Skylar's Guardians Page 2

  “Your brains are identical to mine. You just chose not to use them. I’m going to check on our guest and then get to work.”

  Tralec ventured down to the sleeping quarters and lifted the clear dome off the top of the cubicle so he could check the female’s condition. She was still dreadfully pale and her skin was cold and clammy. He knew enough about the race to determine this to be abnormal. But what should he do? She stirred slightly, opening her heavily lidded eyes long enough to show awareness and then closed them again.

  Tralec bit his lip and placed his thumb on the command plate of his portable system device, accessing the manuals belonging to the human’s favorite author. Sections dealing with illness flickered onto the screen, and he began to skim over it, looking for something to help heal the tiny, dark-haired female.

  “Troy? Can you reproduce these items?”

  Troy looked over the list and wrinkled his forehead. “I’m not sure exactly what these things are, but I’ll research them for you. Without the molecular pattern, it might not be possible, but I will try.”

  “Thanks. We might have to wait until she awakens and ask for her assistance. I’m going to get her completely cleaned up. Did you want to help? I know you are curious about the anatomy of this species.”

  “Yeah!” Troy said eagerly. “Does that mean I can touch it?”

  “Yes, if you are careful. Go wash your hands.”

  Tralec lifted his eyebrow as Troy cheerfully plopped down on the bench next to the sleeping cube. “She isn’t a gift for you to play with, Troy. We must afford her the same respect as our society is governed by.”

  “Don’t you want to play with her too?” Troy asked with a knowing tilt of the head and a grin. Lying was prohibited in their culture, so Tralec was obligated to respond honestly.

  Or not. “We will dispose of this… this material that she used as clothing, wash her up, and see if there is anything else we can repair.”

  Troy chuckled, accustomed to his pod-mate’s stubborn habit of avoidance when he decided not to discuss something. The two men slowly disrobed the girl, cutting away bits of clothing and exposing her undernourished body to their view. They sponged her clean, wiping away dirt and grime from every inch. Her hands, arms, and knees were adorned with bruises, scratches, and scabs from living in abusive and inhumane conditions. One ankle was severely discolored from a recent sprain, and a large cut on the edge of her foot looked to be seriously infected.

  “I never could imagine hurting something this small and helpless,” Tralec said sadly, lifting the semi-conscious girl’s leg to get a better look at the laceration. “Could you get the medical kit for me?”

  Troy silently handed the large box to his pod-mate, worry and concern equally plastered across his own face. “She was so cold, but now she feels hot. Why is that?”

  “It’s called a fever. Her body is fighting illness. I know nothing about this species. I wish Leannz was here,” Tralec said worriedly. “She is a creator. She would know what to do.”

  “She would fix her and then hand her over to Leeza to mentor. We would never see her again,” Troy sighed. “What are you going to do?”

  “Try to keep her from dying,” Tralec said seriously. He removed several items from the kit, starting with a long probe attached to a small box. He lifted Skylar’s arms, looking for the pocket of skin that would hold the probe in place and allow a full body scan and resultant instructions.

  “She doesn’t have a fold,” he said with concern. The female blinked sleepily as she turned her face in his direction. He patted her hand and offered her a soft smile. “The probe has to be held tightly in place to work.”

  “Her mouth is too large to hold it, isn’t it?” Troy asked. He ran his callused hands down the length of her legs. “Does she have a pleasure pocket?”

  “Let me see,” Tralec requested. Troy gently spread her legs to expose the dark, curly hair of her soft lips and reached to spread the folds wide. Tralec inserted his finger into her slit. “Not tight enough, and she only has one. What’s this?”

  “Not sure. Let’s turn her over so we can see better,” Troy said. Together they turned the young woman to her stomach and spread the fleshy cheeks of her bottom to expose the small pink orifice.

  “Fascinating,” Tralec said, pressing his finger against the hole and watching it reflexively resist him. “Why would she have an expulsion port here of all places and not on the foot?”

  “It’s very pretty. Look, it winks!” Troy said in awe.

  “This might do the trick. I can’t get my finger in there without difficulty. Hand me the tube.”

  Tralec squeezed a dime-sized blob of white gel onto his finger and lowered it down to meet the girl’s bottom hole. He massaged around the rim, experimenting with the tightness using his thumb. She moaned and moisture began to visibly seep from her body.

  “Do human females get sexual pleasure from stimulating the expulsion port?” Troy asked, his mouth gaping as the female’s body subconsciously began to rock in response to Tralec’s finger against her bottom.

  “I’m not sure. She’s opening it for me… this is amazing. The tightness of her muscles is incredible,” Tralec said as his finger slipped inside.

  “She would be able to take in both appendages, wouldn’t she?” Troy asked, mesmerized by the human’s response to the finger pumping in her ass.

  “Yes, I think so. All right, enough playing. The evaluator, please.” Tralec carefully inserted the long, thick device deeply inside the girl’s bottom and had Troy hold it steady as the frequencies were adjusted. The core of the evaluator expanded until it was anchored tightly in place, allowing it to capture internal images and perform an analysis. A loud groan was heard from the woman’s throat.

  “Don’t hurt her!” Troy barked, running his hand over the smooth bottom. “I like this part best. Our females don’t look like this.”

  “It is beautiful,” Tralec agreed, sitting back and waiting for the probe to complete its evaluation. “The manuals in her device all talk about that part of the anatomy. Apparently, it is the central point to a human’s health, safety, and happiness. There are many different names for it, but the basic understanding is that it is used to both reward and punish.”

  “Punish? How?”

  “They call it spanking,” Tralec said, flipping open his tablet. “There are many different ways to punish and endless devices to use. My guess is that the human tends to be somewhat mischievous and needs to be kept under watch. This one especially, since she had so many manuals available. There are multiple statements regarding the possibility of defiance and that the caregivers are to be consistent and firm in order to keep the subject safe. They say she will make every effort to dissuade punishment and avoid being spanked, yet feels uncared for if she is not.”

  “Humans are an odd species. Tell me more about this spanking,” Troy demanded eagerly.

  “I need to read up on it, but one method indicates that the subject is placed across the thighs with the… bottom… underneath the dominating hand of the punisher. Sharp slaps are delivered to the very top and as far down as the folds of the thighs. Of course, as tiny as she is, one of our hands will cover that entire area.”

  “I am assuming it causes pain.”

  “Apparently so. The subject is disciplined until she either submits to her punishment or until the amount delivered is appropriate for the transgression. It is very vague.”

  “Will it injure her?”

  “I don’t think so. We are much larger than she is, so we have to be aware of our strength. There! It’s done. Release the pressure bulb for me,” Tralec said, pulling the results of the examination upon the screen as Troy gently slid the large probe out and tossed the protective cover in the incinerator shaft. “The readings show she has several internal injuries, but no additional broken bones, minor trauma to the head, but no neurological damage. She should be fine with rest and treatment. It says that Cyphlon is recommended for pain and accelerated h
ealing, but the patient must be awake prior to administration.”

  The female began to stir and Troy reached across to stroke the pale mounds that held him in reserved amazement. His motion seemed to calm her, and she relaxed under his hand. He dipped his fingers between her legs and covered them with her glaze before bringing them up to eye level.

  “Look at this, Tralec. It glistens and the scent is so… so…”

  “It makes me hungry,” Tralec said. He dipped his finger into the moist cavern and brought it to his lips. “She tastes like that pastry we like. The one you bring back from the pantry during celebrations.”

  “You’re right,” Troy said, tasting for himself. “Would she allow us to dine on her?”

  “According to the manuals, females enjoy that immensely. There are even details in how to perform this act so that they can receive pleasure.”

  “Amazing creatures,” Troy murmured, his hand returning to the bare backside. “I can’t wait to learn more.”

  “I never thought I would hear those words leave your mouth,” Tralec grinned. “I will teach you everything I know. What I don’t know, we can learn together. We just need to make certain we practice consistency or it will confuse and anger her.”

  “I can be consistent. May I touch her port?”

  “Yes, but be gentle if you penetrate it. I don’t know how delicate her tissue is.”

  Chapter Two

  The night before…

  Skylar stared blankly into the starry night, oblivious to the sounds of croaking frogs and chirping crickets. Sound, in general, eluded her as she tried to walk off the concussion given to her by her slime-bag of a boyfriend. She limped on a severely twisted ankle as she held her right arm close to her body, certain that it was broken this time. He had beaten her again and left her to fend for herself while he drove off into the darkness. With no phone, no transportation, and no neighbors, she was helpless. She had no idea when he would return to the trailer or what state of mind he would be in when he did. The lifestyle of denial was over—it was only a matter of time before he managed to kill her.

  But how to escape? She was literally in the middle of nowhere. A four-wheel drive was needed to get over the poorly maintained roads and up the steep hills. In her present physical condition, the coyotes would make a meal out of her before sunlight.

  “You reap what you sow,” her grandmother used to preach. Skylar closed her eyes for a brief second, thinking of the old crippled woman. Years of laboring in the fields of Nebraska left her bent and arthritic. All because she was too afraid to take a risk and leave with her new husband for the East Coast.

  A divorced mother of two, Granma had sown fear in her life and had gained nothing but her physical destruction and the bitterness that came in knowing that she’d had her chance for happiness and blew it. Skylar sighed. It sure seemed that the seeds that grew from doing nothing were just as tragic as the ones grown from doing something bad. And Skylar had plenty of bad things to reap from.

  The only reason she was one month clean and sober was because Paul cut her off. He wanted the booze and drugs for himself. He had the same attitude about food, forcing Skylar to pick from his leftovers. She was with him simply because he had been her dealer. But once he grew bored with her and she ran out of the small inheritance Granma had left her, he abandoned her to scrounge for herself. She begged him to not leave her on the streets, and he agreed to let her stay at his trailer under the condition he had use of her body whenever and however he wanted. Desperate and afraid, she agreed.

  Now here she stood, looking longingly into the night sky for an answer. But God didn’t seem to hear her pleas. The thought crossed her mind that maybe He was ignoring her because of all the horrible things she had done. Granma’s scowl appeared in her mind with the words the Almighty loves us despite ourselves. He’s just waiting for us to love who we are before He says anything. She supposed she would never feel that kind of love for she, like Granma, was a miserable, unlovable waste of human flesh.

  Skylar shook her head again, the dizziness worsening. She collapsed to the ground as her injured ankle gave way from underneath her, and she cried out as she jarred her fractured arm on a rock. She wished she could cry, but she had no tears left inside of her. So she prayed… for God to have mercy and just take her away from this dreadful existence. The temperature dropped quickly and the cold took over her mind as she drifted into a blissful state of shock, numbing her pain as it lulled her into a deep and hopefully permanent sleep.

  The sounds of crunching footsteps reached her ears, but she was too weak to either open her eyes or utter a sound in their direction. Two low male voices murmured close to her face, speaking a language she could not understand. Part of her felt relief, knowing that Paul had not returned. She felt herself being lifted carefully, her carrier obviously mindful of her broken limb. He pulled her against his broad, hard chest and pressed her face to rest against him in a protective manner. Skylar’s nose twitched with interest. His scent was decisively male, intoxicating and heady. He was pure pheromone!

  Pain and the concussion prevented her from full awareness of her surroundings. Skylar felt her face being gently cleansed and heard the clipping of a device that removed the tattered material from her injured arm. Warm hands supported the limb as tiny pinches were felt to the area she knew was broken. A low buzz followed by a strong tingling sensation to the throbbing region kept her partially alert as she tried to listen in lieu of seeing. Just as the pain began to become excruciating, she was enclosed in darkness, and the scent of a warm spice reached her nose. She inhaled deeply and fell into an immediate, dreamless sleep.

  Time was immeasurable as she slept in the artificial cocoon, soothed by musical sounds and the aroma of a soft spice wafting through the air. As she roused, Skylar sensed she was being watched and groggily forced her eyes open.

  A man sat outside of the encasement, his purple eyes watching her intently. Skylar tried to focus, her heart skipping a beat as she took in his handsome features. When did Nordic men come into her part of the world? No matter, he was beautiful… and seemed to be larger than life. His image disappeared as her eyes closed once again.

  Skylar struggled to revive herself as she felt hands running along the length of her body and the cool air on her flesh as material was removed. The hands belonged to identical twin men with kind, gentle eyes and reassuring smiles, both dressed in black clothing. The hands helped soothe away her initial anxiety as they washed her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, all the while speaking to her in a foreign language. They supported her ankle, avoided the nasty cut, and handled her with kid gloves as they cleaned and bandaged her injuries. She felt her arms being lifted over her head and the pads of a finger run along her side. She fought not to release a giggle as the man touched a tickle spot, but she offered a slight smile. He patted her hand and lowered her arms, muttering something to the other. Her body stiffened slightly as she felt her womanly lips being parted and the slow sensation of penetration.

  Skylar’s half-asleep state only allowed her to think of what to do, but she was unable to act upon it. The long digit in her pussy felt both invasive and comforting, like it belonged there, yet it was still uninvited and she incapable of stopping it. Her horror came when she was turned over to her stomach, her bottom spread wide to reveal her dusky hole as she felt it being touched.

  Even in her sedated state, the massage around that sensitive area aroused her body in a way that she had not experienced. She heard a low moan trickle from her lips as a warm finger pressed into her. Excited garbles from her observers were exchanged as the movement increased, drawing both audible groans and copious juices from her body. Skylar held her breath as the touching momentarily stopped, wondering what would happen next. Oddly enough, she was not afraid. In fact, she truly felt nothing. It was a dream… All this gentle, nurturing attention by two beautiful foreign strangers was simply a dream. A lovely dream with… what’s that?

  Sky
lar clenched her teeth as she felt her bottom being probed again and the sensation of an object, wider than a finger, being slid within her. She was no virgin, not after the disgusting things Paul would do to her when he was hyped on drugs, but this invasion was different. The object began to swell and fill her cavity to the point of unusual, but comfortable, fullness. A small vibration tingled against the tight internal walls, and her skin shivered in a delightful response. The item remained in place as it began to slowly turn.

  An ache trembled through her. It had been years since she had last orgasmed not under her own power, and she felt her body awakening to the need for satisfaction. She was touched again and felt the warm, gentle fingers explore her moisture. More, she urged mentally, trying to will herself to reaching a place of pleasure. But her body, too exhausted and broken, would not cooperate. With a sigh, Skylar ceased her resistance and allowed herself to drift again into blissful sleep.

  * * *

  Skylar abruptly opened her eyes, staring at a ceiling made of tiny diamond-shaped, pale blue platelets. Her body felt heavy and she was unable to move her limbs. Did Paul finally paralyze her? She tried to hold back the surge of panic as she recalled the beating she had faced. He had left her to die, so how in the world did she end up in this… hospital? Skylar slowly turned her head, wincing as the nauseating headache from the concussion came to life. The entire room was stark and undecorated, in pale blue and off-white. The bed she was tucked away in resembled a ‘tanning clam,’ with a long, rectangular mattress that made her feel as though she were floating on air. Her fingers reached to touch the material, finding nothing. Holy shit! She was suspended above the base like a human hovercraft. No wonder she was so comfortable. She tried to reach up and touch the clear dome that housed her body in the case, but was unable to lift her arms.

  She heard a man’s voice from the far side of the room and strained her head to see him.