Black Market Romance
Three Love Stories from the Draconian Underworld
by
Zola D Wadsworth
© 2011 Zola D Wadsworth. All rights reserved.
eBook original, Smashwords Edition
ISBN-13: 978-0-9836863-0-9
Edited by: Ally E. Peltier, Ambitious Enterprises
Cover art by: Barbara Morris, Barbwired Design
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The stories contained in this eBook are works of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is an amazing coincidence.
Contents
Hard Choices
The Awakening
To Save a Lyrian
Hard Choices
Yet another cocktail of smells flooded the otherwise sterile-smelling steam bath of a room. I’d lost count of how many times this had happened since I woke here. The other prisoners whimpered and moaned as they always did. Some wept. I’d hung here, suspended between floor and ceiling by metal bands around my wrists and ankles, for so long I almost welcomed anything that could end this captivity.
Almost.
The scent was different this time. Cinnamon, thick and sweet as molasses, flooded my senses and I felt my mind fog over even as my pulse sped up. Blood pumped into my member, swelling it to full erectness. I let out a shuddering breath. I couldn’t remember ever being this aroused, even when I was a teen spying on my older sister and her friends as they changed clothes during their slumber parties. I squirmed in my bonds. My entire body ached from being stretched spread-eagled and my jaw was so sore from the ring spreading it open, my face felt numb.
Apprehension warred with primal arousal. I’d seen what was coming for me—knew what they’d do. The other prisoners whimpered and cringed in terror or yanked impotently at their bonds—desperate for escape. I thought I was past caring, but fear laced icy fingers through my bowels and squeezed. Nonetheless, as the smell thickened, I found myself helplessly humping the air, desperate for completion. The cinnamon aroma was like breathing in sex.
Sweat coated my naked body and trickled through my hair. I panted and gasped—choking on the feeding tube attached to the ring. I was barely aware of the whoosh of air past me, my mind was so clouded with lust, but I immediately focused as soon as I heard a heavy clawed-foot clatter on the grated floor. As the thickness of the fragrance waned, my head cleared a little more and the fear took hold. The floor rattled and groaned under their weight.
The dragons were coming for me.
I called them dragons because that was the closest thing I could think of to describe them. They were huge, tailless, wingless reptiles that acted far more intelligent than any dinosaur could have. Were they aliens? They hissed and clicked at each other in apparent conversation. The other captives here, all human-looking, even understood them, though I didn’t.
I tried to concentrate on one positive thought: Once the female forced me to taste her juices, my restraints would be released—I’d finally get a chance to escape. Of the hundreds of different smells pumped in here, only two other prisoners had become aroused. As soon as they’d tasted, the fight had gone out of them and they’d meekly followed our captors from the building. I mentally readied myself. I wasn’t going to take this without a fight.
They came into view and I was forced to adjust my thinking. One of the dragons I recognized. He’d come in the other two times as well. He was six inches taller than my six-foot six and not as well muscled. His snake-like, mottled skin, if you could call it that, glistened in the dim, bluish light. Walking balanced on his clawed toes, he moved with an easy, muscular grace, slitted, orange eyes glowing in the gloom from an angular crocodilian head. The harsh lighting of this place was too blue for me to make out his coloration. Since they didn’t wear clothing, it was easy to tell their sex—at least from the front. The males sported huge dicks while the females did not. He carried the remote that would control my bonds in one huge hand, finger claws retracted.
What gave me pause was the male that accompanied him. The previous two dragons had been about the jailer’s height. I’d thought I could stun one enough to make a break for it. I’d made my way through college as a line-backer, though I opted out of jumping through the hoops necessary to go pro. Despite the course work for my advanced degrees, I made an effort to keep in shape—women loved my body. I was nearly as fit as when I’d played.
This new one was easily a foot taller than the jailer and his prominent muscles flexed as he strode gracefully toward me. Distinct double-ridges ran up his angular nose. He cocked his head slightly as his green-gold eyes looked me over. Like the others, this one wore no clothing, but he did have three glittering, jeweled studs pierced through his right eye-ridge. He also wore several heavy, jeweled rings on his fingers.
And he was male. The other two captor-captive pairings had been male-female. I was getting a male. Terror warred with rage and disgust. I embraced the anger, clinging to it. How dare they abduct me, hold me captive, and force me to have oral sex with an alien male reptile!
The huge dragon stopped, towering over me. I met his gaze and attempted to bore my fury into him. His scent drifted over me and I felt my erection snap to full attention. He was emitting that smell? What was it, something like pheromones?
He shifted, assuming an indolent posture as he cocked his head the opposite direction and continued to look me over. His nostrils flared and a movement caught my attention. His own cock slowly swelled to an intimidating length.
He hissed something. The jailer flinched and hurriedly tapped a sequence into his box as he hissed back.
“…apologies, my lord. The interpreter was set for Lyrian,” the box emitted dispassionate English.
The taller dragon quirked an eye ridge at the jailer. “It’s not lyrian?” he clicked.
“No, my lord,” I noticed the jailer’s bowed head and that he danced attendance this time. “This is the one human.”
The jailer kept his head tilted toward the floor so he missed the sudden widening of the other’s eyes. The dragon lord straightened and reached a hand out toward me. He lightly trailed a finger over my chest. His skin felt dry and silky like a snake, and his scent flooded my nose, intensifying my lust. “It is spirited. I like that it’s not as fragile as the others, but I want a female. The first house has a human female. That’s what I want.”
“My humblest apologies, my lord, but as my lord knows, a compatible symbiotic match is very rare. Human psions are rare. Earth is a protected world. Capturing this one was a lucky chance and came at grave risk. My lord might not see another human in my lord’s lifetime, much less one compatible with my lord. And my lord knows the consequences of binding an incompatible psion.”
The dragon lord grunted, then nodded. “I’ll take him.”
“Excellent, my lord,” the jailer worked his remote and the membrane-like substance that blocked my mouth and held the feeding tube left and retracted toward the unseen ceiling leaving the ring behind to hold my jaws open. More taps and the metal wrist bands wrenched my arms back and down, jerking me to my knees, hands bound behind me. “My lord need only feed him from my lord’s first level of seed to set his addiction.”
Addiction? Fury lanced through me, edging out my uncontrollable lust. From this angle, the dragon lord’s cock looked huge, proportionate to his body maybe, but he was eight feet tall! He reached out and gently grasped the back of my head as his green-gold eyes glinted down at me. I growled and jerked my head from his hand. The dragon lord’s mouth shifted to what could have been a smile or a sneer. He grasped my head more firmly, but instead of stuffing his cock into my mouth, he extended his other hand and stroked my cheek.
He smelled like thick, hot sex and my mouth actually watered, eager for a taste.
“High Lord Lorfriss’s symbiont bound herself willingly, using the ancient ceremony. This would be less,” the dragon lord commented.
“Apologies, my lord, but it will not be,” the jailer stammered. “Addict him now, then wait for the withdrawal. He will eagerly perform the ceremony with you in a few days. The bond will be as strong.”
The dragon lord continued to gaze down at me. His steely rod twitched, as if begging to be serviced. Slowly, he let me go and took a step back. “I won’t chance it. I’ll take him home as-is.”
Relief flooded me. Strangely, I was also disappointed.
“Apologies, my lord, but I can’t…”
He was cut off by the dragon lord’s hand around his throat, claws extended. “You’ll do as I command.”
Good lord he’s fast! I hadn’t even seen him move.
“But my lord,” the jailer gasped. “It’s too dangerous. He’s a protected species here illegally. We’ll be executed. And my lord knows how desperate everyone is to bind a psion. Most won’t consider the consequences of incompatibility. My lord will lose him.”
“You doubt my power?” the dragon lord growled before he released the jailer, who staggered into the prisoner next to me. “Seal his mouth, then key his bindings to me. You have your money. The rest is no longer your concern.”
“Y-yes, my lord,” the jailer murmured as he tapped keys on his remote.
While my wrists remained bound, the pull toward the floor released, as did the field around my ankles. My body tried to collapse, but I struggled to my feet, fighting against the stiffened, painful joints. I meekly staggered after them and left the warehouse, hating myself with every step. But what could I do? My body was too sore for a fight and even if I were free and at my best, I didn’t think I could take on the towering dragon lord. Next to him I felt like a frail child. I’d just have to wait for an opportunity.
Outside the prison door was a small, bright, gray office-like space. Its furnishings were spare and utilitarian, scaled to fit dragon occupants. The light appeared to come from the walls, though they didn’t glow. It was just as hot and steamy as in the warehouse.
The jailer retrieved a patch of membrane from a drawer and handed it to the dragon lord who carefully fitted it over my mouth—still held open by the ring. I felt it seal. Moments later the dragon lord took the remote from the jailer, placed a hand on my back and guided me toward another door.
Outside was an immense hanger with several sleek hovering objects in it. He adjusted a small device wrapped around his wrist. As he guided me toward an impressive black one, he said, “You’ll be treated better once you’re secure inside my home.” He opened a door. “For now, get in.” A soft voice from his wrist translated.
Heat escaped the cramped oven of a space. I re-debated my options, then hesitantly climbed inside. He closed the door behind me and I took several deep breaths, trying not to panic over being in the dark, tight space. I lay down, panting and sweating. It was so hot!
God help me this must be hell.
I roused slowly from a comforting blackness. The dragon lord’s luscious scent blanketed me. Whispered words sounded inside my mind.
Almost lost him to the heat…glad he’s not a female after all...I like that he’s not weak…smells so good, this gift from the Master Makers…his thoughts taste so good…should have forced him…would have been easier and safer for both of us.
Frowning, I dismissed the weird stream of consciousness as a hallucination. I was dehydrated and hearing voices.
The soft pillow under my head slowly rose, then fell, and memory came flooding back. I lifted my aching head and realized that the dragon lord cradled me in his arms. His thick, stiff member rested against my side, as my hardness lay against his. Amazingly, I was cool. Cool and far too comfortable. My hands were free and the gag was gone. I tried to push away from him, but his arms were like thick, steel cables. Failing that, I massaged my sore jaw, covered by a two-week beard.
He watched me with those curious, inhuman eyes. He shifted, then grasped my chin between his fingers, forcing my head up. He studied me a moment, then released me completely, letting me slide to the cold, stone floor. I looked around at the large room. It was decorated much like pictures I’d seen of an ancient roman villa—columns, bright frescos, ornate wooden furniture. I could even hear a fountain. The steamy heat enveloped me and I grew uncomfortably hot again. Why had I been so cool?
He draped himself artfully across a chaise lounge, completely at his ease with his long legs spread. He was beautiful with the sun illuminating him, primarily a light blue with subtle indigo and green stripes. His head ridges were tipped in yellow and lavender. Beautiful and powerful. He indolently waved toward a door behind the lounge. “The wash room is through there. I’ve acquired numerous lyrian grooming tools. Human grooming tools are not available here. Use whatever.” Don’t scare him…don’t drive him away.
He was tense. How did I know that? As much as I wanted a shower and a shave, I didn’t move. Instead I stared him down and asked, “Who are you and where am I?”
Though his body remained relaxed and his face impassive, I felt his anger flare hot and dangerous. Control. Ignore the slight…if we bond he’ll have the rank to speak like this to me anyway. “I’m Lord Dracon Pendorhiss of the fifty-sixth house of Orion. You’re on my estate on Dracon Prime.”
I felt like I might vomit. I’d had time in their prison to decide both that I wasn’t dreaming and that the creatures who held me were sentient, though non-human. I was an astrophysicist, so that wasn’t hard to come to grips with. But until now, I’d entertained the belief that I was still on Earth—that escape would be a matter of running away. “Where is Dracon Prime in relationship to Earth?” I asked numbly.
A long way, lovely creature, the sad thought drifted through my mind. “Refresh yourself, human.” He closed his eyes and settled back against the cushions. The indifference was feigned. He watched me closely. Somehow I knew that.
The bath was as luxurious as the other room with carved tiles of a strange stone and a deep, Jacuzzi of a bath. I took my time, scraping weeks’ worth of grime from my body and taking advantage of the solitude and pheromone-free clear-headedness to reevaluate my options. I wasn’t in immediate danger and I wasn’t immobilized. As much as my gut told me to run, my better sense told me to wait and come up with a solid plan, especially if what he said was true and I really was on another planet. Countering my instinctive disbelief was the reality my body told me of this place. I felt heavier here, almost as if the gravity was turned up a notch. The humidity was unlike anything I’d ever felt.
Since planning an escape required talking to this dragon lord, I steeled myself to be in his presence.
I emerged from the washroom. Pendorhiss appeared not to have moved. I paused and studied his face a moment. He looked almost gentle in repose. Deciding he was asleep, I moved toward the wide opening that led out to a zen-like courtyard. A hot breeze blew across my face bringing alien smells with it.
“There’s food.” I flinched and turned back toward him. “There.” He flicked his fingers toward the opposite side of the room where a high table was spread with numerous platters.
Stomach growling, I took a deep breath and changed directions. After so many meals of that cardboard substance they’d force-fed me, here was real food.
He is beautiful. I like the face hairless. His golden mane is fluffy. I didn’t know that I would be so attracted to a male.
I shook my head and rubbed my temples, blinking away the strange thoughts. Were those his thoughts or had the captivity made me psychotic? I climbed onto one of the high chairs and poured some of the liquid into a goblet. The water tasted cold and sweet and I drank greedily. After two cups, I sampled some of the strange foods. Fruit mostly, but there were fine breads as well.
More thoughts intruded. I wanted a symbiont…want a symbiont…need him…I regret it. The black market in psions flourishes because draconians are desperate. Draconians like me. He’s a victim of that desire…my desire.
The strange thoughts made my head ache, but if I was hearing his thoughts, maybe I could use that to find an escape—if I could focus through the pain, that was.
“What do you call yourself, human?” I jumped as his voice sounded directly behind me. I’d been too absorbed in the food to notice his approach, I guess.
I cleared my mouth as he gracefully draped himself into the chair next to mine, propped his head up on a hand and regarded me.
“James Kruger,” I said.
“James.” He hissed my name, forked tongue flicking out as if tasting it. He emitted an odd series of clicks. “I’ve sent the servants away, so you are safe here.” For a symbiont, they’d betray me in an instant. Force him into a life-long addiction of hatred with none of the joys or benefits of symbiosis. “You must trust me, James.” Master Makers I want him.
“Stop that!” I ordered, clutching my head in both hands.
I felt his surprise. What?
“Stop talking in my head like that!” And smelling like that. I didn’t want sex with him. But I did.
He hears through my shields? He’s strong, then. He doesn’t know? No, he wouldn’t. He’s a human. “It is your own psionics. The smugglers awakened you. You must learn control as Lady Mara has.”
I stared at him, trying to digest what he said. “What?”
“Telepathy is the most common of psionics,” the dragon explained, sitting up straighter, his indolent posture gone. “Other than lyrians and the gray slaves, humans are the only other species to possess it, though among you it is rare and suppressed by your governments.” His thoughts taste so good. The lyrian mind net is spread so thin. He’s a banquet.
“Why didn’t I hear voices while I was in the prison? If you’re not doing this, how can you taste my thoughts? My government? They know about you? This?” Oh, his smell. My heart pounded and I felt my erection twitch. I didn’t know I could be this hard this long.
Pendorhiss sighed. “I am not a psion. No draconian is. We feed off of the static psions emit. It...” he blinked at me as if considering how to express this concept. Or maybe if he should express his thought to me. “It balances us. Your emotions give it flavor. You didn’t hear before because they kept strong psionic dampening fields on both the building and through the bands you wore. If a stray thought from one of the captives leaked out, the lyrian mind-net would pick it up.” When I frowned at him, he explained, “The lyrians have consented to service our psionic need. They have linked their thoughts across the planet in a psionic net to do this. It is very sensitive and always looking for psion captives.” The estate is shielded, but if he leaves the field to call for help, he risks being taken by another draconian. I should have forced him.
My head pounded and I felt sapped of energy and hot with lust. This was too much. Gentle fingers stroked the back of my hand, sending an excited chill up my arm. I met his inhuman eyes—his expression surprisingly kind. “Come,” he urged, lightly grasping my hand and tugging. “You’ll be my serving companion tonight.”
I got the impression that he was extending some sort of privilege to me. His palm brushed mine and I felt an odd, giddy pleasure bubble inside me. He led me back to the bath, his movements slow and graceful. I knew how fast he could move and decided that his effort not to startle me was thoughtful.
He withdrew a basket of liquid soaps and a pumice stone from a cupboard and gently placed them in my hands, his fingers stroking my palms before moving away. I swallowed hard. He climbed into the water and beckoned to me.
The offer was amazingly tempting in the pleasure it promised. My body screamed for him. I thought about refusing, but I was too tired and too horney. What the hell. I climbed in with him.
He rolled over onto his stomach using the graded side of the pool to rest comfortably. “Use the stone and the oil to scrub my back and ridges.” His back was covered in larger, heavier scales—armored plates—that gleamed brilliantly teal. I gently stroked one of them before taking up the indicated items. The texture was as soft as his chest, though I could feel that they were as thick as they looked. I gently scrubbed them with the oiled stone and he emitted a rumble that was almost a purr. The tips were edged in yellow, except for a single row down either side of his spine that was tipped in indigo, giving the illusion of stripes. His spine ridges were even harder, yet still covered in that soft skin.
He felt good under my hands. Despite my washing him, his cinnamon pheromones grew stronger and thicker, clouding my mind.
“Stop that,” I gasped, surprised at the huskiness to my voice.
“What?”
“Giving off those pheromones or whatever it is that smells like that.”
“I can’t,” he replied. “A little harder with the stone.” I rubbed harder and he let out a huge sigh. “I’m aroused. You smell equally good to me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Who knows the minds of the Master Makers? You’re my symbiont, a one-in-a-million match.”
“Why do you want this bond so much?” I asked. The question came out a groan.
He slowly rolled over, took the stone from my hand and sat up. His green-gold eyes glinted as he gazed at me. He took my hand and drew me from the bath. We dried each other and he led me through the darkening house to a chamber dominated by huge, raised bowl. It was padded with soft fabric. Before I could think, he lifted me onto it. I tumbled down the slope to the middle as he climbed in beside me.
The bed smelled like him, further clouding my mind. His soft skin brushed against me as he stretched out, long and muscular, to take me into his arms. His eyes glowed in the dim light. I stiffened, fear lancing through me. His huge hand roamed my back, occasionally kneading a tense muscle, until I relaxed against him. He pressed me onto my back and continued his gentle exploration of my body, fingers trailing over my chest, a palm cupping and kneading my defined muscles. It felt so good to be touched this way. His scent was a drug in my system. I needed release and I no longer cared how or with whom.
His hand worked ever downward, the back brushing against my painful erection as he rubbed my stomach, and then my inner thighs. I shuddered in sheer pleasure. Had any woman ever done this to me? I couldn’t think—didn’t want to.
I felt his snout nuzzling behind my ear—amazingly gentle with soft ridges covering those rows of teeth. His breath came cool and sweet. Pleasure chills ran down my spine and I let out a ragged breath. He cupped me and played with my balls. “Touch me,” he whispered.
Hesitantly, I pressed my hand to his chest and began exploring him. Soft and cool and solid. He emitted that clicking, groaning purr again and the sound excited me. I worked my way lower. His erection was pressed against my side and he rubbed it against me in helpless, spasmodic jerks. I liked that he was as consumed by his lust as I was—that I had this power over him.
He grasped my cock, enveloping it in his huge hand and gently pumping its length. I groaned and hesitantly did the same for him. It took both of my hands to come close. His shaft was velvet soft—it felt like mine, only larger and lacking the pronounced head.
‘Yes. This is a small taste of what it will be like,’ he directed a thought into my mind along with his pleasure. His purr intensified and he shifted, sliding my own member between my hands to rub it against his own. He grasped my hands in his. Blinded by pleasure, I panted and moaned as we fucked our hands. Cocks rubbing. Panting. Building.
I teetered on the edge of blindness a moment, then my climax rolled through me in exquisite waves. He followed me over and we both shuddered and convulsed for a long time, our seed pumping to cover us. The release was more satisfying than anything I’d ever felt. My body felt heavy and complete as he wrapped me securely into his arms and curled up around me.
Suddenly, cold apprehension shattered my somnolence. “This didn’t bind us, did it?” I breathed.
“No,” he confirmed, rubbing his head against me. He let out a contented sigh.
“Is sex all there is to it?” I asked, relaxing again. I was a little surprised that this huge, powerful lizard was such a cuddler. I never had been, but I was content to remain where I was.
“Only a small part,” he replied, his voice heavy as if he were drifting toward sleep. He continued explaining through his thoughts, as if he were too weary to speak. ‘…minds joined…empathy and complete telepathy with you…enhanced strength, speed, and intelligence. The chemical dependence is a small price to pay for such power and pleasure—to never be alone again.’ Laced in with these thoughts was an almost painful sense of loneliness.
It never occurred to me that an alien might feel emotions that were considered basic to humans—that the loneliness would drive him to an illegal act. I should have been furious with him, but I felt touched instead. I had the power to make him happy. It was a tempting thought.
“James. James!” I woke with a gasp, heart pounding with fear. Pendorhiss’s hand shook my shoulder. I started and cringed away from him. He cocked his head to one side and blinked. “Your ordeal at the hands of the smugglers invades your sleep,” he observed.
I took a deep breath and let it out, scrubbing my face with my hands. For a minute, I’d thought that this was all one big nightmare and I’d wake up with a monster hang-over and laugh about it with my friends. Cinnamon. The dragon lord’s scent wrapped around me. I refused to be comforted or diverted, damnit! I wanted...I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but after the nightmare, revenge burned hot in my soul. Growling, I wrenched out of his grasp and dropped to the floor. Anger flared through me as I paced.
The dragon emitted a rapid clicking sound and I glanced up to see him studying me with intense, green-gold eyes. I could feel his excitement and fascination. His forked tongue flickered. In a single, blinding movement, he leapt over me to land by the door. “Come.”
I had to jog to keep up with his long, agile strides and sweat quickly drenched me. Early morning sunlight from twin suns cast long shadows throughout the garden. He skirted the carefully raked sand and rocks, keeping to the covered walkway. He passed through a large opening on the opposite side of the courtyard. A few steps later we entered a large room filled with benches and weights. A tall, padded, wooden dummy in the shape of a draconian stood in one corner.
He gestured toward it. “Release your anger there.”
With a bellow of sheer rage, I let into the dummy, wishing with every strike that I’d been able to do this to the smugglers. Drenched in sweat, I slowed, then stopped, hanging on the dummy as I panted. “Damn it’s hot here.”
“Tell me of the battle,” Pendorhiss hissed. I glanced over at him. His posture looked tense and his cock stood fiercely erect, as if my fury excited him. “Tell me how you fought them.” This I understand. He has the body of a warrior. He feels the battle-song in his blood.
I growled and planted my fist into the face of the dummy. I panted a moment before I replied, “I never got a chance. I was driving. South of Albuquerque on I-85 to the University of New Mexico’s Las Cruses campus to teach a class. It was late at night. I remember seeing bright lights. I woke in the prison.”
He was silent so long I finally turned and looked at him. His head cocked to one side then the other as he regarded me. He does not like to be helpless.
“Will you let me go free?” I asked.
He exhaled and his shoulders appeared to slump. “It’s not that simple. I can make some inquiries, but even if they do come and escort you, there’s no guarantee you’ll make it back to Earth without being sold off again. The black market is almost as powerful as the government.”
I blinked and suddenly I was wrapped in his arms. I didn’t sense the movement was meant as comfort though his delicious scent enveloped me. Before I could pull away from him I began to cool off. “You are a scholar? Not a warrior?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I was an athlete. It paid for my education. I still work out.” By the time I finished speaking, I felt comfortable and very aroused. “How are you doing this?”
“I adjust my body temperature to the air around me. Your excess heat is very welcome.” He relaxed his grip on me and tipped my head up to look at him. “Come to me when you get hot.”
I nodded.
“What did you study?” he asked as he clasped my hand firmly in his and tugged me toward the courtyard. The gesture made my breath catch.
Laughter bubbled up. “Astrophysics.” I laughed hard at the bitter irony of it. I’d studied hard in order to travel into space and now that I was here, all I wanted to do was leave. “If my colleagues only knew!” What lies had we been taught?
The draconian lord wheezed something like laughter. We walked back to the bathroom. He had me wash him thoroughly and guided my hand, slick with soap, to his thick shaft. Delirious with his pheromones, I stroked him as he washed the evidence of our previous night’s pleasure from my chest, and then turned his attention to my needy member. We stared into each other’s eyes as we jerked each other off. I should ask him to bind with me now. I want him. No. Not yet. My lust-clouded mind phased into and out of reality. Afterward, we enjoyed a meal in the main room.
“I must attend to a few things today. You have the freedom of my estate. I caution you not to leave. Interrupt me if you need me to take your heat.” Placing a palm against one side of my head, he bent and nuzzled my cheek before leaving and I couldn’t help leaning into the touch.
As I explored his home, it didn’t take long for my head to clear of his pheromones. The home really was laid out and decorated like a modern version of a roman villa, though the art items on display were otherworldly in both materials and aesthetics. I liked his taste. I got in a work-out and felt better for it, though even his lightest weights were almost too much for me. The weight the machines were set to made me glad I hadn’t tried to fight him. He’d have crushed me with no effort at all.
I had to approach him to cool off afterward. I was ashamed to admit that I enjoyed that in spite of the fact that he wasn’t producing that intoxicating scent. I wondered why he wasn’t since he had been ever since we’d met. He sat at a desk with a hologram-like computer monitor hovering in front of him, reading something written in alien characters. I got the impression from his mind that he studied some sort of political problem that bored and frustrated him. Maybe the lack of pheromones was due to his mood.
He glanced down at me, then reached over and tapped a sequence on the screen. “Authorize James Kruger research access voice response.”
“Enabled,” hissed the computer.
“You can access the networks now if you like—news, libraries, and such. There’re several terminals around the house.”
Eager to discover if he was lying to me and to know more about this strange place, I left him and sat down at a desk like the one I’d seen in his office and attempted to operate it. I managed to turn on the screen.
“James Kruger,” I said when the selection of symbols stilled.
“Access granted,” the disembodied voice replied.
I queried about symbionts first. Listening to the response was tedious and I could understand why Pendorhiss would choose to read it instead. I was used to scanning much of my reading material. Assuming that he hadn’t planted material here for me to find, I could see where this bond could be an advantage—two beings able to stand on their own combining their strengths to become even stronger. From what I could stand listening to, the lyrians and draconians evolved together and the sole purpose of draconian pheromones was to attract a symbiont…not a mate. The big lizards actually needed psionic waves in order to stabilize their mental and emotional functions.
The lyrians abandoned the draconians eons ago and initiated a propaganda campaign to erase all memory of symbiosis from both species’ memory, though guarded records were kept by the lyrians. That such a thing was possible had only recently been re-discovered by the draconians. To compensate for the lack of psionic feed, the draconians had engineered a species called the grays, a hive-minded, psionic slave species. Recent gray treachery prompted the draconians to eradicate the entire species, leaving themselves with nothing to feed from. The lyrians stepped in to prevent genocide, with heavily guarded mind nets on the draconian worlds, but those were barely enough to keep the draconians from becoming mindless killing machines.