Lan’ara blinked. Well, at least that explained why her breasts got so full and achy and nectar leaked from them when Need touched her. But what about the emptiness inside her? The hungry flower clamoring to be filled?
She tapped the screen again and new information appeared, flowing in elegant script across the liquid crystal.
Please note that your Twyleth Tigg bride will develop “The Thirst” which will require her to suck your shaft and drink your seed often. If you wish to punish her, you can withhold it, but as a general rule, you should allow her to drink from you at least once a week, lest she become deficient.
Deficient? Deficient in what? Lan’ara shook her head and kept reading.
The Thirst for your seed and the Touch Cravings which drive her to seek your hands on her body are not the only needs your bride will develop, the script read. Your new bride will also crave your shaft inside her. She will feel an emptiness which must be filled and you alone can fill her! Because, once the initial bond is formed, the touch of another male will sicken her completely.
That’s right—you need never worry about your Twyleth Tigg bride cheating on you because the touch of another male’s hand upon her skin will trigger an attack of nausea so strong, she will eject the contents of her stomach upon him the moment he attempts to violate her. Rest assured, that your Twyleth Tigg bride is only for YOU and you alone.
Lan’ara stared at the screen as comprehension washed over her. She remembered how horribly nauseous she’d felt with the “customer” who had attempted to have sex with her at Mistress Bigaboo’s establishment. No wonder his very touch had made her sick to her stomach! It was because he wasn’t Need and Need was the male she was bonded to.
But how deep was the bond? How permanent? Was it imperfect because the big Kindred had yet to take her sexually—had yet to put his shaft inside her and make love to her? Would that tie them together forever?
Gods and Goddesses, how she wished it would! How she wished he would claim her completely and make her his forever! He—
Her thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of the ship’s main entrance crashing open and heavy footsteps that shook the floor.
“Well that was no good, no it wasn’t,” a deep, grating voice complained. “A brothel shouldn’t be allowed to say they cater to Trollox and then not have any free girlies to ride a male’s shaft, no they shouldn’t!”
Oh, no! The delicate liquid crystal screen slipped from Lan’ara’s numb fingers and landed on the floor. By great bad luck, it landed on the one place with no dirty clothes or crusty blankets to cushion is fall. There was a cracking sound as one corner connected with the bare metal floor—the Trollox’s room being the one place on board the ship where greenery absolutely wouldn’t grow.
But she had more urgent concerns than the file. What would she do if Drung caught her in his room? What if he tried to force one of those horrible spreaders inside her—or worse, his own shaft?
Feeling almost sick with terror, she flattened herself to one side of the door and listened hard. Where could she hide if he came in? Under the bed? But it was so low she would barely fit. And if Drung decided to sit or lie down on it, his bulk might crush her right through the sagging mattress.
No, she couldn’t hide, she decided. She had to make a run for it—but how could she get past him in the narrow metal ship’s corridor without the huge Trollox catching her?
Then she heard another voice.
“Back so soon?” Psoas asked. “Thought you told us not to wait up for you.”
“The brothel lied, so it did,” Drung’s deep, grating voice replied. “They said they had girlies that were only for Trollox males but the only ones free were Trollox females!”
“What’s wrong with that?” Psoas asked. “I would think you’d want to be with your own kind.”
“Nah—Trollox females got loose pussies,” Drung complained. “I likes ‘em tight, so I do. That’s why humanoid females are best to fuck—and to carry heirs.”
“What would you do with an heir if you got one, though?” Psoas asked conversationally. “I mean—how would you raise a baby on a smuggler’s ship?”
At this point, Lan’ara dared to stick her head out around the door and saw that the Trollox’s back was to her and all three of his ugly heads were focused on the engineer. If she made a break for it now, she ought to be able to get back to the alcove where the sonic shower was located.
Silently blessing Psoas and his willingness to engage Drung in conversation, she closed the door to the Trollox’s room as softly as she could and slipped back down the corridor, bent almost double to avoid detection.