K’avir was unconscious, laid out in the sunny clearing. While he pummeled her, Sheila held on to K’avir’s face, watching his eyes, looking for that tell-tale sign that he was going to climax. That was the only way she could get control of things; if she got on top the moment he came, then she wouldn’t get stuck. The second he stiffened, ready to blow, she scissored him and rolled. She rode him and drew from the dwindling well of her strength to bring him to orgasm. He, caught in a mental precipice, was unable to stop her. K’avir snarled as his climax hit. It was hard; he trembled as his eyes rolled and he seemed to deflate as he creamed her. Sheila put her hands on his bare chest and breathed steadily, holding still, amazed at the amount of semen he produced. She was going to need a bath.
He passed out and his head hit the ground with a thud. Not wasting a second, Sheila got up and trotted back to her clothes that she left drying on some branches. Semen ran down the insides of her legs, but she had a plan and she didn’t know how much time she would have to execute it. The bath would come when the plan was in place. She slipped into her skirt and put on her halter while stepping into her boots. Then she turned in a circle, waiting for the rash of beeps that noted the direction she needed to travel in. Once she was oriented, Sheila took off at full gallop, headed back towards the tree she hid in before K’avir arrived. The semen dried to sticky blobs on the inside of her thighs and she was covered in sweat. She desperately wanted to bathe, but she had to carry out her mission as soon as she could. She needed time.
Ten minutes later, Sheila was jumping out of the tree with her pack on her back, an energy bar between her teeth, and her handheld stuck in her cleavage. Again, she thanked Gerri; the woman’s detailed research on the Taini gave Sheila a superlative edge and a workable plan. The trek back to her husband was fairly easy; two hills and a short sprint across a section of rainforest, and she was back at the clearing. K’avir was still naked and unconscious, spread out on the grass crucifixion-style. She knelt beside him and caressed his cheek, staring at him with adoration in her eyes.
“I love you,” she said and bent to kiss his forehead. Sheila paused for a moment before removing her backpack. She dug around in the bag and retrieved one of the specially prepared tranquilizers designed to keep K’avir unconscious for a couple of hours. Lt. Nyx encouraged Sheila to make the tranqs as strong as possible; she didn’t need to worry about killing or harming K’avir. The hormones raging in his blood wouldn’t allow it. Sheila pressed the hypo against his carotid and injected him. Then she grabbed a small box, removed a tiny little round transmitter and then stuck it behind the pinna of K’avir’s right ear. It would track his movements on her handheld. Then Sheila kissed his lips and took off, headed towards her haven.
Sheila stumbled into her hidden alcove, out of breath. She ached all over and she needed to tend to herself and get some sleep. The length of a day on Razmou Ohndrii was about 26 hours, according to Gerri’s research. Sheila had no idea how long the sun was going to remain up, but she’d bought herself at least a three-hour break, hopefully four. She didn’t waste any time. She stripped and took a bath in the waterfall, grateful for the warmth of the water. Sheila rubbed her thighs with her hands, wishing she could have brought her soap. But she had to keep her scent as clean as possible to throw K’avir off. Before getting out of the water, she cupped a handful of it against her sore vagina, closing her eyes. She got out of the water and dried herself with a towel. She ripped open her sleep pack and spread the pillow and blanket on the ground. Then she grabbed an analgesic hypo and injected herself before gobbling two granola bars and took a long drink of water from her canteen. As she lay down, she turned her handheld so that she could see it. It would beep when K’avir began to move. She set the alarm for two hours and three minutes later, she was fast asleep.
She dreamed of the beach, of dancing with her husband, barefoot in the sand, the ocean in her ears, the sun a fat glowing disc as it set. He stood, much as he always did, hands by his sides, his amber eyes following every move she made. Sheila danced in circles around K’avir, laughing, spinning happily until she became dizzy. She stumbled, losing her balance and almost face-planted, but he caught her and picked her up. She stared at her beautiful Vulcan and placed her hand on his cheek.
“Sheila,” he said.
The buzz of the alarm woke her up. Sheila looked around, disoriented, trying to remember where she was. She shook her head quickly and recalled everything that took place. Her eyes turned towards the handheld. The dot that represented K’avir still had not moved, and she sighed in relief. But she couldn’t relax, because while she was certain she had two hours, there were no guarantees past that and she had to prepare. So she put her halter and sarong on and frowned at the fact that she had to put back on her soggy utility boots. Sheila grabbed her bandage roll and wrapped her feet to keep them dry. Then she gave herself a nutrient shot and studied the handheld while eating an energy bar, thinking about her next move. She needed a weapon, a trap, something…
She flipped a couple of screens to read Gerri’s summary on the vegetation. Like she suspected, miscapeas and nyhardeas were indeed filled with lots of goodness and were considered exotic aphrodisiacs. She’d make sure to have some on deck for the next encounter. There were other things that she could eat: giimi; a round yellow fruit with orange pods inside, sweet and nutty and packed with protein, nedronna; clusters of fat little juicy white berries full of essential carbohydrates, jhejichi; fleshy purple fruit similar to tomatoes overflowing with vitamins and minerals, and phanalaha; long lavender-pink peppery stalks that contained fiber. A combination of all these would give her everything she needed to carry on, supplemented by her energy bars and nutrient shots. More sleep would be nice, but Sheila had to take what she could get. Sheila filled her canteen with water and checked her bag to make sure that she had her supplies. She checked the handheld; he still had not moved, and put her backpack on.
It was time to go.
The light was bright in his eyes, but the scent was clear. He blinked and rolled over, coming to his feet. He sniffed the air, turning around and around until her fragrance manifested itself as a white light that stood out in the red haze. It was potent, powerful…and he took off, running at top speed…back in the water, crushing it with vigorous strokes…up on the vine, climbing it; hand over hand…the white light growing bigger and brighter…on the ground again, running, oblivious to the branches that slashed his face, leaving thin green weals; it was her, all her, nothing but her, glorious Sheila…and he needed her. He slid on a patch of damp grass, nearly losing his balance but caught himself before making a sharp left turn in the direction where the light was brightest…he was close, close, close…Another scrap of her on the ground; he picked it up and buried his face in it, inhaling deeply, shoving it into his mouth, sucking what he could…but it wasn’t enough…it was a ruse, a ploy, a trick…again.
He heard her laugh; a giggle…a sound only she could make, one that he heard at special times, unique times…the laugh that was just for him and he growled, looking up. She was there, close; he threw the scrap on the ground because she glowed gold, brighter than the sun and he reached for her…she laughed again and started to run from him. She was in Nubian form, nude, bare…her body was glorious and she ran…she ran…she ran…and he ran after her. She giggled again and he reached once more; his fingers missed her shoulder by micrometers…she kept up the pace, running, laughing, just out of his reach, and he gave chase, following his beautiful naked siren through the forest…she laughed and she ran; she avoided, always just out of reach…if he leaned forward, he could get her but she giggled and changed direction, moving with grace, light on her feet; naked…naked…the muscles of her bare bottom clenching and bouncing as she ran…he growled and reached…and she continued to remain just out of it. When she changed direction, he saw the fullness of her breasts, the dark round of her areolae, the beckoning of her rigid nipples and he snarled once more, feral, desperate to have her, focused on nothing but her beautiful dark skin; her luscious thick body…he needed her; he needed Sheila…he needed—
K’avir fell into a deep hole, landing solidly on his back after banging against the sides. He smacked his chin on the lip of the hole and left a raw scrape. He hit his arm against a branch of some sort, and it tore open the skin from the shoulder to the elbow. He didn’t feel it. He got to his feet, shaking his head, confused. He turned around, recognizing where he was and he looked up towards the light. Sheila was there, looking down, and to his amazement, she flickered and blinked, disappearing for a nanosecond before showing herself again; she flickered once more and then seemed to fade before coming back strong. He did not understand at first, for the knowledge was just beyond the haze of his mind and he was already focused on scaling the side of the hole because he had to get to her…he needed to get to her…and he looked up at her once more. She flickered again and again and then faded once more. He roared in frustration and jumped, but the hole was deep…he had to climb. She giggled again and he looked up. Sheila was there, but fading, blinking, flickering…and the knowledge came to him with absolute clarity.
That wasn’t his wife. That was a hologram. She’d set a trap.
“Sheila,” he said, and began to climb.