1. A story involving Harper/Tyr/and unknown (or known) male Nietzscheans.
2. Dylan being held captive by dominant female aliens.
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I took challenge 2
Technically the 'holding' part of being held captive didn't last, but the 'held' happened. I can always write it agai if McJude's unhappy :)
Nudity, Violence, Implied Maiming...
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Adventure Holiday
Dylan eased back into consciousness and took stock of his surroundings. He was in a clearing: the sun shone down through a gap in the jungle canopy created by the wide, shallow stream and exaggerated by the gap left by a fallen tree. The vegetation was consistent with what he had seen of the beach, so it was likely that he was inland on the same island. He wouldn’t make the assumption, though.
The lump on the back of his head started throbbing, making its presence known. He remembered climbing up the ridge back to his tent with the fish he had speared in the shallow-water cove. That was his last memory.
He gently nursed the lump with one hand. He wanted to sleep but he knew he had to stay awake.
“Information. I need information,” he muttered to himself. Tools. He had arranged for Andromeda to drop him on the planet with only a knife, a tent and rations. He’d insisted on the bare minimum.
He sat up to look for his knife, and realized he was naked. The realization got his blood flowing, though, and his mind started to clear away the drowsiness. He stood up. He wasn’t tied up, and his assailant was nowhere to be seen. “Well, I was hoping for a surprise on my vacation…” His attempt to make light of the situation failed, and his voice left behind a conspicuous quiet until his ears adjusted and picked up the soft sound of the stream flowing its course towards the sea.
The stream and the sun were all Dylan had. Once he’d left enough time to judge the position of the sun in the sky, he could travel in the right direction to the eastern coast, where he’d been dropped. Thank God for type III orbits…
Something small and hard hit him in the back and landed in the patch of moss he’d been lying on. He turned around.
“Over here,” a woman’s voice called out from straight ahead. Dylan strained his eyes, but couldn’t see anything until she moved, standing at the top of the steep bank the stream had formed. It was a humanoid female: very human in appearance, apart from her skin. Her complexion was dark green - dark brown and black in some places - and it gave off a velvety sheen as she moved in the sunlight.
Dylan’s eyes scanned her for weapons. Her cured leather clothing was sparse and skin tight, and her hair was slicked back. There was nowhere for her to hide a firearm, and she was smaller than Rommie. Dylan felt slightly awkward at his nakedness, but he maintained his composure and the exposure built up the pride in his speech.
“My name is captain Dylan Hunt of the Sys…”
“We don’t care what your name is,” another voice cut in. Dylan turned around. Another woman lay spread-eagled on a flat rock in the middle of the stream, basking under the sunlight. He wouldn’t have seen her but for her brown leather clothing – her skin and hair had changed to blend in perfectly with the grey-blue rock.
“You’re trespassing on our territory.” The first woman said. Dylan turned back to face her.
“I’m sorry,” the woman was approaching him, climbing down the embankment on all fours. “I hope I didn’t make the wrong impression…”
“He doesn’t get it!” A third woman appeared on the bank upstream. She was armed with a sling, spinning it loosely at her side. She stopped approaching, paused, and then spun forwards; launching the stone from her sling at a brutal speed. Dylan half-flinched, half-ducked and the bullet whistled past his ear. Another slammed into his side and he yelled reflexively, then glared at the girl who had been lying on the rock. She was standing in the stream now; an empty sling hanging limp against her leg and water flowing about her ankles. The skin on her ankles changed colour to match the algae that coated the streambed.
Another stone slammed into the lump on the back of his head, and he stumbled forward towards the stream. His vision started to darken and he collapsed onto all fours, shaking his head to drive away the murkiness. The sound of the women laughing at him echoed inside his head.
“Run, fool!” He heard another stone rip through the air and tear into his upper arm. It gave way and he collapsed further. Panic set in and he scrambled to his feet and ran downstream along the bank. He heard a cheer behind him, and counting… counting down. The stream’s bank was rocky and the rocks offered smooth purchase for his bare feet.
He looked over his shoulder. They were out of sight, but the counting had stopped. He slipped while he was looking back and fell against a large rock. Almost immediately a small stone slammed into his back. He cried out, his muscles tensed and he leapt up onto his feet and started running again.
“He’s not fast enough,” one of them said. Dylan
heard another stone whistling towards him and he hunched. It flew
over his head and
continued for some distance ahead of him. He took
heart from their first miss and picked up speed for a few seconds until
another stone slammed into the back of his knee and knocked his leg out
from under him just as it was about to land. He slipped and fell
sideways into the stream.
It was then, as the shallow water gently washed his wounds, that he decided to stop running. He slipped into a semi-conscious state and lay on his back, raising one knee – the good one – to try to hide his nakedness. They were watching him, but he didn’t know where they were until they were standing directly over him.
“Well, he won’t make a good labourer.”
“He’s too slow and too stupid.”
One of them stooped and pulled his hand from his groin with surprising strength. She grabbed his dick with her other hand. It reacted immediately. She squeezed and pinched it until it stopped growing. Dylan managed an appreciative groan.
“That’s pathetic.” The woman stood and kicked his balls dismissively.
“We don’t have any females in his species to breed him with anyway.”
“I wonder if the perseids would eat him.”
“Why feed them? They’ll just chatter more and work less.”
“Let’s just take these for a trophy and release him.” Dylan felt one of them toeing his balls again. There was a pause.
“I agree.”
“Alright.”
One of the women straddled Dylan’s chest and her stinging slap against his cheek roused him. He stared up at her velvet green face.
“When you wake up, you’ll be back on the beach where we found you. Stay there until your friends come back to get you. Goodnight!” She smiled at him, then placed a small, firm hand over his face and slammed his head against the streambed.
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