Page 17 of The First Omega Made
“I understand.” I nodded once and winced as the collar whined and wound down, going silent.
“Good. Help us raid the base and we’ll take you home or wherever you want. I know a group of humans that would die to have you.” The way he grinned made me tense.
“I wish to go to Paradise.” I stared him down and waited for his response.
“We don’t know where it is. And we’ve not seen another Naleucian that wasn’t a hybreed or Noel in hundreds of solar rotations. It’s like they disappeared.”
“I know how to get there. It is hidden.” I swallowed hard, a nervous reflex. My mission counted on getting there.
“Then we hawk this load and go.” He sneered at me and turned, gesturing for me to follow.
No pure-born Naleucian would accept them—but that wouldn’t matter. They wouldn’t accept me, either.
I merely needed numbers on my side.
Chapter Eight
Doc
Four doses.
I’d never had more than one.
Every time, it hurt, even before Noel. This time, it hurt worse.
Sarge sat at my side as my mind flowed through consciousness and sleep.
Noel came by a few times. I thought. Food and water happened, trips to the bathroom. Sarge was amazing about it.
Bathing. I needed so many baths.
I woke in a haze at one point, half slumped in the shower as Sarge scrubbed at my body.
“Did I s—soil myself?” Shame burned my cheeks as I registered his wet clothes. Even in dire straits, he wouldn’t let me see the extent of his deterioration.
“Not at all, cutie.” He kissed me openly, the faint sweet smell under his breath a comfort.
“Why?” I couldn’t get my legs beneath me, and when I reached around my body—everything felt wrong—strange.
“Skin coming off. Scales beneath.” Whatever he scrubbed me with brushed against my raw skin, rough and satisfying. A shiver went down my spine, to my ass and even farther down, like… The shiver went all the way into my short, stunted tail. I reached for it behind me and whimpered at the pain of movement.
“Shhh, back to sleep.” Sarge’s soothing voice made me drift off. The warmth made it so easy as I drifted off, desperately trying to ignore the raw chicken-like sheets of flesh laying on the textured pan of my shower. “Shhh.”
If I changed—maybe Sarge would, too. If I changed, I could survive. I could defend him.
If he could protect me, first.
Sarge
Humans liked sheets, so at one point, I used to buy new sheets on every excursion, collecting quite a cabinet of them until Doc said something. One of the many things that gave me away.
“Who needs this many sheets? I do, apparently,” I said, smiling to myself as I rubbed a salve over Doc’s raw flesh and cocooned him in linen. The clean fabric against him, gentle pressure and salve made it more akin to something I’d find comfortable. Not the Sarge version of myself but themethat lay inside. Wrapped in the warmth, pumping blood through my body as I absorbed the sensations of the world around me, made me happy. I truly enjoyed being human.
Revulon males had so much eyesight, heightened senses, and great strength. Many other species had their advantages, but humans? They had orgasms. Muted senses gave way to a myriad of pleasure-seeking stimuli. Even with my cock withered and unresponsive—though we’d joked it’d fallen off—I still felt pleasure. The warmth of Doc’s touch, the tickle of his breath, and even the sound of his voice gave me this delicious chemical pumped through my host’s blood.
Ahhh, dopamine.My host may not have been able to feed me sensations of taste much anymore, butIcould taste the high I got from pleasure. It made me drunk and woozy.
As I left Doc to lie amid the sheets, his body curled in a fetal position, I took a shower.
