Worlds of BBW Erotic Romance - Box Set (30 page)

“We really got him,” she said, and turned to Gearon—who was shaking his head to clear it.

“My Lord,” she repeated, “we blasted him to hell. WOOT!” She gave him a double thumbs-up.

He ran to her, embraced her crushingly hard… And she laughed giddily.

“So this is really the end of the journey,” Gearon whispered to her, sounding surprisingly somber. “I told myself I would stop Grommalacht, or die trying. Yet I live--and he has perished. Because of YOU, my dearest Heather.”

“It’s not the end of everything, Mister Debbie Downer,” she scolded him. “Well, ok, yeah, Grommalacht is toast. But OUR journey together has just begun. And I hear that Mekrons live a
very
long time, hmm?”

“Very long, yes,” he replied, smiling now. “And with you at my side, prettiness--I will treasure every moment, every day, every century.”

Heather took them in closer to the buildings. In the area where Grommalacht had been, a few Enpathian ships hovered… Drifting in the air as if dazed. She steered the ship in that direction.

“I want to find a place to land,” she told him. “There has to be a helicopter pad or something on one of those buildings. With luck,
Astral Tryst
will be able to fit. I’m going to bring us in slow, set us down lightly.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Gearon nodded. “You have a very light touch.”

“I mean—let’s deploy the landing wings, yes?” She ran her hands along the control panel in front of her, finding the delicate lavender-shaded curves that looked like decorative designs--but which actually activated the ship’s largest set of wings, normally hidden away.

“The ship… she has specialized landing wings?” Gearon asked. “All of this time, and yet I never discovered that feature.”

Heather smiled wryly. “The ship showed me. They really didn’t teach you anything, did they, hon? I suppose because the female is supposed to pilot the ship… You just fire your big gun.”

“But I have a rather sizeable gun and highly accurate aim, yes?” he boasted.

She smiled. “Oh baby… don’t I know it!”

She pulled back the “camera” view on the main screen so that they could see the wings unfolding. Giant, fibrous fingers were extruded from the sides of the ship. A weave of energy soon materialized between them to become the fabric of iridescent, moth-like wings with wide span dwarfing the ship itself, the trailing rear wings of the ship now seeming to form a “tail” to complement them.

Heather looked for a place to land. There was a huge platform of silver-black metal, flat except for where it was attached to the upper stories of the buildings around it, where it kind of gooped onto them, as if it had been melted into place. An Enpathian creation, to be sure; this had been where Grommalacht had stood moments before…

There were a few Enpathian ships now landing on the platform, and the pale forms of Enpathians themselves were scattered about--some lying unmoving, others crouching or kneeling…   

“They are stunned, I believe,” Gearon said.  “The loss of Grommalacht has caused them shock. Still, perhaps we ought to avoid this area?”

Heather shook her head. “I’m worried about Jessam. I’ve been trying to contact her and she’s not answering on any frequencies.”

“You are concerned about Jessam’s well-being?” Gearon asked, puzzled.

“She saved our asses more than once. Your firm posterior in particular, hun. I feel like I owe her, if nothing else.”

“Prettiness, I do not know if it is safe. At least, allow me to go by myself, yes?” He placed his hands protectively on her shoulders. His hands, still so strong and big—not but
quite
as big relative to her as they had once been.

Heather slitted her eyes and stared up at him.

You stubborn lunk, she thought. Your concern is touching, but we’re wasting time…

“So who’s in charge, here, anyway?” she growled. She surprised herself… She hadn’t meant to sound that fierce. Her voice was now different… like her own voice had always been and yet louder, more resonant.

Just like the voice in my head, she thought. Yeah, the new Heather’s coming through, baby…

Gearon
took a step back. He looked down, flustered. “My Lady, I’m sorry,” he said.

Again, just as before, he didn’t seem to want to submit to her--but there was something that made him react this way. Some conditioning…

Oh my God!
She should have guessed it from the visions. In a way, she’d already instinctively known.

That
devious bastard.

No wonder he’d been so bold with her, manhandling her… His curvy little Earth girl… He’d never have gotten away with that with a woman of his
own
race.

“Gearon,” she asked him, “On Mekron… Who was in charge?”

“Who?” he asked. “My Lady, do you mean which persons, or groups or…”

“Which
gender?”
she clarified. “Men or women… Hmm?”

He looked at her with his eyes simmering. “Females. The House of Ladies controlled the government, and the Lords served them. Mekron Ladies have always been known for their… dominant instincts, yes?”

Dominant instincts?

Yeah,
she thought, I feel that now.

She had a new focus, her mind no longer going in fifteen directions at once like it always had. Her old anxieties were gone… She felt
powerful.
Though a little impatient. And ready to kick ass, if need be.

“And the males would submit and do as they were told?” she asked, continuing.

He nodded with an unhappy grunt. “Yes, my Lady.”

“But not you? Or at least you never were happy with the arrangement?”

“No,” he replied. “My nature is in rebellion against such servitude, I believe.”

And yet… He had desired to be Bonded with her, had known that her becoming Mekron might well bring out aggressive instincts in her. Hadn’t he even told her, during the Bonding ritual, that he would love her no matter what happened--or what changed?

She turned to him, gently stroked one stubbled cheek. “My Lord, I DO feel different. A little… Well, let’s just say I never understood those women who had bumper stickers saying
‘I’m a bitch, deal with it!’
and stuff like that—but now I kinda get it. But you don’t have to bow to me or serve me to make me happy. I love you, you’re my husband, Bond-Mate, partner. We work
together,
okay?”

She kissed him gently, and he returned the kiss with surprising tenderness.

“But I should allow you to do the planning, yes?” he said, sighing. “I’m not the best qualified in the leadership department, truthfully.”

He has a point,
said the bitch-warrior-domme voice in her head. He’s a man of action, but let’s leave the real decisions to the Lady, yes?

“However, my love,”
he continued, “I will be there to watch over and protect you, always. And… In the privacy of our chambers… I will ALWAYS take charge in pleasing you.”

“That suits me just fine,” she told him, stroking the delectable, hard curves of his pecs and feeling the bluish curls of man-hair rooted there.

She set the ship down in the middle of the platform. The Enpathians scattered around—the ones who were conscious, anyway—barely paid them any heed.

Are they like addicts forced to go cold turkey?,
she wondered. Cut off their Grommalacht supply and… wham!

Gearon took the lead as they made ready to exit the ship. He retrieved two silvery pistols from an overhead compartment, similar to the “hair dryer” looking gun Heather had used on the scout bike. He tucked one of the guns into the waistband of his own jeans, and gave the other to Heather, along with a lightweight holster that she wore at her waist.

Ah, a silver zap-gun, the perfect accessory to the space hooker outfit, she thought.

But something in her now really enjoyed the idea of having a weapon at her side. Gearon would protect her, but a girl couldn’t rely entirely on her man…

They passed through the momentary moist wetness of the biofilter membrane, and were soon out of the airlock and outside the ship.

Gearon walked a few paces in front of her, and it was he who first saw her…

“Jessam,” he said, pointing towards a sitting figure about three hundred feet away.

They made their way towards her. As they got closer, it became apparent that she was holding someone else in her lap. Another Enpathian…

Was this one naked? And there was something terribly familiar…

OH NO.

Heather couldn’t believe it.

It was HIM!
Grommalacht!

Or, at least, the effeminate Enpathian dude who had been inside Grommalacht… No longer burning with blinding energy, though.

He just looked like a skinny Enpathian male now, naked and shivering like a sick child in Jessam’s lap, his long white hair hanging limply over her arm. She stroked his forehead and whispered something soothing to him.

Gearon growled in anger, steeping forward, and Heather reached for her own pistol.

“No,” Jessam told them, her pale eyes pleading, her voice oddly calm, “he is harmless now. He cannot hurt anyone. I did not expect that he would survive this, but he has… barely. His telepathic abilities are lost, perhaps forever. But he does live.”

“Then we are responsible for finishing this now, yes?” Gearon hissed.

Heather nodded. “Yes, my Lord. This… person?... is responsible for how many deaths? Harmless or not, this is done. HE is done. Jessam, move away. NOW.”

Heather raised her silver pistol…

Jessam shot Heather a disgusted look.  “After all I did for you, you do not even allow me a few moments to explain? Gearon would listen to me, Heather, but you… Violent, impatient? I suppose you’ve inherited the worst traits of the Mekron matriarchs!”

Heather holstered her pistol. “All right, I’m sorry. You’re right… It doesn’t make sense that you’d help us only to betray us now.”

But man… she’d been ready to fire away, filled with righteous indignation, set to play judge, jury and executioner right there. She wanted to believe that was the Mekron aggression surging in her, clouding her judgment… But she really wasn’t sure of that at all.

She placed a hand on Gearon’s arm to signal to him to relax.

“Grommalacht is indeed dead,” Jessam continued. “That entity was an extension of a single Enpathian telepath… this man. He sacrificed his normal existence long ago in order to serve as a link for all of our people, a guide for peace and enlightenment. He was courageous and the greatest hero of my people.”

“Yeah,” Heather sighed. “Yada yada, I’ve heard this story before. Grommalacht was lovely and wonderful and everyone had hippy-dippy funtimes until his belly started rumbling and he started eating the minds of entire planets, right?”

“More or less correct, yes,” Jessam said. “But that was not supposed to happen. Grommalacht somehow became corrupted, and the hunger ensnared the Enpathian people as well. It was not planned--it was an unforeseen tragedy.”

“But WHY did it happen, then?” Heather asked. “The buffet of brains was just too tempting for him, or what?”

The Enpathian man in Jessam’s lap stirred, and his pale grey eyes opened slowly and rolled up to assess Heather. “It was… a simple… mistake,” he croaked. “As I… prepared… for the ceremony to become Grommalacht… I decided… to focus my mind…”

“On what? Fish tacos, cheesy tots… red velvet cupcakes, maybe? Something got your tummy rumbling, right?”

Jessam glared at Heather. “He is weak, but he is trying to explain. Heather, please allow him to speak.”

“No,” the man said, looking to Jessam, “she is… almost… correct.” He breathed deeply, before continuing: “To focus, I decided… to fast. No food for several days before. When I entered the chamber for the conversion… my body hungered. I did not think the needs of my body would be of any more concern, and yet… When I became Grommalacht, the hunger remained. Insatiable. Then, the hunger drove… Oh Gods, so much wrong, so much killing! UNNNH!!!”

As if overcome by the memories which had suddenly flooded over him, he groaned and collapsed, limp in Jessam’s arms again.

Heather couldn’t believe it.

All of this had
really
happened because of his empty stomach?

“This whole mess was because the guy was NEEDING OF A SAMMICH?” she cried.

Jessam ignored her, leaning over the unconscious one in her lap.

“He breathes,” Jessam said. “He is exhausted. He needs healing, nutrients and water, but I believe he will recover.”

“So what will you do now?” Heather asked Jessam.

“I’m taking him with me, and we’re going far away,” Jessam explained. “Away from anyone who might seek misguided vengeance against him… And away from all of the pain and killing that stains our history.”

“You’re running away?” Heather asked.

“In a matter of speaking, yes. But what else would we do—stick around and make a formal apology to the civilized galaxy? Heather, you know I did what I could to stop the killing, to save you and Gearon. Give me this. My freedom, and allow me to take him…” she nodded towards the male in her arms. “Demand no more sacrifices, please.”