Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
*
I returned to the alley, but the Kaylog was missing from the spot where I’d left it. After the reboot, it must’ve found a better place to conceal itself.
I fondled my strap, and a shine in a vent alongside one of the buildings caught my eye—the night before, that had been an open space. Covering that space with a vent was a suitable disguise that would likely prevent its detection. I scanned my strap, and the vent popped open. I crawled inside and perused the damage in the main cabin before inspecting the system unit.
Wires were strewn about, popping with electricity. Fried communications board. I had to repair it if I wanted to access my ship’s communication panel and send an SOS. I confirmed my translation decoder was still damaged, meaning I would have to make the best of it before I managed to repair it.
I was supposed to be focusing on fixing my ship, but a Furker cannot fight its biological cravings. All I could think about was this beautiful creature who triggered every primal impulse in this form. I wouldn’t have thought I could encounter such a breedable member of this species so quickly, but judging by the way my cock kept stiff as I worked on repairs, it was impossible to deny.
I stuffed another waffle into my mouth, a treat delightful to this form, yet one that would have been repulsive to me in other forms because of the texture. But the way it satisfied these taste buds… It also kept my mind on the interactions we’d had—most importantly, when he assured me he desired to be impregnated. I wondered how many of my babies he could have…one, two, a few dozen… It made me uneasy to think of too many more babies than that, given my experience with my ex, but I wondered if he’d insist…
I tried to shake off those cravings. This was not my mission here. As a member of the exploratory council, I’d been assigned to a planet in a sector of the Hector-5 E cluster galaxies. I was to collect data about the life that had been discovered there recently. This, of course, was interrupted by my ex, who clearly had other plans for me, weaponizing my biological impulses to distract me from my research. However, now that I escaped, I would need to report back to the Council and provide them with the information I’d gleaned about her planet and, evidently, inform them of this new planet I crash-landed on, to determine if further exploratory missions were required.
But guilt nagged at my conscience, seemingly much stronger in this form than in my previous ones. Chelsea was holding this beautiful, kind man captive. It wasn’t my place to interfere in local circumstances, no matter how bleak, but my instinct was to find a way to free him from her grasp, maybe because of the violation against my own freedom that I’d recently escaped.
Of course, what would that matter once I was finished repairing my ship? What if freeing him from her control meant he would be ostracized from his group or worse? It was possible that to participate in this society, he must be controlled by her, but surely, like on other planets, the robots did not have their grip on every member. Perhaps if I spent time here, I could find some resistance movement where I could keep him safe. I would be, after all, on this planet for some time, if only to find parts for my ship. Would it do any harm to at least attempt to keep him safe? If there were no alternative options, that would be one thing, but if I could, wasn’t that my obligation?
No, I had no obligation to this man, just as I had no obligation to Powerbottom. This sort of thinking was what always led to me getting into trouble. I would make repairs and head home.
And in the meantime, I would avoid Twink at all costs.
6
TWINK
“I said three,” the customer reminded me as I was about to walk away from the caramel pump.
“That was three pumps, sir.”
His brows knitted together. “I think you only did two.”
Okay, sure. And then you’ll complain about it having too much caramel, as if it were my fault. Ugh.
I hated taking shifts at the café. Sure, I liked coffee, but I wasn’t a barista. When I first started here, you had to learn to cover in the café for breaks, and my first day, I asked a cute guy if he needed his bagel heated up…
His frozen bagel!
But if the store needed a guy to burn their cookies and oversteam milk, I was their twink!
This job was so different from the bookstore, where I knew exactly what I was doing. Where I could recommend my latest favorite reads to customers and introduce them to an author or series I was sure they’d love.