worse.
The dragon’s footsteps draw my attention around just as a blissfully cool shade cloud descends over me. I look up to see that he has one of his wings out, shielding me from the blaze like an umbrella. He’s standing on two legs now, like a person, his front claws sheathed, long fingers visible.
“Little … stupid.” The translator crackles in my ear, and I’m shocked to realize that I’m actually still wearing it after all that. The mic part seems to have broken off which I guess is no big loss since it didn’t actually work. Purple blood drips from a wound in DD’s side as he considers me, peeling back his lips so that his wide mouth and all its sharp teeth are on display. He squats down beside me and bites down on the leash, severing it from the dead man’s belt.
I sort of assumed he wasn’t going to kill me, regardless of his reasons for actually attacking the tusk men. He didn’t kill me last night, and he could have easily done so. Then again … he’s an alien. I don’t know anything about this … whatever he is.
“Fuck,” I breathe, and he reacts by lashing out and yanking me into his arms. I’m tossed over his shoulder like a bag of laundry, and the sudden movement is so intense that I pass out briefly. When my eyes open, I’m relieved to see that we’re back in the shade of the trees, the steady, rhythmic footfalls of the dragon guy paired with the sounds of birds (alien birds), insects (alien insects), and a distant roar that sounds much like the ones he made.
He pauses to listen to that, turning over his shoulder to glance in the direction of the sound. And then he keeps going. His wings are held up and to the sides, giving me a clear view of the ground behind us.
“I can walk now, I think,” I offer, but I’m not sure if that’s true. Also, he can’t understand me, so why am I even bothering to talk? I do it anyway. “Really, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but is it possible for me to maybe get some water and some food? A ride back to the market? I know it’s a lot to ask, but there isn’t anybody else around that can help me.”
He ignores me.
We continue walking for some time, and I eventually give into my exhaustion and fall into an uneasy sleep.
The next time I wake up, I’m in the grass and the dragon guy has my face cradled between his massive palms. His hands easily engulf my entire head with room to spare. Also, he’s licking me again. With his long tongue, he bathes a particularly painful spot on my forehead, using measured strokes of that slick, heated muscle to diminish and then banish the ache entirely.
So he was healing me then, I realize, remembering the pseudo erotic thigh lashing I got yesterday. Once he’s done with my forehead, DD moves his tongue to my lips, flicking it across the dry, parched, and split skin and causing me to cry out.
It hurts more than the forehead.
My eyes slam shut, but he pauses, waiting for me to open them again. His lip curls a little, revealing several of those massive teeth. They’re the length of my thumb, easily. Although … is he smaller now than he was earlier? I swear that he’s shrunk some. A growl rumbles through him and even if I can’t understand much of what he says, I understand that. He’s telling me to hold still.
He resumes his once-again-pseudo-erotic licking across my mouth until I’m starting to get uncomfortable, shifting weirdly in the grass and squeezing my thighs together. What is wrong with me? I know I haven’t had sex in a while, but this guy’s not even remotely human. What a reach, Eve. You perv.
Then it gets worse.
Dragon Dude tilts my head back, using his strong fingers to hold me firmly in place, and then he thrusts that massive tongue into my mouth. My eyes go wide and my hands come up to grab his large wrists. His claws are out now, protruding from his knuckles like Wolverine.
He digs in deep, dominating my mouth with strong, sure licks. Slowly, the last of my headache begins to recede. My eyes go half-lidded, and my hips thrust upward of their own accord. I don’t mean for any of that shit to happen; it just does.
My skin begins to tingle, and I can feel this … this hotness burning through my blood. Like poison. I struggle for a minute, sure that, accidentally or not, this alien man is poisoning me with his saliva.
I shove at his wrists, but he just presses his body forward, forcing me to lean back and lose my balance. I end up clutching at his arms instead of pushing them away. There’s a heat in his skin that matches that strange feeling inside my body; sweat begins to pour down the sides of my face.
My entire body goes limp, as if I’m paralyzed from head to toe, and that’s when DD finally pulls away. His mouth opens, this odd, guttural growl emanating from it.
“Last … will … hurt.” He uses one of the clawed hands on his wings to snatch the headset off of me, placing it over his own head. I didn’t think it’d fit, but it seems like there’s plenty of extra headband to unfurl, like a seat belt or a tape measure or something.
“Wait … what?” I manage to murmur, and I know he understands me because he’s got the damn headset on. That long tail of his swings around, and the spikes along the length of it stand on end. As I lie there helpless in his arms, he uses it to wrap around my waist, lifting my shoulder to his mouth.
He bares his teeth at me and then bites down. I can feel those sharp fangs of his entering my skin, penetrating nearly to the bone, but for whatever fucked-up reason, it doesn’t hurt. And then there’s that sinful tongue, lapping away at my blood. This lasts for maybe sixty seconds, but the image of him above me, purple-eyed and alien and wearing a pink headset, is going to stick with me forever.
He releases my shoulder and then licks it, nice and slow and languorous. All that, and I’m left with only faint pink scars, freshly healed over and virtually painless. There are dozens of them from all those teeth. DD looks at me expectantly, as if I’m supposed to respond to what he just did. Err. Okay. I rub at my shoulder with a shaky hand.
“What’s your name?” I whisper, afraid that I’m going to pass out again.
He uses his wing-hand to put the translator back on my head, drops me into the grass, and stands up. He makes no attempt to help me up as my fingers and toes tingle like they’ve been asleep this whole time. Still can’t move though.
I’m struggling to turn on my side for a better view of him when he drops back to all fours, claws digging into the ground as he stalks to the edge of the clearing, wings folded against his back. His tail thrashes behind him, spikes raised and glistening with a purple liquid of some kind.
“Hey.” I force myself into a sideways sitting position, leaning heavily on my palm. “Can you please help me up here? I don’t appreciate being licked and left. At least take me out to dinner first.” I murmur this last part knowing he won’t understand me.
Dragon Dude turns suddenly, the scales from his back lifting like a cat’s raised hackles, the edges glowing purple to match the pulsating spirals on his massive horns. He skitters across the grass in such a way that even if I wanted to pretend he was a man when he was licking me, it’s grotesquely obvious that he’s not.
He scales the side of a massive tree using his claws and then disappears into the brush on one of the limbs. A scream follows, and then a shower of blood. It rains down from the branches just before a body slams into the dirt beside the stream, rolling slowly until it tips over into the water and is carried away on a deceptively strong current.
I’m able to get a good enough look at it that I recognize it for what it is: one of the tusk men.
“Fuck.” I know; I curse too much. I’m trying to kick the habit, but probably won’t. I have good intentions though.
Dragon Dude lands in the blood beside me, spattering my skin with enough of it that goose bumps prickle across my arms and legs. He narrows his eyes at me and curls his lip, letting out another one of those long, low warning growls.
“Get … the … wish.” Whatever it is that he’s trying to say, it’s meant to be a wry tease. I’m sure of it.
“Get the wish?” I ask, realizing as he stands there, towering over me even on all fours, that he’s waiting for me to stand up. It takes me a few tries, but I’m eventually able to get my feet under me. When I sway a bit, he catches me with his tail and pushes me upright.
He turns to stalk away, and I look back at the river, wetting my lips. I’m so thirsty right now; I’m willing to risk that muddy bank and those strong currents. When I turn to see where Dragon Dude’s gone, I find him slowly disappearing into the trees and start to panic.
Being alone in these woods with no idea where the market is, that scares me. I’m a brave girl, but that’s a surefire way to an early death. Not to mention that Jane is still out there somewhere.
“Wait!” I jog to catch up to DD, surprised by how great I feel all of a sudden. Thought I was dying twice in as many days, so this is a nice change. “What did you do to me?”
I take the headset off and hand it over to him, assuming that he’ll put it on and then we can go back and forth for a somewhat normal conversation. He looks at it briefly but doesn’t take it. After a while, he stands up like a man and walks the way I’m walking. It’s a comfort, I won’t lie.
He’s way fucking taller than I am; it’s ridiculous. I’m an average-height girl, but he’s huge. Although … I swear that he was bigger earlier. Can he really change size? My eyes drift down to the spot where his cock might be, but there’s nothing there except for smooth, ebon-scaled skin. Damn it. Supreme disappointment floods me followed by supreme shame. What am I even thinking right now?
“You did something to me.” I point at him, but he doesn’t look at me. Instead, his nostrils flare and it seems like he’s scenting something in the woods. “I appreciate the healing stuff, but I could do without the hormone surge.”
I put the headset back on; if he’s not going to wear it, I may as well get use out of it.
“You riled up my female pheromones and yet”—I gesture at his crotch—“you have no dick. Seems a bit messed-up, don’t you think?” I sound hysterical, don’t I? I am hysterical. Yesterday morning, I was a business owner working my way toward purchasing my first house. By the next, I’m kidnapped by sex trafficking tusk men, and then tongued by a dickless dragon. “Guess you don’t get to mating much?”
That stops him, and he turns those brilliant purple eyes down to me. The relatively normal pupil is nice, but the lack of whites is disturbing. I should’ve fought to go with the moth guy. Except, there was Avril’s blood-curdling scream … I shiver.
DD turns fully toward me then, and I notice that a slit is opening up in his groin. The head of a massive cock emerges, growing to such gargantuan proportions that I clamp both hands over my mouth. Then a second cock appears below it at a slightly different angle, just a tad smaller than the first.
“When … I … little.” That’s what he says to me, and then the slit is closing and both of his cocks are retreating back inside. “Get … the … wish.” He continues walking as I gape at his admittedly very nice ass from behind. It might be covered in smooth scales, but it’s perfect otherwise. I get a nice juicy view of it as his tail moves from side to side.
“Holy shit.” I choke on those words, and then I’m silent for the rest of the walk.
He has two dicks? Do females in his species have two vaginas? Oh, maybe one is for anal? Why am I even thinking about this? Should I keep calling him DD or should I change his nickname to Big Double D? Big DD? Big D?
I decide Big D is too prime a nickname to pass up.
When we get to the spaceship from last night, I spot my tree branch and notice that the small heat vent has grown much larger. Purple smoke drifts up from inside. The closer I get, the more I’m sure I’m not supposed to breathe that. Guess this is why the tusk men were wearing gas masks? I’m lucky I didn’t accidentally kill myself by sleeping next to it.
I edge around it, looking up at the thick canopy overhead as I try to determine how close to nightfall it is. The days here are either really short, or else I was passed out for much longer than I thought. Even with heavy branches overhead, I can see that it’s edging toward darkness.
The thought of spending the night alone on the ground again does not appeal to me. Besides, if I don’t get something to drink soon, I won’t make it that long.
I turn to Dragon Dude aka Big D, determined to argue with him, but he’s already reaching out with his tail and snatching me up by the waist. He hops the fifteen or so feet into the ship like it’s nothing and then sets me down on the floor beside him. The space is a strange mix of decimated tech and woodland chic.
Massive roots grow through the floor, their lengths worn smooth from frequent touching. The metal ground beneath us is covered in feathers, straw, pine needles, and leaves. It makes for a cushiony surface as I get onto my hands and knees to crawl further away from the edge. I don’t trust my sense of balance at the moment.
