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Chapter Five

D r. Drayke sun Omrun

As soon as Nova slides into sleep, I escape our little bed and hurry to the private, attached lab. It’s completely unnecessary to pull off my jumpsuit to take a look at what’s happening to my body. I already know. I’ve bonded to the lovely human.

My cock is erect and thrumming with sensation. I can’t deny what’s been increasingly obvious over the last few days. I’m well aware of what happens next when a Dacian male bonds: either consummation within two complete lunar cycles, or bonding sickness.

Bonding sickness. Young males chuckle and titter about it when learning about their bodies at puberty. However, it is no laughing matter. It seldom happens, but when it does occur it’s always painful and eventually deadly. It can result when the female rejects the male. On rare occasions, it occurs when the female dies or is removed from the male for some other purpose.

Whatever the reason, bonding sickness is inevitable, relentless, and terminal when a male cannot consummate with his mate. I’ve read many books on the phenomenon, but it can all be distilled down to one thing— mercura .

Once a male bonds, his body chemistry begins to overload with this hormone . My cells are already transforming. Every hour that passes will push my mind further into desperate, all-consuming physical need. The longer this continues, the less rational and more animalistic I will become. Every male progresses at his own pace, but two lunar cycles is as long as a male can last without descending into complete insanity.

Intercourse with a female other than one's bonded mate does not alleviate the symptoms. There is no known cure.

There is a process, elective of course, called sanctu whereby a male can take his own life if bonding sickness is unremitting. The pain and insanity are so severe this process is not even prohibited by Lord God Anteros himself.

Just thinking of consummating with Nova further engorges my already-erect penis. I imagine opening the Three Gates: three successive nights of sexual contact before The Bond is complete. Each night more intimate and erotic than the last until male and female are bonded and linked completely and forever. Contemplating these passionate ceremonies has me panting through my teeth and grasping my thighs over my jumpsuit so I don’t follow through with the urge to stroke myself to the point of release.

I don’t want anyone else on the ship to know what’s happening to me. I don’t wish to be relieved of my post. If I had a Dacian supervisor, he or she would know immediately and put me on other duties, far from Nova. But I’m the only Dacian on this ship; perhaps I can keep it a secret. Dax might know something’s wrong—I growled at him after all. But if he brings it up I can explain it away by revealing it was due to seeing the bloody amputation in the arena.

I’ve never had a female to care for before, never pursued anyone. So I'm unsure how I know it, but I’m certain when Nova wakes up I shouldn’t mention what just happened in her bed. That kiss was so erotic, so sensuous, so compelling. I can’t even imagine anything more exciting than that—and yet I’ve read enough to know further explorations will make my bonding drive even more imperative.

I’m cautiously optimistic that Nova will be receptive to my courtship. I never dreamed Nova would let her guard down around me. I certainly never thought she’d invite me into her bed. And I never thought she would allow me to touch her, much less kiss her. All of it was wonderful. I’m truly blessed.

What will happen when Nova finds out about Dacian bonding? Her lack of trust will spiral into hatred if she thinks all I want from her is a biologically-determined mate. She’ll never believe I have true feelings for her.

I halt my thoughts—ruminating is getting me nowhere. My professors in school told me I had a brilliant mind. I need to use it. How do I figure out how to court Nova?

Grace pops into my mind. She’s such a worthwhile female. She might have some practical suggestions. I’ll give it a try.

I glance down and see my erect cock making a tent in my blue jumpsuit. Before I approach Grace, I need to figure out how to deal with this.

I work in the attached lab to Nova’s room until I assume everyone will be awake. It should be the work of a moment to borrow a loincloth from Dax and have him teach me how to put it on. Luckily I find him in his cabin. He’s completely at ease with his nudity, opening his door while toweling himself dry.

“What’s the problem, doc? Need help in medbay?” His face is an open book, so guileless. I’m a dracker for keeping secrets, but nobody can know the trusted ship’s doctor is about to descend into lust-crazed insanity.

“No, no.” I’m distracted, trying to figure out a way to get this information without divulging the reason I need it. “I was wondering if you could loan me a loincloth and,” I try to add casually, “show me how to put it on?”

Any belief that I handled that well is dashed when he tilts his head in skepticism, pressing his lips into a thin line and lowering his brow. Thankfully, though, he saunters to his dresser and pulls out a long, thin piece of black cloth.

I watch as he goes through a complicated series of twists and turns, binding himself tightly in the span of less than a minima . “Easy,” he says, then tosses me a clean cloth.

“No way, Dax! There were about twenty steps to that. I got lost after the first wrap around the waist. How can I follow that?”

He laughs. “You’re a doctor. You can perform surgery, reattach arms, save lives! How come you can’t put on a loincloth?” He sees my dejection and takes pity on me, so he removes his own cloth and gives me a step-by-step tutorial.

My first attempt is not only unsuccessful, but painful, effectively creating a tourniquet around my balls. I couldn’t untie that fast enough. The second attempt bunches so uncomfortably I’d never be able to take two steps in it without a partial amputation. By the third attempt, I get it correct.

“One more time, doc. This time by yourself.”

It takes two more complete run-throughs, but now I’m certain I can do it on my own. Dax, bless him, made no comment about the perma-erect state of my cock, although the quizzical look on his face tells me he’s dying to.

After thanking him, still avoiding his unspoken question, I hurry to my cabin to pull on clean clothes. Alone in my room, I tune in to the insistent throbbing in my cock and balls.

I don’t know how other males deal with this feeling—pleasurable and overpowering at the same time. I’m unable to ignore it. I’ll have to deal with it.

I tear the loincloth off, hoping I’ll be able to re-apply it correctly later. But right now I have to attend to the unrelenting pressure threatening to explode.

I look down and see my cock—hard and engorged. It’s a darker shade of blue than I’ve ever seen it. I touch it with one finger and my eyes shutter closed in sheer ecstasy. Dear Lord, the feeling is so intense.

I grasp the shaft and moan with pleasure, then begin to stroke. I instinctively find the perfect pressure and just the right rhythm. No wonder poets and musicians pay endless attention to the subject of sex. It is the single most compelling moment of my life—experiencing this delicious pressure. Do I prolong this bliss, or allow myself release?

My mind flies to the picture of Nova’s perfect, rounded breasts bobbing as she ran across the sands of the arena. I can only tolerate a moment of this intensity building in my balls as I imagine my hands on her. I can’t contain myself another moment, though. I moan and spill my seed when I picture the small flash of pink I spied between her legs when she climbed the steep stone hill in the arena.

My breath is huffing in great gasps as I spend a moment basking in the afterglow of the most intense physical experience I’ve ever known. My legs are tremoring, my jaw is still clamped tightly shut. I finally open my eyes and see my pale blue release splattered all over the mirror and metal walls of the bathroom.

I’m certain I will be doing this on a regular basis until either consummation or insanity. I must admit, it gave me a modicum of relief. I make a mental note to perform this in the shower in the future.

I competently put on the loincloth, then pull on my blue jumpsuit. Although my cock is already semi-hard, it’s camouflaged, which was the desired result. I head toward Grace’s cabin, already experiencing another onslaught of mercura -induced unrelenting arousal.

“Can I speak with you?” I ask when she answers the door.

“Come in,” she offers. I hesitate a moment, not wanting the appearance of impropriety, or to anger Tyree, Grace’s mate. She steps back to let me pass, so I cross her threshold. Her room is an exact duplicate of mine, twelve fiertos square with a small adjoining bathroom. There is a bed, a dresser and a corner desk with a small computer on it. Hers is as sparsely furnished as my own.

“May I speak with you confidentially, Miss Grace?”

“Of course, Dr. Drayke, what’s the matter?”

“A... certain female on board has... caught my eye.” Oh, I’m terrible at this. My heart is pounding, I bite my lip. “I’d like to court her, but I have no idea how.” There, it’s out.

“Nova seems like a fine woman, Dr. Drayke. You have good taste.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Most of the other woman on board are already involved with someone, and you’ve been stuck in medbay alone with her. It wasn’t a hard guess.”

I should have known there could be no secrets on board this small vessel. “Do you have any suggestions? She seems short on trust. I’d like to give her time to get to know me.”

“All I can tell you is how it’s done on Earth. I have no idea how Dacians do things.”

“She’s an Earth female, I need to approach it her way.”

“Right. Well, we call it dating. Even though males and females on my planet like to think the two sexes are equal, when it comes to dating, everything reverts back to a more primitive time and place. No matter how independent a woman is, she likes it when her male does thoughtful things for her.”

“Like feed her?” I interrupt. Perhaps I understand this better than I thought.

“Yes, like take her out to eat.”

“Out to eat?”

“Yes,” she replies.

“Perhaps I don’t understand. What is out to eat?”

“You’re right. It would be hard to take her out to eat on this ship with the only food being served in the mess hall…” She’s deep in thought. “You could ask Maddie to fix you two something special. You could have it brought to another place, like medbay, which would suck because it’s so sterile. You could do it in your room, which might seem... like you assume she’s going to…”

“You’re right,” I interrupt. That would be poor manners on either of our planets.

“The ludus is huge and impersonal... How about the solarium in the empty wing? We could move a small table and chairs in there. It’s good manners on Earth for you to pull out her chair for her, then seat yourself. You could watch the stars with Nova. Very romantic.”

I freeze for a moment, both panicked and instantly aroused. When I inspect Grace’s expression, though, I think I may have misunderstood. “I think that last word translated badly. Did you mean to say intercourse?”

“No. That’s absolutely not what romantic means. It means sweet and meaningful; women love that. It’s when a guy shows the woman she’s important to him and he dresses up and arranges the date with care. You could do all those things for Nova.”

“I’m certain Maddie would make us something special to eat.” I’m excited and full of hope that I can accomplish this. “I already have that awful suit you found for me in the abandoned wing, I could dress up. Perhaps Petra could cut my hair…”

“Might I suggest, Dr. Drayke, that you leave your hair?”

“I’ve let it get too long. I’ve been distracted. It’s not a respectful length to court a female.”

“Dr. Drayke, every woman on board has mentioned how great your hair looks. Let me suggest more firmly; don’t cut it.”

My hand reaches to my hair, currently tied in a bunch at the nape of my neck. I’m embarrassed. “Every woman on board?”

“Earth girls talk, Drayke. Be lucky you aren’t privy to everything we say. All I’ll tell you is... we all think your hair is hot.”

I’ve seen the females blush, their pale skin turns pink. Blue-skinned Dacians aren’t capable of blushing, but if we did, I would be fuchsia right now.

“I had no idea.”

“Let’s keep it a secret. You don’t have to divulge to any of the women that I tattled.” Grace has a happy smile on her face.

“Okay, it’s our secret.” It’s so good to see Grace relax and have fun. She’s so much happier now that she’s mated to Tyree.

I find Maddie and make arrangements for dinner. I ensure there will be no soup and nothing for Nova to cut. I’m certain that would embarrass her. I hurry back to medbay with enough breakfast for four hungry people.

Nova

I startle myself awake, realize I’m in medbay on the Lazy Slacker , then immediately reach over for the doctor. He’s not there, thank goodness. Oh my God, what was I thinking last night? My brain runs a quick replay of everything that happened, from my brazen request he join me in bed to the most blazing, sensual kiss I could ever imagine.

Had he pressured the slightest bit, I would have opened myself to him. I have no doubt he was as turned on as I was. But he didn’t make a move, not the slightest hint of impropriety. I initially pegged him as a villain, but I’ve reassessed. He’s a quality male.

But sexual attraction or not, I’ve got to put that behind me. My life on Earth was stolen from me. I’ve lived the last two years in abject fear as if every day might be my last. Now I’ve gotten a reprieve, it’s as if I’ve been reborn. I have to make the most of it. I can’t just hook up with the first male who isn’t beating me up or threatening me. Just because he’s kind and great looking doesn’t mean I have to be consumed with him

I need to focus on myself and my healing. This arm is going to require a great deal of physical therapy. I’ll need a lot of mental healing as well. You can’t live in a cell as someone else’s property and be forced to fight for your very existence, and then waltz out of that life with no residual effects.

I’m going to have to discover who I am when I’m not a slave being ordered about. I’m going to have to find a way to be of help onboard this ship, my new home. I need to discover tiny, mundane things about myself I’ve never been given the chance to find out, like what I really want for breakfast, or when I want to turn the lights out at night. This seems like such a challenge and like child’s play at the same time.

Okay world, get ready for Nova; here I come. The appealing Dr. Drayke and all his charms are officially in my rearview mirror.

Of course, he has to choose this very moment to knock on the door. When he enters, he’s got a tray heaped with breakfast.

“Maddie says it’s ‘almost human food’ she picked up on Bellona. She says you’ll love it unless you are a ‘veteran’.”

“Veteran?”

“Yes, she explained it. A veteran is someone who doesn’t eat flesh or eggs.”

Oh, vegetarian! He’s so freaking adorable I can’t stand it.

“I’m liking this Maddie person, when do I get to meet her?”

“We’ve got work to do in medbay for the rest of the morning. There’s a new chemical compound I read about that’s supposed to speed healing in a limb reattachment by up to twenty percent. Then we’re going to lunch in the dining room. You’ll meet Maddie and most everyone else on the ship... unless that sounds like too much? You don’t have to. Perhaps it was a bad idea?”

He’s so concerned about my comfort. Something tells me he might not be this solicitous with all his patients.

“How’s your pain? Do you need another shot?”

I gingerly tap the surgical site over the gauze wrapping, then wince. Before I even ask for something, he’s typing instructions into his medpad. The medbot has a great bedside manner and numbs the injection site right before it administers the shot—painless.

“Help me out, could you tell me what I’m supposed to call you? Everyone calls you doc or doctor or Dr. Drayke or Drayke. After last night... the doctor stuff seems a bit formal.”

“How thoughtless of me. Call me Drayke, Nova. I’m sorry I didn’t offer sooner.”

“No biggie. So what’s this new procedure you have in store for me?”

He invites me into his lab and begins doing the whole mad scientist beaker-and-ingredient-thing. Flashes of the old black and white Frankenstein movie pop into my head. He suddenly looks up and it’s like the first time he’s ever laid eyes on me.

“You’re almost naked,” he says with as much amazement as if he just discovered the formula for nuclear fusion.

“I’m actually not almost naked, I’m wearing a very sexy hospital gown.” Funny how some things at the other end of the galaxy are so different from Earth, and other things, like this crappy hospital gown, are just as homely and well-ventilated as they are a million miles away.

“Would you like some clothes?”

“That would be wonderful. Got some?”

“I’m certain one of the women could find you some leggings, that’s what they all wear. Let’s see how this procedure goes before we exchange your lab gown for something less accessible.”

Now his eyes are doing a mental inventory of me. Inspecting me up and down. He’s gotten very quiet and I can see his Adam’s apple bobbing. His face gets pinched; it’s clear he’s struggling with something.

“Don’t worry about the clothes, Drayke. I’m fine in the gown. I’ve fought naked in front of huge crowds dozens of times. This is positively modest.”

His face becomes even tighter, the bobbing Adam’s apple accelerates and a soft groan escapes his lips. His gaze returns to the beaker in his hand, but he’s not moving. His throat is still convulsing.

“Drayke, you okay?”

He clears his throat, then slowly meets my eyes. “I’m very attracted to you, Nova. Very…” Long pause, this clearly isn’t easy for him. “When I think of all those males seeing you without clothes…” He shuts his eyes for a moment and shudders. “I want to burn the stadium to the ground.”

It would strike me as funny if he wasn’t so damned earnest. He’s such a gentle male, more brains than brawn. And yet here he is, directing all his male aggression at people who saw me naked. It warms my heart. I’ve never been on the receiving end of anyone’s protective instincts. I know it shouldn’t, but this makes me feel safe. I want to bask in this emotion, yet the idea of trusting anyone to take care of me chills me to the marrow.

I draw my thoughts back to the conversation. “Those days are over, Drayke. I’m not looking back. Maybe you shouldn’t either.”

Dr. Drayke sun Omrun

My cock is so hard it could dent the metal lab table. I’ve got the loincloth bound so tightly it’s cutting off my circulation. Luckily Nova hasn’t noticed that I’ve done the same experiment three times, but had to repeat it because I’ve measured incorrectly. I can’t keep my thoughts on anything but her.

Because of the bonding, all of my senses are more acute. Lord God Anteros certainly knew what he was doing when he created my species. Everything happening with me right now is in service to the continued procreation of the race.

My sense of smell is keener so I can smell her from three rooms away. My sight is more astute so I can drink in each detail of her face and expressions, as well as appreciate every inch of her female form. My body is on fire for her every minute of the day. The only respite my cock has given me was when I napped last night.

I can’t fathom how I can endure this for even a few more days, much less weeks. I glance at her expression and see I’m scaring her. She must know something is wrong. I pull my attention back to the chemicals on the counter and try to make the solution correctly this time.

Nova

I think Drayke has a major crush on me. Come to think of it, I’m developing one on him, too. But I’ve got other, more important things to focus on. I need to do everything in my power to heal my arm. Drayke is failing at this experiment. I think I’m distracting him.

“Let me know when you need me,” I tell him as I wander into the adjoining exam room.

About an hour later he calls me into the lab.

“I’ve made the chemical compound and formulated it into a salve. I’ve double-checked everything; it’s made correctly. I applied it to my own skin; it seems harmless. The worst it could do is nothing. Want to try it?”

“Sure, if it’ll make me heal faster.”

I sit next to him and he cuts off the thick gauze bandage, then grabs some of the yellowish goo to apply to the shockingly gross wound. He seems to think better of it.

“Perhaps you should rub this on, Nova. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

I’m paralyzed. I just sit here and swallow. Even thinking of touching the puckered red flesh disgusts me. I’ve fought huge muscular gladiators in the open sands of many arenas, but crap, I’m incapable of doing this.

“I can’t,” I croak out in a whisper. “I don’t want to touch it.”

He looks at me with true compassion, then moves into action. He puts on a glove, just like on Earth, and gently applies the salve.

“Thanks, Drayke. That didn’t hurt at all.”

He looks relieved.

“When will this feeling go away? I find my own arm... repulsive.”

He reaches out, almost strokes my hair, then snatches his hand back. “I know we’ve only recently met, but I’m beginning to know who you are. You’re strong, Nova. I’m certain you’ll get most or possibly all of your mobility and dexterity back. You’ll just look, what do the females call it? Badass. You’ll look badass, Nova.”

I laugh. The way he pronounced it sounded like a bad Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation. Bahd ahss.

“You’re right, doc. I’ll look bahd ahss.”

All of a sudden I’m swept with gratitude. I could have lost my life on Bellona. But instead, I’m safe from a future of forced battle. I’m surrounded by a crew of strangers willing to help me, no questions asked.

I’m a free woman on a fast ship with a bunch of nice people. I’m safe for the moment and my arm has been reattached by a good doctor. They tell me I’ll never have to fight again unless I want to, which I don’t—ever.

I start mentally designing a Bahd Ahss armband tattoo to camouflage the scar. I’ve never had a tattoo before, but I promise myself I’ll get one the next planet we touchdown on.

G race showed up at medbay with a couple pair of black leggings and a few extra-large T-shirts. The dress is pretty casual around here, I’m certainly not underdressed.

Drayke walked me to the mess hall, got to within twenty feet of the door, then hurriedly told me he forgot something in the lab. His lip was curled, and if I didn’t know better I’d think he was growling. I know something was wrong, but he bolted before I could ask.

There are too many new people to meet. Granted, I’d already been introduced to Grace and a few of the other women. The dash to the ship after my arm was cut off is a total blur. Even though I saw some of these huge alien males, I can’t recall anything about them.

I’ve been on countless planets since my abduction from Earth; I think I’ve seen most of these species before. There’s the male whose skin looks like silver metal, the hulk whose neck is as thick around as my waist, the huge, pale Norse God, and others. There’s a lot of battle scars among them—what you’d expect from a bunch of gladiators.

I’m more comfortable with the males than the females. I’ve spent my life in the company of fighting males, and the last two years rubbing elbows with a bunch of alien gladiators like these. I can swear in twenty different languages. I know how to elbow my way to the food in any mess hall.

I know nothing about prom dresses or lipstick or chick flicks. I suddenly feel inadequate to carry on a conversation with any of the Earth girls.

“Hi, I’m Petra,” a tiny woman with cotton candy pink hair says as she sits across from me at my table.

“Hi,” I say. Why do I sound shy?

“We’re so glad you came out of that alive.” She pointedly glances at my gauze-covered arm. “Dax can’t quit bragging about how brave and strong you are. Glad to have you aboard.” She gives me genuine smile.

A huge, muscled guy with a prosthetic arm and carrying a tray piled with food comes to sit next to her.

“Girls only today, Shadow.” She smiles at him sweetly. “I imagine poor Nova’s had enough gladiator swearing and farting and bragging for a while.” He lets out a grunt around the roll stuffed in his mouth, then shambles over to another table without a word of protest.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sometimes we girls just need a little female energy. I do hair. I might even give you a mani-pedi if you ask real nice.” She laughs.

I’m not sure what to make of her. She’s so happy and full of energy. I touch my hair with my good hand. “Does it look terrible?”

“No. Actually it’s in great shape, thick and shiny. Maybe they actually put something nutritious in those shitty-tasting bars they fed us when we were in captivity. I was just offering to style it if you’re in the mood for something different.”

“I’m in the mood for something different in every way possible, Petra. I’m trying to put the last two years in my rear-view mirror. Thanks for the offer.”

Several other women join us. Everyone is kind and interested in how I’m doing. They all express concern about my arm.

Maddie brings a plate directly to my table. Everything is already cut for me. She’s super nice in a motherly way. She informs me the meat on my plate “tastes like chicken,” and winks. One thing I’ve found in the years since I left Earth, nothing tastes like chicken.

After lunch, the room clears out fast. Grace approaches me and says Drayke asked her to accompany me back to medbay.

“Do you want the full tour of the ship on the way back?”

“Thanks, but my head is spinning with all the introductions. I think I’ve seen enough for today. I’m already on overload. I’m sure I’ll see everything in a day or two. To be honest, my arm is throbbing. I guess I overdid it.”

“Okay, let’s just take it nice and easy and get you back to your bed.”

“Can I ask you a few things?” There was a lot of information I picked up during lunch. Now I have more questions than answers.

“Sure, shoot.”

“If I got things straight, it’s been a little over two months since all you females were abducted, right?”

“Yes, everyone but Petra, who came on about three weeks after the rest of us.”

“So, maybe I’m wrong, but it seemed like everyone at lunch was paired up except for me. How did everything move so fast? Is it like speed dating or what?”

Grace’s steps slow, she thinks for a long moment. “There were ten gladiators on this ship, all slaves, on their way to auction. Their captors abducted ten females and randomly threw one of us into each of their cells. Within half an hour we were ordered to... have intercourse with our cellmate upon threat of them activating our pain/kill collars. Everyone got up-close-and-personal in very short order.”

“So everyone’s a part of a couple?”

“Not exactly. Even though the ‘couples’ still sit together at dinner and maybe still have sex, they maintain separate quarters. Most people are still figuring out if it’s true attraction or just proximity. Tyree and I are mates, as are Zar and Anya, as well as Shadow and Petra.”

Not everything she says makes sense. “So Zar became the Captain after the insurrection, Axxios became pilot, and Drayke…?”

Her face goes on lockdown, her pace quickens and she speeds ahead. “You should probably ask him about that, Nova. Here we are, medbay. I’ll see you later.” She dashes off without a backward glance.