7. Playing Doctor

The constant buzz of my tattoo machine becomes a soothing white noise, heightening my concentration. Every stroke matters, especially the delicate purple lines, as a single mistake could jeopardize the line-work of my current design.

"You know that's forever, right?" my grandmother says.

But Grandma has been dead for years.

When I turn my head, there's no sturdy woman glaring disapprovingly at me. Oddly enough, the smell of her hairspray lingers in the air. Her hairstyle remained unchanged, with its smooth and lacquered appearance, since before I was born. She always smelled faintly of Aqua Net.

As I gaze back at my work, I notice the swirling purple mark gradually forming into a distinct shape. With my palm as the canvas, the jab of the needles in my machine is more than a dull ache. I use a clean cloth to carefully wipe away the excess ink from my skin.

A tingling sensation courses through the vortex etched on my hand, as if it's awakening. The marks on my body ignite, sending waves of searing heat through my flesh. With the flickering flames of the tiny campfire cradled in my palm, I press it against my chest, feeling its pulsing heat—I want its warmth despite the pain.

* * *

I shoot up in the bed, my breath coming in quick gasps—it was only a dream.

I stare at my tattoo, the mating sting that Kitaico marked me with. For the first few weeks after my abduction, I used to dream of Grandma every night, the only enduring link to Earth my mind could summon. It was always her tight embraces that made me feel safe, or the aroma of a hot tater tot hot dish, as she poured me a glass of wine in her cozy apartment kitchen.

You know that's forever, right?

Just like a tattoo, I have a feeling this mark will be difficult to remove. But forever? Maybe Kitaico could tell me how to do it…but would he be upset that I want to know if the mark will disappear? Would I even be able to get my point across?

I scan the cave, looking for my yellow protector, but he's nowhere to be found.

I seriously doubt there are any hidden spaces I don't know about in here, but that doesn't stop me from crawling out of the bed and pulling back the curtain to his storage space.

As I pull back the fabric, I'm greeted with the slightly pungent odor of stores of dried fish, woven mats, a strange purple fruit, and various primitive tools. The space is packed full, and there's no sign of Kitaico or any secret spaces.

So, the big yellow softie really left me here, even with all his claims of being my protector against the dangers of his world.

My heart thumps in my chest. Even though there's no imminent threat, it doesn't mean my brain doesn't instantly start catastrophizing.

But outside that nearby entry, just beyond its swirling blue waters, lies some scary shit.

Giant scorpion-whale-shark thing? Check. Horned-up exiled aliens that want nothing more than me in heat? Double check. Currents that I doubt I can maneuver well enough to get to the surface? Triple check.

I don't know what to do, so I sit on the edge of the bed and pull my knees against my chest. How have I become so utterly reliant on a near stranger? Sweat begins to collect at the back of my legs.

The water at the entrance ripples, and I brace myself for what is surely a terrifying sex-crazed alien exile to burst through the pool.

But instead, it's just Kitaico. He pulls himself up onto the cave ledge using his elbows—his arms full of soft-looking purple puffs. Despite the lack of use of his arms, Kitaico stumbles only slightly as he rises to his feet. The impressive muscles of his core engage as he stands to his full height, towering above me. I let my eyes trail his body as the rivulets of water stream down into the defined vee of his hips.

My arms swing wide around his body, and his yellow skin shifts to a deep blue. I'd like to think I'm only hugging him because I'm relieved, but as my fingers slide down his lats muscles, I know it's just an excuse to touch him.

"Leeenuh, are you alright?" he asks as he drops the spongy things in his arms. He clasps my chin in his hand and tilts my head up to meet his gaze.

"I'm okay, really." I relax my jaw and lean back, realizing that I've let my anxiety get the better of me. "Where were you?"

"I didn't think you'd wake up before I returned. I was just collecting torun right outside the door. I would never leave you unprotected—never."

Kitaico sets his jaw, letting his hands fall from my face to my sides as he pulls me closer.

The warmth coming from his slick skin is surprising, and I can't help but cuddle myself into him.

I'm lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The second his restrained tentacles begin to wiggle at my sides, I'm snapped from the momentary daze.

I step back, much to Kitaico's disappointment. The loss of his body heat is jarring.

I shouldn't give him the wrong idea though, right?

Hell, I don't want to give my own body any ideas, despite how nice he feels.

And that's probably for the best because my jump off the bed has agitated my already angry vag. My thighs chafe against the raw skin between my legs when I walk.

"You're still injured. Don't move," he says.

Before I can parse what's happening, he's carefully lifting me off the ground and cradling me in his arms.

"I'm perfectly fine to walk—put me down, Kitaico!" I yelp, batting at his chest.

Only when we return to the bed does he gently lay me on my back.

"Stay there," he says, going back to his curtain-covered stores.

He returns with the shell of salve from earlier, and I reach for the medicine.

But Kitaico pulls it back.

"If you'll allow me, I'd like to ensure you aren't getting an infection. I don't know if you're more susceptible to the environment here than I am."

I raise my brows, realizing that he's asking me to put my rug-burnt pussy on display.

"Kitaico, really, it's not that bad?—"

"I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." He frowns.

Despite my all-consuming embarrassment at the idea of him slathering my pussy in medicine, I also know that he's probably right. I really have no idea how my human body will react to this new environment.

"Fine," I tell him. I part my legs and give him the access he wants.

I stare at him as his camouflage ripples and his breath catches slightly in his throat.

"Leeenuh, this must be incredibly painful…I'm so sorry," he mutters.

"It's probably not as bad as it looks."

"Will you allow me to apply the salve? I fear you might miss something if you do it yourself again. The coverage doesn't seem very even. The skin where it was applied properly seems to fare much better than the rest."

He wants to touch my pussy.

"You want to touch me…here?" I ask him, my cheeks ablaze as I point to my crotch.

"Just to apply the medicine thoroughly, I promise to be respectful, as your mate should be," he says seriously, rolling his shoulders back.

Sure, he's seen it already—and to be honest, he's probably right about the whole infection deal.

"Fine," I mutter in defeat.

A major thing that the Deenz, my abductors, taught me is not to expect kindness. I'm lucky that I've ended up here with Kitaico. He's light-years better than my former captors. I shouldn't complain, some girls had it way worse. I didn't even have to participate in some of the seedier activities—mostly just bubble dancing and serving drinks for the high-paying aliens.

Is it weird that I feel lucky to be here?

It always shocked me to see how many of us human gals were abducted by the Deenz…did anyone know the truth about where we ended up?

Are any of us on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries yet?

I focus on the ceiling as I wait for Kitaico to do what needs to be done. Another trick I've picked up since being a bubble babe? An unhealthy ability to disassociate.

But try as I might, I can't ignore his hands. Slowly and intentionally, his fingers make contact with the smooth skin where my thigh and pussy connect.

My breathes hitches, and his fingers twitch over my lips.

His fingertips are slick with the salve as he prods closer to my center. The pain of my irritated skin slips to the back of my mind as he ignites the pleasurable nerves of my sex.

"The skin you covered properly is already looking so much better. I will be thorough in my application to your cunt, Leeenuh," He slides his fingers between my inner and outer labia, and my hips buck slightly.

For Chrissakes, he's just trying to take care of me and I'm thrusting into his fucking hands. Maybe with the lubricating salve, he won't notice the growing wetness.

His fingers stop just below my clit.

"You are built so differently than our kind, but your cunt is still beautiful to behold. Like a delicate shell that holds a precious pearl," he whispers.

The air between us feels charged with electricity. Maybe it's just his venom still coursing through my veins. There's a part of me that wants him to take advantage of the situation, despite my tender flesh.

"You know, maybe it might be smart for you to help me out next heat, just so I don't hurt myself." I say aloud, knowing that he'll not be able to understand me.

It's only when he looks up at me that I realize that I've been staring at him.

I look away, feeling my cheeks burn hotter than before.

It's gotta be the venom.

"I don't understand, Leeenuh," he says, finishing his application in a gentlemanly manner, unfortunately. As he pulls his hand away from my crotch, his fingers linger and delicately trace the intricate lines of my tentacle tattoo wrapping around my thigh.

When it comes to tattoos, I have a strong affinity for all things nautical. The ocean, to me, has always carried an aura of pure magic, perhaps because of my landlocked upbringing in Minnesota.

"At first I thought these were some strange broken camouflage, but your skin decorations are beautiful."

"Oh, I take it you guys don't have tattoos." I try my best to ignore the feeling of his fingers as they linger on my skin. Speaking, I notice Kitaico tilting his head, trying to understand my words.

How do I even convey the idea of tattoos to an alien without a shared language?

"Tattoo," I repeat slowly, tapping the oceans scene on the underside of my bicep—a spot less dangerous than my inner thigh.

"Tahtooo." Kitaico overenunciates the word like he does my name.

"Good." I smile, tracing over the curve of the wave on my arm.

"You drew those on yourself?" he asks, his eyebrows shooting up as the realization kicks in.

"Well, I didn't draw this one—but I could." It'd be an awkward angle to attempt on my own. But there's no point in confusing him, so I just nod.

"The Andjin don't have these tahtooos. I fear they would ruin our cloaking…but on you, they're perfect."

An extraterrestrial saying something nice is a pleasant surprise, especially when compared to the rude comments I've received while bubble dancing.

"Maybe you could draw something beautiful for the nest? Something to help pass the time." He pauses, his jaw setting, and he stands before he continues. "Before your next heat."

Oh, the damper on everything, the fucking heats.

"Speaking of, I was out to get those." He points to the pile of purple puffs he dropped earlier. "To pad out the restraints. Something that's supposed to keep you from hurting yourself shouldn't be uncomfortable."

When he stands again, I see that his sentient head tentacles must have been squirming the entire time he was touching me. The skin, normally yellow, is now inflamed with a bluish hue where it was constricted against his torso.

I flip the wrap skirt down, tucking my ripped bubble babe bodysuit gingerly into the waistband.

I can"t bear to see Kitaico suffer when he"s putting in so much effort into taking care of me. I slip out of the bed with caution, determined to hide any signs of pain from him.

He watches me as I cross the room over to the purple pile of what I now think might be alien sea sponges. I reach for one, and then hold it out to him.

"You first," I point to the tentacles that he calls the unruly brothers.

"I'm fine," he waves me off.

Fine my ass.

I can see now, on closer inspection, that the lashings are cutting so tightly into him that his blue blood is welling up where it's tied the tightest.

"No."

I reach out for one of the ties, but his hand quickly grabs mine.

"I can't control them. They'll touch you." His face is deadly serious and his eyes narrow.

But I can't let him keep hurting himself.

"We'll figure something out," I say before ripping the knot free.

It takes all of ten seconds before the brothers ratchet around me and pull me tightly against him. Kitaico's skin flashes purple, and I look up just as his eyes darken.