this was too easy. Even though I paid the bounty hunter to “capture” me instead of another, I knew Kim would be surprised. I just didn’t realize she loathed me. Is my courting so offensive? My form? I glance down at my body. I wear a dark, form-fitting tunic and trou, my clothing standard so I can blend with the assortment of agricultural-enthusiast aliens on Risda III. My tail is freshly brushed and my fur is still as thick and dark as it ever was.
It must be me that is the problem. My personality. I am not as kind as she wants.
I twitch in the chair, the scent of pollen making my body ache everywhere, but especially in the groin. I am…very disappointed at her reaction. I didn’t think she would climb onto my lap and fling herself into my arms with joy, but I also didn’t expect this. I flex my hands in the cuffs. I could rip them free of the chair, crush the object with an easy movement, and head back to my own farm a few leagues away. Forget all of this.
Sleep off the pollen and forget Kim.
I don’t, though. I stay in the uncomfortable chair, silently wishing for her to return, to come and talk to me. To tell me what she is thinking.
She doesn’t, though, and I am left alone, staring at her small, cozy house. I let my imagination run wild. I would bend her over that counter and claim her from behind, my teeth digging into her shoulder. I would seat her atop this table and lick her cunt until she screams. I would press her up against that window and let the world around us see that she is my mate. My thoughts grow filthier and filthier as the smell of pollen hangs in the air, so thick and sultry and I can practically taste Kim’s scent, even across the house, and it makes me harder than ever.
When her bedroom door opens, I think that she is a dream at first. Her hair is free of the two knots that mimic ears, and hangs loose around her shoulders. She wears a flimsy robe that she clutches to her chest…and carries a large knife as she approaches.
A knife.
That is new bedsport to me, but in Kim’s arms I will welcome it. I purr a greeting at her. “Have you come to touch me?”
“No!” she hisses. “What is wrong with you?”
Nothing at all. I smile at her, my hips bucking. I am dying to have her touch me, to move close enough so I can grind against her. The world around me is a pollen-induced haze of lust. “Then what is the knife for?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
I laugh. “No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, I am!”
I laugh again, because she doesn’t sound confident at all. “No female that stared at my cock for that long is interested in killing me.”
Kim makes an outraged sound. “I did not stare!”
“You did,” I reassure her. “It is all right. I liked it. You can touch it, if you want.” My purring grows louder. “I’d like it if you touched it.”
“I’d like it if you’d shut up,” she snaps at me, waving the knife in my face. “I mean it. I’m going to kill you. I can’t let you go and tell everyone what happened here.”
I lean my head back, exposing my throat and inviting her to cut…or perhaps scratch my chin. I do love a good chin scratch. Even that thought fills me with erotic glee.
She puts the knife to my throat, her hands trembling.
I groan, utterly aroused.
Kim backs away again and retreats to her rooms. “We’ll do this in the morning!”
I doubt that we will, but morning is fine. I will be just as hungry for her touch then as I am now. Maybe even more so, if I sit here and breathe pollen all night. “Then you will touch my cock in the morning?” I ask hopefully.
She makes a growling sound in her throat and stops her retreat. She paces back to my side, moving so close that her scent blooms around me. Her expression is one of pure disgust, though. A hate-kef? Does she want a hate-kef?
I will take any kind of kef. I will make her like it so much that she will come begging for another round. I know I can win her…I just need to touch her.
“Why do you think I’m going to touch you at all?” She shakes her head, squinting