Claimed By The Babymaker (Kyrzon Breeding Auction Book 2) Page 3
Around us, the camp has vanished, packed into carts and carriages and onto the backs of tusk-oxen. Gripping my wrist tightly enough to cause pain, Lurkka leads me to where Ragga is taking care of both their steeds.
“Ragga, you ride with Lily again,” Lurkka orders, taking the reins of his own tusk-ox. “We move now to do battle with Clan Drokal. You will hang back from the thick of the fighting and protect my new possession with your life.”
He looks at me with a cruel gleam in his eye, making it clear that I am the new possession he’s referring to. He seems to delight in reminding me that he owns me now.
Ragga nods at him. “Understood.”
In the distance, I see Chief Broga mount his steed and begin to ride. The other warriors follow him, forming a procession.
Ragga lifts me up onto his steed, impressing me once again with his strength, and we ride off.
Chapter Seven
Ragga says nothing to me as we ride together at the back of the Broga caravan. I still feel naked in my auction clothes, and having such close physical contact with him brings me a confusing array of feelings. I can feel the hard muscles of his chest pressed against my back, and see the bulging veins in his arms as he holds the reins.
Kyrzon or not, I can’t deny that this man is very attractive.
And my body can’t deny it, either. Despite my best intentions, my nipples are poking out hard, and I can feel a growing wetness between my legs.
Stop it, Lily! I think, mentally slapping myself in the face. This is not the time or the place to get turned on!
As lame as this sounds, this might actually be the most intimate physical contact I’ve ever had with a guy. I’ve never even held hands before. I may not exactly be holding hands with Ragga, but I am basically sitting in his lap, almost naked, with his big arms around me.
It sure feels intimate.
Or at least, my body thinks it is. After 20 years of zero sexual intimacy, it seems that my stupid hormones have decided that today, I’m finally getting lucky.
Well, tough luck, hormones. That will not be happening.
Suddenly, I notice something behind me.
Something big and firm. Pressing against my rear end.
Ragga is hard.
I guess I’m not the only one whose hormones have decided to be inconvenient today.
This realization immediately erases any hope of being able to tame my arousal. Whether I like it or not, all of my attention is now focused on Ragga, and the hard lump sticking into my behind.
I wiggle my butt against it. Just a little bit. Just a tiny bit of motion as we ride. I’m not really sure what I’m doing, all I know is that I find it exciting. Ragga inhales quietly.
Well. That was a reaction. I like to think I was being subtle enough that Ragga couldn’t tell I was rubbing against him on purpose, but he definitely noticed.
This is fun. I keep moving my hips, pressing my butt against him a little bit harder. I feel the bulge behind me grow even bigger and more insistent. Getting bolder, I continue to increase the intensity of what I’m doing. Ragga’s breathing quickens, and I see his muscles flex as his hands grow very tight on the reins.
It’s a little shocking to me how much I’m enjoying the power I feel over him. In every other aspect of my life right now, I have zero control. But right now, sharing a saddle with Ragga, I’m the one who’s responsible for his cock being hard. I’m the reason his breaths are starting to come in heavy, ragged gasps.
I lean back in the saddle, just for a moment. I want to feel my body pressed against his. He makes a noise under his breath that sounds very much like a groan.
Damn, that makes me feel sexy. It’s obvious that what I’m doing is having a significant effect on him. For the first time in my life, I’m really starting to take pleasure in my ability to be appealing to a man.
Too bad that man is an alien warrior in the employ of the savage war chief who just purchased me.
My journey of self-discovery grinding on Ragga is brought to an abrupt halt as a yelled message begins to echo down the procession of Clan Broga warriors: we are nearing Clan Drokal.
All the Kyrzons around me begin to draw their swords. Ragga places his hand on his own hilt, his other wrapping around my waist protectively.
It starts with the sounds of yells and clashing steel from the front of the procession. Our momentum slows, and a moment later, I can see fighting: our caravan has crashed into another, similarly-sized group of Kyrzons, and the enormous aliens are battling it out. I see blue-faced warriors from our clan dismounting and throwing themselves into the fray, yelling and hacking with their swords.
All the warriors around us charge forward, but Ragga hangs back. We’re in a clearing surrounded by forest, giving the tusk-oxen limited room to maneuver. Ragga rides around the edges of the battle, and I watch in horror and fascination as the Kyrzons viciously kill each other.
The Clan Drokal procession is spread out in a long line. I see warriors from the front charging to the back to join the battle. One of them runs in our direction and hurls a spear at us, and I feel the air rushing as it whizzes past my head.
That almost killed me.
Ragga roars and charges at the enemy soldier, cutting him down with a great slash of his weapon. Another Kyrzon with a big ax rushes to attack, but Ragga kills him too, galloping past him and clotheslining him with his sword.
I squeal in terror, cowering from the violence. Ragga rides our tusk-ox back, away from the battle, and we take a position nearby.
“Are you hurt?” he asks me gruffly.
“I— no,” I gasp.
We remain a safe distance away as the fight rages on. I watch through the trees, trying to keep track of how the battle is going, but I can’t tell who’s winning. I can barely even tell which Kyrzon is on which team.
Suddenly, I hear the sound of leaves rustling nearby. Someone must be approaching. Both Ragga and I turn sharply, and I see three Kyrzon warriors coming at us through the trees.
“Those are Clan Drokal soldiers,” Ragga whispers to me, jumping off of the tusk-ox and pulling me down. “Stay here.”
He draws his sword and charges out to meet them. I watch, amazed, as Ragga begins to fight off all three of them at once, his sword in one hand, a dagger in the other.
This whole situation is like my worst nightmare of what living the Kyrzon world would be like. It hasn’t even been a day since I’ve left Human Territory, and I’m already in the middle of a brutal war between clans.
I don’t want to live like this.
I watch as Ragga runs one of the enemy warriors through with his sword, and then roars as he attacks the other two. From behind him, two more warriors approach, both of them holding axes. Ragga sees them and backs himself up against a tree to avoid getting flanked.
Now, at this point in the story, it would be fair to criticize me for my poor decision-making. And I will fully admit that in this situation, I’m not exactly thinking clearly. In my defense, it’s been a hell of a day, and I’ve just been thrown into an insane fucking battle.
But everything about what’s happening all around me right now triggers my fight-or-flight instinct. Hard.
And when I’m a small, half-naked human woman, surrounded by gigantic, armored aliens with swords and axes and spears, that only leaves me with one option:
Flight.
As Ragga clashes swords with the warriors from Clan Drokal, I climb off the back of the tusk-ox and start full-on sprinting into the woods. I run and I run and I run, trying to put as much distance and as many turns between myself and the warring clans as possible. I don’t stop until the sounds of battle have faded completely into the distance, and the last of my energy is just about spent.
Finally, I allow myself to stop, panting for air, the stitch in my side aching. I’m completely out of breath, and my calves are covered in scratches from running through the thorny underbrush.
I look around me. All I see are trees. I have no idea how to
get back to New Sutter from here. I wouldn’t even be able to find myself back to the site of the battle if I wanted to.
I am completely alone in the unfamiliar wilderness on a planet where everything wants to kill me.
Great thinking, Lily.
Chapter Eight
I survey my surroundings, my panic mounting. I’m glad to be away from those awful fighting aliens, but now that I take stock of my situation, lost, alone, and defenseless, it’s hard not to feel like I just spent a whole bunch of effort only to make things worse for myself.
I don’t recognize any landmarks in the woods around me from when we were traveling earlier. Although, in fairness, everything just looks like trees, so really, I could probably have ridden past here five times and I’m still not sure I would recognize it.
The ideal thing would be to find a way back to Human Territory. It took me less than a day to travel here, so I know it can’t be that far away. But I have no idea at all what direction to go in. Like most humans, I’ve never even left Human Territory before. The whole outside world is a mystery to me.
There’s no point in staying put. My eyes scan the woods around me nervously, very aware of the risk of predators. I pick a direction and start walking.
The forest is thick and lush. Traveling is hard. The scratches on my legs are stinging, and stomping through the underbrush isn’t helping at all. The trees and bushes are different than the ones we have around New Sutter, and in other circumstances, I might take pleasure in examining them.
But there’s no pleasure to be found today. Just fear. As a lone human tripping and crashing her way through the forest, I know that I’m an easy target for any of the many dangerous animals these woods must contain.
In the distance, I hear an animal sound that I don’t recognize. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and I freeze, looking all around me for the source.
I see nothing. After a minute or two of standing in paralyzed silence, I continue to walk, even more wary than before.
Not too long later, I hear another sound. And this one isn’t an animal.
Voices.
Kyrzon voices.
The sound of large bodies moving through the trees.
I panic, looking around me frantically for somewhere to hide. I don’t see anything. The voices keep getting louder. In desperation, I turn to the tree next to me and do my best to climb up the trunk.
Never in my life have I been more frustrated by my lack of upper body strength than I am in this moment. I grunt as my arms strain, trying to pull myself up. Finally, I manage to get a good foothold, and I’m able to use it to climb up into the tree’s canopy.
I make it just in time. From my perch in the tree’s branches, I watch as a group of several Kyrzon warriors walks below me. I can tell by their blue faces that they are from Clan Broga. It must be a search party.
Searching for me.
I try to make out individuals. The one in front is Lurkka, that’s obvious. Hard to miss that scraggly beard. My stomach lurches just slightly as I see that Ragga is also among the group. I’m surprised to note that I feel a sense of relief upon seeing he has emerged from the battle unharmed.
Below me, I can hear them talking:
“She can’t have covered that much distance!” Lurkka growls to his companions, sounding disgusted. “Keep looking. I paid 35,000 power units for her. No fucking way am I losing her in these woods.”
“I don’t know how she could have gone very far with those short little legs,” one of the other Kyrzons chuckles.
“Maybe we should split up,” suggests Ragga. “We could cover more ground that way.”
Lurkka stops walking, and the other warriors do the same. He turns to Ragga. “I think not,” he says. “Actually, Ragga, it is my decision that you alone will remain here and search for her. It is you alone who lost her, after all. The rest of us will return to the procession and travel back to our territory with Chief Broga.”
I can see on Ragga’s face that he isn’t happy about this, but he nods his head. “Understood.”
Lurkka and the rest of the Kyrzons turn around in the direction they just came from. As they begin to walk away, Lurkka turns, and fixes Ragga with a threatening glare.
“Find her,” he orders simply. “Find her.”
I watch from the tree, holding perfectly still, my lips tightly closed to avoid making a sound.
* * *
I stay in the tree long after Ragga has wandered off to search for me. Nowhere else feels safe. At least here, I’m safe from the predators on the ground. Not to mention, Ragga is unlikely to look for me in a place he’s already been.
Soon, it gets dark, and the sounds of the forest grow far more ominous. I hear a tusk-bear roar in the distance, along with other sounds of animals I don’t recognize.
Yeah, I think I’m just going to stay in my tree tonight.
I do my best to get comfortable, and am ultimately able to find a position where my weight is supported, allowing me to relax a little bit.
A little bit.
These woods are still terrifying and dangerous.
After an hour or two where no alien creature has come to eat me, I begin to let my guard down, and it isn’t long before my eyes start to close.
After the events of the day, I’m exhausted.
I do need to sleep. Humans need sleep, right? It’s not like I can just stay awake all night. I make a pillow with my arms and allow myself to rest.
It’s far from the comfort of my bed in New Sutter, but at least I’m safe. Within minutes, I’m fast asleep.
Chapter Nine
I wake up with a jolt, feeling very confused.
Where the fuck am I?
Instinctively, I try to roll over in bed, and then practically tumble out of the tree, only catching myself at the last minute on a branch.
Tree. Right. I’m in a tree.
I’m still slightly groggy as I take stock of my situation: I’m clinging to a tree branch, wearing nothing but a thin, skimpy bodysuit, in the middle of the Kyrzon wilderness.
Not one of my coolest moments.
I flash through my memories of the day and night before: Lurkka purchasing me. Traveling with Clan Broga. The battle with Clan Drokal.
My escape.
That really was stupid of me. No matter how much I might hate the idea of being Lurkka’s property, it’s hard to make a case that I’m better off now than I was then. At least traveling with the Kyrzons, I was safe from tusk-bears and raptors.
Now I feel like I’m more likely to be eaten than anything.
Still, there’s no use staying up in the tree. My mouth is dry with thirst. At a certain point, water is going to become my most pressing need.
That, and a good shower.
I climb down from the tree carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises. When I reach the ground, I find myself in the same situation as I was in yesterday: I need to walk somewhere, but I have no idea which direction to choose.
I pick a direction more or less at random and start to walk. I find myself going slightly downhill, and the underbrush begins to thin.
Wait a second. What is that sound?
I stop, listening. I definitely hear something. A sort of white noise, underneath all the rustling and chirping of the forest.
Yup. That’s definitely what I think it is.
Running water.
My thirst spurring me on more than anything, I start picking my way through the forest as fast as I can in the direction of the noise. It gets louder, and a minute later I can see what looks like a body of water in the distance. As I get closer, I’m amazed by the view that confronts me: a wide, deep stream in the middle of the forest, its water flowing lazily, stunningly clear.
This is beautiful. Like something out of an Earth movie.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen in Human Territory.
I jog to the edge of the stream and bend down, scooping the cool water into my hands and drinking my fill.
I give my face a splash, trying to wash off the oil and dirt caked onto it. It’s tremendously refreshing. I sure wish I could get in and bathe.
Huh. That’s an idea.
But I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.
I glance around me. Nothing but the alien forest looks back. I listen intently, but all I can hear is the babbling stream.
It seems like I’m all alone.
Briefly, I consider getting into the water wearing my bodysuit, but I quickly decide against it. This pathetically inadequate piece of fabric is the only thing I have to wear, and I don’t want it getting wet. With another nervous glance around me, I peel the bodysuit off and hang it on a branch from a nearby tree.
I’ve never been naked outside before. In Human Territory, everything is developed and fairly densely populated, so there’s nowhere to find privacy like this. The experience makes me feel vulnerable, but also, slightly elated. There’s something about it that feels naughty and thrilling.
I wade into the stream. It’s cold and refreshing on my skin. I sigh as the water gets deeper and I begin to swim. I’ve never experienced anything like this.
New Sutter’s town center is what we call the Ship, the remnants of the space vessel that our ancestors crash-landed on this planet hundreds of years ago. The Ship has a recreation deck, complete with a small swimming pool, and I remember having swimming lessons there as a child.
But swimming outside is something different altogether. I can feel the gentle motion of the current flowing over me, and feel soft sand and smooth rocks underneath my feet. Around me, trees rustle in the breeze, and the Kyrzon sun beats down on me, so much nicer than the artificial lighting on the Ship.
This is actually kind of wonderful.
I dip my head under the water, running my fingers through my hair, and then begin to clean myself, rubbing the dirt off my body as best I can. A few minutes later, I feel sparkling clean and incredibly refreshed.
What a difference a bath can make.