Alien Games (14 page)

When the unity of pulse and breathing had been achieved,
Jenna discovered that other things were synchronizing also. She became aware of
Ghanjihi’s mood, and of the deeper rhythms of his body and his soul. The
heightened awareness continued, and for Jenna it was as if, with each passing
moment, she and Ghanjihi were becoming a unity—a synthesis of a sort.

At some stage during this (Jenna could never be certain
when) the mental and emotional unity was complemented by physical unity. She
did not realize—although the watching Reven did—that she had levitated some
twenty inches towards Ghanjihi until she was locked to him in a complex
embrace.

She had floated through the air until they were chest to
chest. Then she had settled slowly to allow his erect sex to meet hers and very
gently, with no force or pressure, they had coupled. His legs remained in the
lotus position, cushioning her body delicately. Her legs wrapped gracefully
around his torso, the soles of her feet pressed together with the toes pointing
impossibly upwards, like hands pressed flat in prayer. There they rested,
parallel with his spine. Their faces touched gently, forehead to forehead and
nose to nose, until their synchronized breaths mingled—in through the nose, out
through the mouth. Jenna’s left arm threaded the space between Ghanjihi’s two
right arms to wrap around his back, where her hand clasped her feet. Her right
elbow came to rest on his upper shoulder, with the palm of her hand cupping the
back of his head. Ghanjihi positioned his upper arms so that his right arm ran
along the top of Jenna’s left, with his forearm and hand angling downwards to
lie flat against her spine, while his left cupped the back of her head. His
lower arms fell naturally, those hands clasping Jenna’s waist.

In that way they sat, motionless, for a very long time, an
absolute, unmoving hub, around which the universe revolved and swayed.

Jenna would never look back on the experience as sex. It was
healing, of a profound sort that she had never imagined possible. The pain of
her past, those hidden injuries that had turned her into a driven woman were
dealt with. The loss of her mother, the break with her father, the grief for
the little sister denied to her, the years when she had punished herself for
her sense of failure by driving herself to win, rejecting all approaches of
friendship by Bruce and others. Such things were faced, understood, and placed
gently aside for later analysis and greater understanding. Then the present was
attended to—the fear of death, the yearning for Bruce, the sense of shame at
her participation in the Reven games. Jenna began to perceive herself as
Ghanjihi perceived her, and to understand herself as he did. Through his senses
she discovered a Jenna Walsh who was strong, clever, empathetic, and sensual,
with an almost inexhaustible capacity to love and be loved. She realized that
she was unique, and for that reason she mattered. Within her was an inner core
of integrity that no amount of Reven manipulation could compromise. The
consummation that she so desired with Bruce, it didn’t have to be sexual. If
sex occurred, that was a bonus. The essential thing, which no amount of Reven
interference could prevent, was that the two of them strove towards a depth of
intimacy and sharing of the sort she was experiencing now.

At some stage the nature of the contact between Jenna and
Ghanjihi changed yet again. Their breathing and pulse accelerated, a welling
tide of desire filled them, and they climaxed in unison. It was an experience
which, for Jenna, felt like a great gift and a great blessing.

When finally, reluctantly, her union with this wonderful
alien ended, it was with a sense of loss and awe, but also with a feeling of
wellness and peace, that she looked once again into the deep pools of his eyes.

“You will be better now Jenna Walsh. Everything you need is
inside you, all you need do is learn to tap into it.”

“Thank you Ghanjihi. I don’t understand how you did what you
did, but you have changed me.”

“No. You are not changed. What I did was reveal to you your
inner resources. You now have a better sense of your own worth and powers. Let
us leave this Reven place and go to be with our friends. You and Bruce have
much to share I think.”

* * * * *

“Perfect Psi276. The Vedi has restored her to balance, just
as I predicted. We can now complete the program on time and on-schedule. In
less than six rotations we will arrive at the Homeworld. With the data we have
gathered, and the Terrans as specimens, I think we can expect a heroes’
welcome.”

“I congratulate you Alpha19, again you were correct. Let us
make haste with the final experiments. Do you wish to put the Terran female in
with the male Trrivv and the female Vedi tomorrow as planned?”

“No, let us give her one day off to fully recuperate. The
council still needs us to test the Terran male for creativity, strength and
adaptability. That can happen tomorrow instead. Prepare the laboratory with the
expectation that the planned permutation of subjects will lead to some wild and
energetic coupling.”

“As you command.”

Chapter Twelve: Three’s Company

When Bruce awoke, it was to find a very different Jenna
sitting, cross-legged on the end of the bed watching him as he slept. She
looked great, her skin glowed with health, her cheeks were dimpled by a grin
that showed her perfect gleaming teeth, and a lively sparkle in her eye
complimented her smile.

“My God you look fantastic. How are you feeling?”

In reply, she leaned forward and kissed him cheerfully and
passionately. But when they broke apart, she responded to his question
seriously.

“I’m sorry about the last few days. I’ve been so caught up
in what I haven’t been able to control, and what I’ve been denied, that I
neglected to be grateful for what I have. That is, you might say, the story of
my life.”

“So things went well with Ghanjihi?”

“More than well, he is amazing. At the risk of sounding very
corny, my time with him was a profound healing. I’ve come out of it with a lot
of things straight in my mind—and one of the key things is that I can now
acknowledge how deeply, passionately and unreservedly I love you. And I also
realized that I don’t need to be able to fuck you to revel in that. Although,”
she added lewdly, as an afterthought, “I’m not going to pass up an opportunity
to bang your brains out if one presents itself.”

She giggled and leaned forward to kiss him once again. Bruce
responded enthusiastically, delighted by the change.

“So what did he do?”

“I really don’t know, but I think it had something to do
with what they call the “Tantra”. Sex is a religion for the Vedi, and he seems
to be one of their high priests.”

“More than that. Ranisha was explaining to me. He is THE Premlord.
It’s a really big deal apparently, he’s the ruler of the planet, and the fact
that the Reven have captured him is a major defeat. Even with a top-of-the-line
controller chip inserted he’s still pretty powerful. The Reven can only just
contain him. When he followed you yesterday, he wasn’t even in a trance. He
just walked out quite casually.”

“Yes, I had a sense that he had tremendous power.”

“He and Ranisha both. You should have seen her eyes blaze
when she talked about punishing the traitors that had betrayed Ghanjihi.
There’s some Seclord that she plans to see sitting on a large spike if she ever
gets the chance.”

“Well, I’m pleased they’re on our side. I’m hoping they’ll
teach me about their Tantra, I’d really like to know how to tap into some of the
places within me that Ghanjihi revealed.”

“Then count me in too. It sounds like something we should be
doing together.”

Hand in hand they went out to eat and chat with the others.
Jenna’s good mood was infectious. For the first time since their capture, all
eight were pleased to be together, and to talk and laugh.

Shortly after breakfast, however, the Reven summoned the
subjects of the day’s experiment. Never before had Jenna been left to sit and
watch. She got a shock when Bruce’s eyes suddenly glazed over and he stood up
in mid-sentence and left her. She felt a familiar hollowness in the pit of her
stomach when Mmerr and Zhorta followed like zombies in his wake. Being left
like this was bad enough, the remarks of some of the others made things much worse.

Fritti was, as usual, the first to comment.

“Screesh!” he spat in frustration. “Another day of no
release, while Earth boy gets jumped by the weird sisters.”

“I hope he is feeling energetic,” rumbled an amused Mort.
“Zhorta is likely to bounce him off the wall, and Mmerr will be waiting to
pounce on him when he hits the floor.”

* * * * *

It was Bruce’s bad luck that he was the last one to come out
of the Reven trance. As Fritti had so accurately predicted, he was being
jumped. Not that he realized this at first. It is very disorientating to find
something warm and moist pressing on your face, obscuring your vision and
making it difficult to breathe, while, at the same time, something else warm
and moist is sucking vigorously on your cock
and
your balls.

With a violent heave, Bruce pushed the suffocating weight
off his face and gasped desperately. He was in a large space, like a small
gymnasium with a high ceiling. The floor was padded, there were things to climb
on, unusual bits of equipment scattered here and there, and quite a few ropes
hanging around.

But Bruce only noticed his surroundings in passing. With air
now rushing into his lungs, he was more concerned by what was happening down at
groin level. Zhorta was sucking him—all of him! Her entire mouth was wrapped
around his manly cluster, and he wasn’t sure that he liked it. But two things
restrained him from protesting more vigorously. The first was his memory of
Zhorta telling Mort that she’d like to hang him from the roof by his balls—and
a woman of Zhorta’s dimensions and proclivities seemed equally capable of
hanging him from her mouth by his own balls—and the second thing was that a
disgruntled Mmerr was trying to sit back on his face.

“What is the matter, Bruce,” she purred. “Don’t they do this
where you come from?”

“They do, but where I come from it’s considered polite to
wait until the person is conscious so that you can ascertain whether that
person would
like
to have his face sat on. The same goes for fellatio,”
he remarked pointedly to Zhorta, who looked up at him with raised eyebrows,
then gave an even harder suck.

“Nnnngghh!” he cried through clenched teeth. “Do you think
you might both leave me alone for a second while I work out what is going on?”

Reluctantly Zhorta opened her mouth, allowing Bruce’s
soundly sucked member to flop out of it like a small, red, stranded fish.

“Is it all right?” she asked with evident concern. “It
doesn’t look like the same chubby little fellow that Ranisha milked a few days
ago.”

“You’re right,” agreed Mmerr. “In fact it looks quite sick.”

She joined Zhorta in kneeling over Bruce and peering closely
at his groin.

Bruce was stung to the quick, and leapt to the defense of
his manhood.

“Fair’s fair, you’re not seeing it at its best. It needs a
little time to get used to things. It’s not accustomed to being pounced on
while its owner is in a state of unconsciousness. It acquits itself much better
after some stimulation!”

“Stimulation!” enthused Zhorta, “Now there’s something I’m
good at. We Gorts love stimulation. You stand up and bend over, I saw a lovely
cane by the wall over there.”

“No! No!” corrected Bruce hastily. “That’s not the type of
stimulation I was thinking off. Don’t either of you understand subtlety?”

He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, and he immediately regretted
the fact that he’d so obviously hurt their feelings. While Zhorta’s face fell
in disappointment, Mmerr’s wounded pride sent her on the offensive.

“Where I come from, lifting your tail is all the stimulation
a real man needs!” the cat-woman retorted.

This time it was Bruce’s masculine pride that was stung.

“Well where I come from, real men don’t have tails!” he
replied hotly.

“No. And they have pretty sad pricks too by the look of it!”
retorted the pissed-off Mmerr.

“That’s enough! I won’t stand here and be abused by a pair
of extraterrestrial nymphomaniacs,” Bruce shouted. “Where the hell is the
door?”

* * * * *

“This experiment does not appear to be going according to
plan Alpha19. I had expected them to be a lot more enthusiastic. Instead, each
subject is growing increasingly agitated and now the Terran is trying to leave.
Shall I stop him?”

“Wait for a moment 276, things may well improve. The females
are desperate and that may bring the male around. I doubt that they will allow
him to leave, and it is better for this particular experiment not to activate
the controller chips if it can be avoided.”

* * * * *

What the angry Bruce didn’t appreciate was just how quickly
the situation was spiraling out of control. Neither Mmerr nor Zhorta was
accustomed to rejection. In their own warrior cultures each of the alien women
was high born and used to commanding respect. Not only that, each epitomized
beauty and desirability on her planet, much as Jenna did on Earth. For this
kidnapping expedition the Reven had been very careful to select prime physical
specimens from among all four humanoid species.

So the thought that Bruce might spurn them, particularly
when they had so looked forward to having him as a lover, was more than Mmerr
and Zhorta could bear. If anyone learned of this they would be humiliated. Both
were becoming increasingly frantic and had reached the point where they’d go to
almost any lengths to save face.

“Not so fast, Earth-boy-toy,” shouted Zhorta, who was now as
angry as Mmerr. “I haven’t had a man for over a week and I’m not passing up the
chance for one more fuck before the Reven fry my brain!”

“Me neither,” snarled Mmerr. “So either give it up, or we’re
taking it!”

“What? You’re threatening to force me? I’m not that easy and
I’m not that desperate. You wanna fuck, go fuck each other!”

“You betcha!” roared the thoroughly enraged Zhorta. “But
it’s you we’re going to use to fuck each other with!”

An enraged female Gort is an alarming sight. Zhorta towered
to her full seven foot, her huge breasts pumping angrily. As she advanced on
Bruce he felt like the little hobbit cowering before the giant cave troll in
the
Lord of the Rings
, the last movie he’d seen before he was abducted.
At this moment, he decided, facing an army of goblins in Tolkein’s Mines of
Moria seemed much the preferable option.

At Zhorta’s side Mmerr, who was equally enraged, advanced
also, her hands curled into claws, and her tail twitching.

* * * * *

“The Terran is in strife. The females clearly mean to
inflict harm on him. Shall I stop them?”

“No 276! Wait for my command.”

* * * * *

Bruce had finally realized just how much trouble he’d
created for himself. His eyes darted around the room, looking for a place to
run, or hide, or at least make a valiant last stand.

In a flash he turned. But Mmerr was quicker. Her tail snaked
out like lightening and fastened around his ankle. What was to have been a
headlong dash to freedom, turned into a headlong crash onto his face.

With a huge leap, Zhorta landed on his back, expelling all
the air from his lungs.

“Careful. Don’t crush him,” warned Mmerr. She knelt down to
look the gasping Bruce in the eye. “We want him functioning for a little
longer, then you can sit on him for as long as you like.”

Zhorta got off Bruce, and lifted him to his feet.

“I thought he’d be a bit stronger than that. He’s not up to
much is he?”

“So what do we do with him now?”

“Well if he was Mort, I’d give him a little ride on the
wooden horse to calm him down.”

“What’s the wooden horse?”

“That long beam over there. We tie weights around his
ankles, straddle him over it, and drop him onto it from about three feet up.
It’s not too bad, Mort says his balls always cushion the fall.”

Bruce began to panic.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” demurred Mmerr.
“Remember what happened when his little bag got yanked by my tail. He collapsed
in a heap.”

“True. There must be some other way we can get some
satisfaction out of him though. Let’s tie him to this chair while we think
about it.”

Zhorta fastened Bruce to a chair, quickly and deftly. He
couldn’t move a muscle. Then the pair of female aliens sat down and began
discussing him as if he weren’t there.

“We’ve got to do something,” began Mmerr. “I’ve never let a
man treat me like this and I’m not about to start now. And don’t forget that
this may be the last man we have before the Reven decide they’ve had enough of
us.”

“I already said that, but you and I both know how difficult
it is to get a man to perform when he’s not interested.”

“Stupid isn’t it. They never have that problem if we’re not
interested. They’re badly designed, really, aren’t they? They need a pump or
something, so they can inflate on demand.”

“He’s a bit tense, isn’t he,” remarked Zhorta. “We could
always loosen him up a little.”

“How?”

“Well, there’s another little game Mort and I often play
called slingshot. He could probably handle it without sustaining too much
damage. And he might feel a lot more compliant afterwards. Mort always is.”

“How does it work?”

Zhorta began pointing to an array of the weird devices that
dotted the room.

“We attach a couple of ropes to those spring winches in each
corner, we thread them through some of those pulleys in the ceiling, then we
put one loop around the Terran’s arms and another round his legs. Then, on the
count of three, we simultaneously release the springs on the winches and the
ropes whip him up into the air until his body acts as a natural brake.”

“Still sounds a bit risky.”

“No, I don’t think so. The worst Mort ever had was a
dislocated shoulder.”

Bruce had heard enough to get seriously worried.

“Look ladies, I think we got off to a bad start. I’m sorry
if I offended you. We don’t want to do anything hasty. After all, we are all
friends aren’t we? And you must admit that Mort is a fair bit larger than I am.
If it dislocates his shoulder, it’s likely to rip my arm out of its socket.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be all right. Mort says he likes it.”

“From what I’ve heard, Mort’s a raging masochist,” replied
Bruce acerbically. “With his pain fetish, he’s not my ideal recommendation, to
be honest.”

“No need to get hoity. My Mort’s a very passionate Gort. If
it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for you.”

Zhorta closed the debate by stalking off with an injured
air. While the other’s watched she began attaching ropes to machines, threading
them through pulleys, and tying loops in them. It didn’t take long for her to
have rigged up what looked like a trap to catch a large animal. She returned to
Bruce and Mmerr looking very pleased with herself.