Текст книги "Milked for the Holidays"

Автор книги: Vivian Murdoch

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

The only plausible reason is the fire died out, leaving me cold on the couch. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Shaking my head, I groan as an odd throb aches on the side. Definitely eschewing all alcohol after this.

My fingers twitch as I resist the urge to touch the spot. None of this makes sense. Even if I buy into the dream aspect, I’m far too uncomfortable to really enjoy it. All I want to do at this moment is wake up and burrow under the blankets after stoking the fire—blue, god-like behemoths be damned.

But just as I try to force myself to wake up, he’s back. This time, he’s not alone. Another man, just as tall as he is, accompanies him, his frigid blue eyes scalding over my naked body. The main difference is this man’s skin is a much deeper blue than the other’s. He seems just as muscular, perhaps a touch more so.

My insides twist as I look him up and down as best as I can. Not much of him is exposed, but what little is, speaks of strength. His long fingers clench up, forming thick fists. The knuckles seem a little callused, but that’s it.

It’s the way he moves, however, that makes me pause. There’s a lethality in each stride, a hidden strength the other just doesn’t have. Now that he’s stopped, however, the two look similar enough to possibly be family.

Tipping his head forward, he looks me up and down again, his lips rising into a wolfish smile. Though, from my vantage point, I can’t tell if the view is having a sexual effect on him or not. Thankfully, his gaze seems rather appreciative.

Curling my lips up into a smile, I go to greet him, but the two start communicating with each other in that same odd language. Granted, I’ve never been a linguist, but nothing at all about it sounds familiar. With all my research for court cases, and all the replays I’ve seen, I’ve heard so many different languages, but this one stumps me.

It’s all guttural, almost as if they’re grunting at each other. But then, they’re also speaking so fast that I can’t catch anything. It’s more like a vibration than a sound. Strange.

When they both look over at me, however, all thoughts stop. I’m arrested by the heat of their gaze. Honestly, if I wasn’t already strapped down, I don’t think I’d be able to move under the onslaught.

As if moving as one, they prowl over to me, their fingers brushing my scalp. Again, with the hair. It was nice the first time, but now I crave something else, something much lower than my head.

“I can assure you,” I finally gather the courage to say, “there are far more interesting places just a bit down south.”

Their heads whip up as they look at each other, their murmuring washing over my skin until I’m shivering for a far different reason. The newcomer’s frown is just as fierce as the other’s as he leans in and stares at my head.

Fear trembles through my body as he palpates the spot that hurts. What if my original assessment was correct and I’m not dreaming? What if I’m very badly hurt?

It would explain a lot of things. At least, I think it would. Head injuries can cause so many nasty side effects, including hallucinations. It would also explain why I’m so cognizant during this dream.

Never before have I been able to keep up a running dialogue in my head. Normally, my dreams played out like movies I watched instead of things I participated in. It all makes sense now.

The only part that still eludes me is how I became injured in the first place. The last memory I had was falling asleep on the couch as the Ghost of Christmas Past came on the screen. Could I have rolled off and hit my head?

It couldn’t be alcohol poisoning. Even for a lightweight like me, I didn’t put that much in there. Definitely enough for a hangover, but not enough to incapacitate me.

“Please,” I groan. “What’s wrong with me? Am I dying?”

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 3

OceanofPDF.com

VROKJAN

My brother, Nagán, the ship’s doctor, glances over at me, his expression unreadable. Typically, Ranchers aren’t called in to deal with the cows, but he knows I’ve taken a vested interest in this one. She’ll have to go to auction like all the others; though, nothing as paltry as bidding on her will deter me.

Since this is an unofficial gathering, not many Ranchers should be in attendance. Even if they were, I’d still spend whatever it takes to have her on my farm. My cock bobs as I glance down at her lush body. Her breasts are already large, perfect for milking.

Sliding my gaze down further, I take in the soft nature of her skin and stomach. She’s not fit and toned like some of the other cows. In fact, I’m sure every inch of her is a handful, perfect for grabbing while I drive into her.

I shake my head, dispelling the lustful thoughts racing through it. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. There’s a problem. Pushing past Nagán, I brush the side of her head again, a frown twisting my lips down. The translator should have taken hold by now.

What’s preventing it? Knowing Nagán, he’s troubleshot whatever he could. Hence why I’m here. He knows I want her, and no doubt doesn’t want to be the one to break her. That seems to be my privilege.

Hunching down, I ignore her pitiful questions, opting to not speak again until I know she can understand me. But I hear her. I hear the panic in her heart, the sorrow in her tone. This cow isn’t a stranger to anguish. I can feel it with every pained breath she releases.

Though I cannot hear her thoughts, I know they must be buzzing about inside that head of hers. It’s not her fault, though. Typically, the cows wake up able to understand us. Yes, they go through a period of hysterics, but once the serums take hold, they’re far more pliable.

Her fingers twitch as if she’s trying to claw her way out. This won’t do at all. Growling over to Nagán, I point to the syringe that will help her sleep again while we figure out what the hell is going on.

As he goes over to her, the cow goes wild, her eyes shifting back and forth as she looks at the needle. If only there was something I could do. Other Ranchers might not give a fuck if their cows are happy or not, but I do.

It’s the standard I live by. Lifting my hand, I motion for Nagán to stay put as I tip my cow’s face over to mine. Her green eyes sparkle with unshed tears, tugging at my heart. Desperation and terror war within her, making her nearly vibrate.

Reaching over, I hold out my hand for the syringe. The other I slip underneath one of the straps and rest it against her breastbone. Though she can’t understand me, I do my best to take in deep breaths and let them out, showing her what I want her to do for me.

After a moment or two, she seems to understand. Eventually, her breathing slows, matching mine in both speed and cadence. With exaggerated motions, I show her the needle, pressing my palm harder against her skin as she grows agitated once more.

Off to the side, I can sense Nagán’s frustration. He’s certainly of the opinion that cows are beneath us, and as such shouldn’t be coddled like this. But it’s only because he’s never had one of his own. He doesn’t know the feeling of actually caring for one of these Earthlings as a part of the family.

Truthfully, it would be far easier to keep them in the field, using machines to harvest their milk. But to me, there’s nothing more intimate than taking it by the mouth, drinking straight from the source. I long to cup my cock, to squeeze it as I find relief, but this pretty little heifer needs my entire concentration.

After rolling his eyes in disgust, Nagán leaves the room, giving this cow and me some privacy. As if she can feel his hostility, the moment he leaves, she sags against the gurney. Taking the opportunity, I plunge the needle into her arm, crooning nonsensical sounds as she tries to thrash about.

This cow certainly needs to be handled with care, and I’m more than willing to take on that task. Leaning forward, I breathe in her scent, committing it to memory. Despite the acrid stench of fear wafting from her, there’s an undercurrent of sweetness, something that’s been absent with my other cows.

Her eyes are wild as I loom above her, and I can’t help the feral smile crossing my lips. She will find herself in this position far more often than not. My cock twitches as I imagine the moment she begs me to drink from her.

Though sweet, I can sense a strong backbone in her, one which will need to be broken. Those cows are always the best. Hopefully, she won’t ask to leave like the others. My heart pounds in my chest as her eyes drift closed and her body settles.

Every cycle I get my hopes up, thinking I’ll find my forever pet. But each time, they want to go back to Earth. Granted, I could be like the other Ranchers and just force them to stay, but for some reason, I want my cow to actually want me.

I’ll force a lot of things onto their unwilling bodies, but love and affection I want to receive freely. It’s something some Ranchers, like Nagán, don’t understand. They can’t fathom giving their cows something of a free will. Shaking my head, I put the syringe on a prep table and examine my new property.

Drifting my hand lower, I slide my fingers through the thatch of curls guarding her entrance. This will be the first of many changes she’ll have to endure. Unable to help myself, I slip a finger along her lower lips, groaning as I feel her wetness.

Even under duress, her body wants mine. Bringing my fingers up to my lips, I lap at them, tasting her sweetness. If she’s that tasty, I can only imagine what her milk will taste like.

“I assume she’s docile now?” Nagán’s voice interrupts my fantasy, bringing me back to the present.

“She’s ready.”

He nods, pushing past me as he hunches down to stare at the side of her head. A mass of black curls conceals the incision, but we both know exactly where the translator is implanted. Lifting her hair, we both study the faint mark.

Nothing appears to be wrong. Frowning, I reach into my suit and pull out a small, thin scanner. As I drift the tube over the implant, I watch as it lights up, showing that it’s active. Then what could be interfering?

My gaze drifts about the place, looking over her personal belongings laying in the cubical nearby. Something bright and shiny twinkles up from her clothing, drawing my attention.

“What’s all this?”

Nagán doesn’t look. “Hmm? What’s all what?”

I reach over and pluck at the metallic bits, my brow furrowing as what appears to be a ruffly snake slithers out. It’s not alive, thank goodness, but it’s something I’ve never seen before.

“This? What the hell is this thing?”

This time, he finally looks over. “Oh. It was on her when she was collected. Since it wasn’t a living being, they let it stay. We’re not sure of its purpose. It could be decorative. Could be a medical device. We’re just not sure. We were hoping she could tell us, but until the translator starts working, it’s a moot point.”

Taking my scanner, I run it over, detecting nothing unusual. However, the closer it gets to her head, her face scrunches up as if in pain. I glance up at the screen, noting the rise in her pulse. Whatever it is, it’s causing her distress.

As I take it away, everything seems to calm down. “Hmmm. I wonder.”

Despite the agony etched on her face, I bring the strange object closer to her head, monitoring the output. If my theory is correct, whatever is in this thing is causing interference in the implant, rendering it useless. The closer I get, the more the readout wanes, confirming it.

“Destroy this. It’s causing all the problems. We don’t need it to wreak havoc on our ship.”

“Please,” Nagán sneers. “As if a bit of frilly metal can do anything to a massive ship like ours.”

With a sigh, I drag the lifeless object over to a medical container and stuff it in. “You keep underestimating humans. It will be your downfall one day.”

With a snort, he takes his own scanner out and frowns as he inspects the implant. “And your constant affection and need to coddle them will be yours. Unfortunately though, you seem to be right. Now that the object is quarantined, the signal is much stronger. We won’t know for sure until she’s fully awake.”

With a sigh, he glances up at me, his harsh expression tempering as he watches my movements. I can almost feel the pity pouring off of him.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to look at me like one of your patients,” I growl, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

“Patient? No. As my brother? I’ll always worry about you. Your obsession with humans is unnatural. The only reason I don’t say much more is because the amount of milk you produce is astronomical. Our ranch thrives because of you.”

“I can’t say it’s all because of how I treat them. Though, I do believe the happier the cows are, the more milk they produce. Unfortunately, I can’t tell how accurate that is. It could be I’m just good at picking stock.”

“Your ability is nearly uncanny then,” he murmurs, pulling out a computer screen. “Granted, none of the cows wanted to stay as your personal pet, but the few humans who want nothing more than an escape seem to be doing well in the milking barns.”

Pushing the morose thoughts out of my head, I give him a half smile. “It also doesn’t hurt that we share a collective, pooling our resources to maximize the cows we have. That’s really the reason we thrive. The Ranchers choosing to go at it alone seem to struggle the most.”

We sit there for a moment in tense silence, neither of us really knowing what else to say. Even though we’re family, my brother and I are as different as can be. We’ve never seen eye to eye, even when talking about the business.

All I can do is wait for my little cow to wake up. Unfortunately, that means my brother will soon be preparing her to become my heifer. Normally, I have no clue which Medical Rancher oversees this part of things, and it’s not a problem. However, the very idea of him touching her, priming her to eventually take my cock, grates on my nerves.

I shouldn’t care. She should simply be a source of milk and pleasure, and nothing more. However, for the first time since laying eyes on a cow, I want her solely for my own. As if he can sense the nature of my thoughts, Nagán slips on a pair of gloves.

His wolfish smile sends a frisson of anger down my spine, and I clench my fingers to keep from hitting him. Just like a younger brother tormenting the elder, he makes a great show of adjusting the straps around her hips, thighs, and legs. He spreads her open and straps her down again, leaving her immobile, yet vulnerable to his examination.

“You know she has to be looked at and prepped, right?”

An aggravated sigh heaves past my lips. “I know. It’s the same with every cow.”

“And yet…?” he trails off, giving me a knowing smirk.

“And yet, I want to punch your fucking face at the very idea of preparing her.”

Doing his best to stifle a chuckle, he shakes his head as he walks over to the door and jabs at the keypad. “There. No one will interrupt us. It’s not protocol, but I guess I can look the other way if you want to assist me.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Technically, no. Since this is a special pickup, we’re running light. I usually have another in here to assist me, but all the other medical personnel are with the other cows. Guess it’s just you and me.” He looks back over at her with a critical eye. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure what you see in her. She doesn’t look all that different from the other humans. Older than the Collector usually grabs, but not so far past the age of ripeness to be useful.”

Gritting my teeth, I take the identification card from his hand. Jessica. What a pretty name for a human. It rolls around in my head, feeling right somehow. I scan a bit lower, looking at her age. Thirty-five.

Perhaps age is what I’ve been missing. All the other cows I purchased were in their early twenties. Young, vivacious, and with a full life ahead of them. Granted, thirty-five is not old, even in human terms, but perhaps she’ll be less flighty and more willing to settle down?

Nagán is right, though. My fascination is sure to be the end of me. But there’s just something about this one that doesn’t let go. It’s seared into my brain and onto my soul. We Icorians don’t believe in soulmates, and yet, part of me wants to believe, to hope.

It would be right to settle down with someone like me, but that’s not what I crave. True, pleasures of the flesh can be found with another Icorian, but the females aren’t the same. They’re not as soft or pliant as a well-trained cow.

It’s stupid. Foolish. I know this, and yet, all I want to do is make this cow mine. I want her milk to feed me, to nourish me, to drown me. I want our combined pleasure to be talked about as if it were a myth.

“Are we doing this, or what?”

I blink over at my brother as he hovers over her with a syringe. Seems as if it’s time to wake my sleeping cow.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 4

OceanofPDF.com

JESSICA

Odd sounds hover about my head, buzzing like annoying insects. Heat climbs over my body like thousands of ants stinging and biting me. Though I long to scratch at my limbs, I find I still cannot move.

God, the nightmare continues. Off in the distance, a loud chime sounds, but I cannot tell if it’s from the movie or the grandfather clock sitting in the hall. Each bong slams into my skull, reminding me of how much I must have had to drink.

The groan ripped from my lips sounds soft, even to my own ears, and yet, the agony reverberates across the synapses of my brain. That’s it. I’m never drinking again. Ever. Can’t do it.

I long to tip over onto the floor so I can crawl my way to the bathroom, but any minute movement seems like too much effort. Maybe I should continue to lie here and contemplate the consequences of my actions. Too much alcohol, plus probably bad lasagna, times grief, minus sappy Christmas movies seems to equal abject misery that refuses to go away.

Somehow none of the actions of last night managed to cancel out the other. And so I lie here, my stomach in knots and my head feeling as if it’s going to explode. Another moan slips past my lips as I turn my head to the side.

Whispers float across my skin, the words harsh and raspy to my ears. What the hell is on the television now? Nothing about it sounds like Christmas. Too bad the remote is probably on the floor or buried in these mountains of blankets.

“Jessica?” The question hovers above me, still soft, yet insistent.

It’s deep and masculine, causing goosebumps to explode over my skin.

“God?” I ask back, my insides quivering as a laugh bubbles up to the surface.

Of all the ridiculous things. It would be far more likely to be one of the Christmas ghosts coming to take me away.

“Jessica.” This time, the voice sounds far firmer, commanding even.

I can’t deny the effect it has on me. My pussy spasms with each drawn-out syllable. The crisp, harsh tone of his words only makes me that much wetter.

“Am I in trouble?” I shouldn’t tease, but if my psyche is finally breaking, I should have some fun first.

“You’re about to be,” the mysterious voice grumbles. “Open your eyes.”

“Can’t make me.” A laugh slips out unbidden as the hilarity washes over me.

“What the fuck is wrong with her? What did you do?”

A different male answers, his voice a touch more strident. “I didn’t do anything. You know humans can become odd and potentially incoherent when coming out of forced sleep.”

“This isn’t incoherency,” the voice snaps back, drawing a frown across my face.

He sounds angry. But underneath that, part of me somehow seems to know he’s also worried. Granted, I don’t know how I know. I just do. But why is he worried? Should I be worried?

“You’re not usually here for this. I am. Now do you want me to kick you out so I can deal with her myself?”

No! I scream out in my mind. I have no idea what’s going on, but internally, I know I want the man with the concerned voice to stay. I don’t want him to leave. My fingers tremble as I reach out, desperate to touch the phantom.

Sensations wash over my skin as sounds become clearer. It’s as if I’m waking from a strange dream. I’m groggy but slowly able to move different parts of myself.

First, I wiggle my fingers, then my toes. When those work, I move on to bigger limbs like my arms. When they don’t move, I try my legs. Terror infuses me as déjà vu slams in so hard my head spins.

I’ve been here before. Just like this. I couldn’t move, couldn’t understand anything. The hospital. Hysteria builds as I look about, my gaze landing on two blue men. They’re still blue.

What the fuck? This has to be a dream. Right? I tug at the restraints with all my might, desperate to be free. They don’t budge. Not even an inch. A scream claws at my throat but refuses to go past my lips.

“Do something,” the presumably kinder male barks out.

The other turns to him, his eyes slanting. “She’s your cow. Maybe you should do something.”

Cow?

That one word stops everything.

“I’m not a fucking cow,” I manage to screech, bucking against the straps. “How dare you comment about my size when I’m obviously injured?”

Both men stop and look over at me, their eyes narrowing as they glance over my very naked body. After a moment, the one with the nice voice eases over. He pauses, his hand hovering over the top of my head as if he wants to pat it.

“My brother made no mention of your size. As I see it, you’re perfectly agreeable to me.”

“Agreeable?” I snap out. “Yeah. Because every woman wants to hear they look agreeable.” Though the last part is mumbled, he seems to hear every word clearly.

Bending low, he runs his thumb over my lip, sending shards of lust blazing through my body. “There are other words I could use, but you would not understand them.”

“Try me.” Despite the fear threatening to swamp me, I bait this blue demon.

What the hell is wrong with me? Perhaps it has to do with why I’m in the hospital. But if he’s a hallucination, then I might as well work through whatever issues rise to the surface. I never thought my size was one of them, but apparently, there’s a tender nerve there under everything else.

Granted, there’s enough emotional pain to mask recurring problems, if there are any. Narrowing my eyes, I watch as he leans in even closer, my breath catching in my throat. I already knew he was big, but having him this close reminds me just how large he is.

Should I apologize now? Or should I just wait and see what happens? We both remain silent, our breaths intermingling. Somehow, it feels intimate… too intimate. Squirming, I move to pull my face away, but he holds onto my bottom lip, pinching it as he keeps my head in place.

“I have allowed you a leniency no other Rancher would tolerate. However, I seem to be the odd one out. I prefer my cows to be happy and content. But even I have my limits, and you’re coming very close to testing them.”

There was that fucking word again. Hostility rises in my chest as I forcibly yank my head away, willing the painful cry to stay in my throat where it belongs. Though I expect him to get mad, he seems sad, disappointed almost.

“If you’re not commenting on my size, then stop calling me a cow. I happen to like how I look and don’t want you criticizing me.”

He backs up, his eyes flashing with some unknown emotion. “You seem to have a massive misapprehension of your place here. It’s entirely my fault, and I take the blame. You are not in charge here. You are in no position to make demands. Even your requests are up to me to grant or deny. Now, try it again, little cow. This time, with the respect due me.”

Enough. I don’t care if this motherfucker is a hallucination or not. I refuse to allow my brain to keep saying I’m a cow.

“How about you fucking respect me? Huh? I’m not some little girl you can shove around. I happen to be in a position where I can slap a lawsuit on you. Sue your asses for all it’s worth. How about that? And if you really are doctors, I’ll have your licenses for this. No one should have to endure this horrendous bedside manner.”

Granted, I’d have to call up some of my old contacts, but there has to be a precedent where a doctor fat-shamed someone and was sued. Even so, the men don’t seem phased. In fact, if anything, they seem rather confused.

The somewhat kind one furrows his brows. “Sue? Bedside manner? I’m not familiar with these terms. Please explain.”

“I…” I falter as I search my brain.

How in the world do I explain this? It’s common knowledge. Unease drips down my spine as I study his face. Neither of them seems to be putting on a show.

“Ah,” the mean one remarks, slapping the other on the shoulder. “Sue. You know, Kajóy has a cow by that name. She was a mean heifer.” Turning, he spears me with a deadly glare. “How do you know she’s here? No humans are supposed to know anything about us.”

Again, that sinking feeling curls through my gut, making me nauseous. “Not the name,” I whisper. “Yes, Sue can be a name, but it’s also an action. It’s… Well… restitution of sorts?”

At their blank stares, a frisson of irritation runs up my spine. Are they just playing dumb?

“Restitution? To make something right? Basically, I’m threatening to extract money from you for your mean words to me.” Even as I say it, it doesn't feel enough. It’s silly somehow. “And I’ll make sure you never practice medicine again.” There. That should scare them.

The mean one steps up, his chest puffing up as he approaches. “I see. You dare threaten my position when you’re the one strapped down? I think not.” Turning to the other, he grits his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw pop. “Take your damned heifer in hand before I do.”

I flinch at the anger in his tone, fear swamping my senses. Off in the distance, I hear a rapid beeping. Based on my time in and out of the hospital with Mom, I know that sound. I recognize it just like I would her voice. It has to be the heart monitor, and based on the frenetic sound, my heart rate is shooting off into the stratosphere. Something is wrong, and none of this makes sense.

Before I can open my mouth, the other steps closer to the mean one, his lips curling back in a feral snarl. “You will not touch her. She is mine.”

“Not until you win her in the auction,” he spits back.

Auction? Fuck. What is actually happening here? I’ve not been the type to watch scary movies or read horror novels. Hell, I don’t even watch true crime because I just can’t handle it. Why is my brain coming up with these scenarios?

“Please,” I murmur, desperate to touch the part of my head that still throbs. “What’s wrong with me?”

The kinder one pulls away and comes back to my side. “Nothing that we can tell. You seem to be in perfect health.”

I shake my head, hysteria threatening to rise in my throat. “No. I can’t be. People aren’t supposed to be blue. And I’m not supposed to be auctioned. This isn’t Halloween, so the only explanation is there’s something wrong with my head. God, it hurts.”

Tsking softly, he runs his hand over the side of my head, caressing me almost. “The implant usually doesn’t hurt, but there was interference earlier. I’m afraid it’s made things work harder than they should. It will pass soon.”

“I– implant? What? What the hell did you do to me?”

The mean one shakes his head, looking bored with the whole affair. “I don’t have time for this. She should have already started the preparation process.”

“Please,” I beg, looking at the one person who might prove to be an ally. “Don’t let him hurt me.”

“Oh, my pretty little cow. I do so love hearing you beg. I can’t wait for you to beg for my cock driving into you while my lips pull sweet milk from these breasts of yours.”

His words make no sense, and yet, my body responds. Heat floods my system as arousal drips through my veins. My body understands, even if my mind does not.

“Can I get on with it now?” the other intones, his gaze flitting between the two of us.

“Soon. I want her to understand what’s going to happen to her.”

Oh God. Do I really want to know? No. The answer is a decided, resounding no. I want to stay in my delusion as long as I can and not have it shattered, revealing what I don’t want to admit to myself.

With a soft, almost gentle touch, the large man runs his hand down my arm. “We are taking you to my planet, Icora. There, you will be put up for auction as a human cow. But don’t worry. I’ve got my sights set on you, and I’m not letting you go.”

“I– Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Relief floods my system as I take in their indulgent smiles. “Oh. Oh, I get it. This is a prank. Right? Some misguided attempt to cheer me up for the holidays? Whew. I was terrified there for a minute. Who put you up to this? Ralph?”

The two put their heads together for a moment. “We are unfamiliar with a human named Ralph—male or female.”

The mean one walks over to me, holding out an odd tube, and runs it down my body. “She’s not showing any signs of illness or increased temperature. This is odd. Normally the cows either go into hysterics or accept their fate. I’m not sure what this reaction is.”

“Yes,” the other replies, running his fingers across his chin. “But aren’t they already under the effects of the serum by now?”

“Ahh. You do have a point. That being said, we’re running out of time if we want her ready by the time we land. The other cows are already well on their way in their transformation.”

“Go ahead,” he nods, tugging on the zipper in the front of his suit.

He lowers it down, revealing a smooth chest, a touch lighter blue than his hands and face, as if those parts are tanned and the rest of his body is not. But that’s ridiculous. It must be the paint absorbed into the clothes.

It’s got to be. I demand this be the answer. My brain can’t handle anything else. Dumbstruck, I follow his motions down until he slips the shiny fabric off his shoulders. An enormous cock juts out from between his hips, but it looks nothing like the guys I’ve messed around with.

“Oh. My. God. You even bought a prosthetic? I hope what they’re paying you is worth it.”

Off to the side, the other preps a needle, but turns at my exclamation. He simply looks the other up and down and rolls his eyes.