I managed to team up with the orange-skinned, Raxilli females also working here, claiming to patrons that theabsolute bestway to take the dust is to snort it straight off the thigh of a Raxilli woman. It’s bullshit, of course, but the Raxilli girls were grateful to me for cueing up customers who then wanted to offer them tips for other services, and Tringa was happy that I’d sold all her Trixi dust.
I have no idea what time it is, but judging by how exhausted I feel, I think it’s getting pretty close to the end of my shift.
God, I hope I’m right about that.
I’m not so lucky that I’ve gotten away without being groped tonight. It seems it’s all up for grabs here in the club, and I’ve felt hands on my butt as I walked the premises, trying to look like I’ve got somewhere important to be, or while I’m ferrying drinks to tables from the bar. I’ve also sat in a few laps, too. Sofar, I seem to have chosen well; I’ve either managed to turn the conversation around from the patron trying to buy services from me, to them licking Trixi dust off the breast of one of my Raxilli colleagues instead, or just incessantly asked them questions about their lives. One thing seems to be universal; men everywhere love to talk about their favorite topic -themselves.
But just as I feel that I’m going to come out of this whole ordeal unscathed, I happen to walk by a booth occupied by three white males - and I don’t mean your regular human Caucasian white, either. I meanwhite-white. As white as a sheet of paper. All over their bodies, including their long, silky-looking hair. They look like they’re made of porcelain. The only parts of them that aren’t as white as snow are their eyes. They’re large, black and shiny, like someone had popped two big, black marbles into their eye sockets. The neon lights of the club reflect in the blackness of those eyes and something about this species unnerves me greatly.
“Come,” one of the males hisses in a sickening-sounding voice. “Come, we want the services of a tasty little human female.”
I shake my head, but before I can decline and make out that I’ve suddenly got somewhere very important to be, a hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, pulling me closer to the booth. It’s then that I realize that not only is this species eerily white, with soulless-looking eyes, but they have two sets of arms too.
That’swaytoo many hands for my liking. Especially when I’ve got a pretty good hunch about where they want to put those hands, too.
“Uh… no, th-thank you, but I really have to-”
I tug and struggle, trying to yank free of the big, milk-white hand currently gripping onto me. The owner of that hand grins at me, showing a set of teeth with each small tooth tipped into a sharp point. The sight makes my stomach churn, and I don’tknow why I notice that of all the things that should be white, this guy’s pointed teeth are stained a reddish-brown.
“Do not fret, human,” he tells me uselessly, because whatever kind of panic my body is going through right now, it is way beyond ‘fretting’. “Yoxxarii do not always eat their fuck-mates. Perhaps you can make it too good for us to consider you food, hm?”
Yoxxarii.
Holy shit! These guys are Yoxxarii?!
My breathing speeds up as I continue to try and struggle free. This is one of the species Yix warned me about.Jesus Christ!Why couldn’t I be grabbed by those guys who look like giant teddy bears?! All they wanted to do was to cuddle and use my tits as a pillow! I could have dealt with that. Not these guys.No, no, no,I can’t get caught up with these guys!
Suddenly, I’m violently tugged down onto the lap of the Yoxxarii who has a hold of me, my heart leaping to my throat as I yelp and try to scramble away. It’s no use, though. He has too many hands, and each of them has a strong grip on me, his lower set of arms banded across my middle. His friends laugh viciously as they gleefully watch me struggle. “Quit wiggling, little human,” one tells me, reaching across and putting one of his large hands on my shoulder, ‘comforting’ me in the most patronizing way possible. “You cannot get free.”
A rumbling laugh erupts at my back. “Do not tell her this! I like when they wiggle and squirm.”
The Yoxxarii who is holding me on his lap, lifts his hips to emphasize the erection he’s sporting.
I feel sick.
Maybe if I actually do throw up all over these guys, they’d let me go?
One of the orange-skinned, Raxilli girls hovers by, no doubt following me to see if I can cue up more patrons for her to collecttips from. I make eye contact with her, making mine go big, trying to silently beg for her help here. I see the exact moment she realizes what type of clientele I’m with. The sultry smile slides right off her pretty, high cheek-boned face as she takes in the Yoxxarii holding me captive.
“Hey!” I call to her. “Come here!”
But the Yoxxarii clamps a big hand over my mouth and leans down to murmur into my ear. “Raxilli are good with their mouths, but you wouldn’t believe how flavorless they are.” His hot, rancid breath prickles my skin as I watch the orange woman hurry away. I can only hope she’s gone to get Tringa to come and save me.
“You see, this is why all of your bed slaves try to kill you, Yashhi,” one of the other paper-white aliens drawls, draping his upper set of arms across the back of the booth seating, the lower ones crossing over his chest. “You come on too strong with the fear. The poor thing is terrified.”
The guy holding me to him -‘Yashhi’- snorts in reply. “You are too soft, Byakii. Besides, it is more fun when they try to fight back.”
I try to calm my breathing, but it just doesn’t seem to work. There’s got to be a way out of this. Tringa wouldn’t just let themeat me, would she? I crane my neck, trying to get a glimpse of her at the bar, but she’s deep in conversation with the club owner, jowly Master Joolyx.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Ok, Niska, calm down. You can talk yourself out of this. You can… I don’t know… charm them or-
Byakii, the one sat opposite me leans forward and reaches out one of his too many hands to play with a lock of my hair, the black contrasting with his ghostly white. “You would probably prefer to service me, would you not, little, delicate human? Ihave all kinds of substances back at my quarters you can take so you won’t feel a thing.”
He smiles at me like what he’s saying is a terribly kind offer.
