Page 14 of A Treat For Her Mates

I look at H’Aart. Are our translation chips working correctly? Toys are not something we would use to, well, train for the ritual. He pats me on the arm. He’s telling me to be patient, to try to understand.

“Yeah, toys. Oh shit. Do they not have sex toys where you’re from?” Her eyes widen in surprise.

Before I can ask another question. H’Aart speaks up.

“I believe she means sacred objects.”

“Why did she call them toys? They serve a sacred purpose.”

“The translation chip isn’t perfect. I think this is a cultural difference.” H’Art explains.

It makes sense. I feel foolish for misunderstanding, but I could not comprehend why Miranda a would shove a toy up her—

“They call them sex toys here. They’re very different from other kinds of toys.”

“I see. And you use these toys to train for the ritual?” I ask, still a little disturbed by the word.

“I guess I do. Ever since Fancy ran off with her Maldivians, or whatever, I wanted to be ready. You know, in case two guys came for me.”

This makes H’Aart smile.

“She’ll fit in perfectly at home,” he whispers under his breath in our home language.

I nod back at him. Maybe there is hope for the three of us. I turn to Miranda. Here mating signal is pulsing again, now even stronger.

“So, this is something you want to do,” I ask to be sure and also to keep things moving.

“Yes,” she says, her voice gone breathy.

“Do you need time to get ready?” I ask.

The ritual requires proper preparations to maximize the pleasure of all participants.

She squirms again.

“No, I did that earlier.”

“Really?”

“I was hoping something like this would happen tonight.”

A fine sheen of sweat glistens on Miranda’s brow. She seems nervous, embarrassed, and excited at the same time. I wish I fully understood her current mix of emotions. Ritual participation is seen as a great accomplishment back home.

“She’s perfect,” H’Aart sighs.

He’s sunk for good now. He wants Miranda just as much as I do. My heart is beating fast, lust and excitement coursing through me. I begin to undo my pants. What a great privilege to initiate an enthusiastic ritual partner. I look to H’Aart, and his eyes carry the same pride. He reaches down.

Just then an alert blares through the cabin of the ship. Curses! I want to punch the side of the vessel rather than miss out on the ritual with Miranda. Similarly, H’Aart buries his face in his hands. The alert sounds again. H’Aart and I reluctantly detangle ourselves from Miranda and listen to the message.

“Losing power in quadrant two, node B. Please reroute the pathway.” It’s in our home language so Miranda can’t understand what it says.

“Curses.” H’Aart mutters in our language.

“Is something wrong?”

“Welll….” H’Aart switches to English then trails off.

“It’s okay. You can tell me.” Miranda looks anxious and kind of eager.

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