Page 40 of Invasive Species
“It’s not real,” I mutter, but it… it feels real enough. Even though that's not how science works.
“New hypothesis: I'm only reacting like this because… I've been programmed to.” That sends a sliver of sadness through my hearts, but I bare myself to the harsh truth. What if I'm gravitating toward her only because I've tripped certain prerequisites in my genetic code?
When confronted with a new problem, I need to do what I do best. Triage. Test. Trial.
And first, I need to understand what human females expect.
I run the quick program I made through Arra-bellah’s e-reader to get it to display symbols I can recognize. Now the whole wealth of human knowledge is at my fingertips, and I type into the request space, “What do human females want?”
It returns reams of titles:How to play the game and make her love you; Win her heart; Get Good and Make it Good; Get the girl you want.
As I flick through, my stomach sinks. I can't make money here, and I don't have possessions to show off as they recommend. I can't give a woman anything except my body.
Disappointment sends my mood crash landing back to Earth. She won’t want me. If she did, she’d have made it clear by now.
If it wasn’t Arra-bellah’s I’d toss the e-reader aside, but something stops me. This is a rare opportunity to have unfettered access to any type of learning, unfiltered by the females managing the Selthiastock programs. And perhaps there is a way to make Arra-bellah want me.
I type, “How to pleasure females.”
Oh, this is much better. Books with esoteric embracing couples whizz past my fingers. There's a vast treasure trove of techniques and tips that must number in the thousands. I bless each of these authors to the All Mother and try to figure out which one to devour first.
At the bottom of the page is another display,calledSimilar to books you've read before.Me? My hearts judder. It must be Arra-bellah’s reading history this thing is analyzing. My finger hesitates only briefly before I scroll through Ara’s personal library, a secret window to her thoughts.
My Alien and Me.
Big Alien on the Prairie.
Forbidden Flames on Fireoga.
Perhaps this planet does have knowledge of other cultures outside their solar system. Are these historical accounts?
Planet of the Pirate Prince: Claimed and Tamed.Claimed. The ultimate dream of a True Born is to be claimed as a mate one day, but I'm no True Born. A bitter smile twists my lips.
Still, there’s no harm in a thought experiment. What would I do if I were claimed by one person, and one person only? Arra-bellah’s wild laughter races through my veins, setting them alight. Her hair unfurling in the wind, wild. Free.
As I long to be.
I press download and I'm presented with a bright male torso bursting with muscle, his color the electric green of a moss fruit crossed with neon. I poke my own midsection. Yes, I have a form like that, and clearly it’s amenable to Arra-bellah's tastes.
I read the page presented to me:
The captive is broughtbefore the captain. He eyes her up and down, eyes lingering on her full breasts heaving against the fabric of her Obaya robes as she breathes.
I writenotes in my personal pad.Robes.Arra-bellah might like to wear robes, and indeed she wore a thick scratchy fabric when she interrupted my punishment. My heartbeats quicken. The females on our planet wear robes, and my imaginationpresents me a stark image of Arra-bellah in white sheer fabric, her hair a riot of red like the setting sun, her breasts hanging free.
The captain stretcheshis legs out, thrusting his hips a little before he settles back to lounging in his throne. His pants are tight showing every outline of his thick thigh muscles and growing, stiffening cock.
What,only one cock? I look down at my own pants, which are skintight but perhaps not tight enough if they’re supposed to show every dip and shadow of my muscles as well as betray my growing arousal. My members harden even as the idea of constantly being exposed like that spools within me. I wouldn't like it. Would I?
The robes are partedby the guards, and she is bare before him. He reaches out languidly and skims the top of his smooth fingers over her puckering nipples.
I sit up.This is it, the good stuff. I have my pad open beside me ready to take notes.
“Leave us,”the captain says, and his guards turn to obey. As soon as they shut the door, the captain falls to his knees, gathering his captive up in his arms.
“Are you alright? I had no idea that was your skiff.”
“I'm fine,” the captive says. “Do your guards always strip prizes beforeyou?”
