Purple Heart

Azi sniffed the air in the room tentatively.

"No Bugs in here, not for a long time. It will be safe."

"Yeah, unless a patrol comes down that fucking tunnel and sees the busted door."

She hooked her fingers under the metal plate and hefted it back up, leaning it against the door frame so that it more or less blocked off the room. Moralez shot her a sarcastic glance.

"D.I.Y expert over here. Remind me never to let you remodel my house." He doubted that she understood any of his veiled insults, but she huffed dismissively, turning to examine the crates. She kicked one experimentally.

"Don't break those too!" Moralez added. "For God's sake, they could be full of sewage or chemical weapons for all you know."

She ignored him, bringing her massive, paw-like foot down heavily on one of the boxes. It shattered like brittle plastic, disgorging dozens of Betelgeusian handheld pistols and what must have been wrist-mounted energy shield projectors onto the floor. She picked up one of the devices and thumbed the switch, a blue oval of plasma flaring to life, blinding Moralez in the gloom. She waved it back and forth, smirking at him as his eyes adjusted to the glow. She pulled his 1911 handgun from her belt and tossed it unceremoniously at his feet.

"You can have this back."

He stooped to pick it up, brushing dirt off the receiver and scowling at her as she appraised one of the Bug weapons. He walked over to the pile and picked up a shield projector for himself, might as well take one, but he didn't care for the Bug guns. His handgun had served him well up to now, and he wasn't about to start doubting the .45. He strapped the strange device to his wrist and switched it on, the blue, translucent shield wavering and fizzing as it took form. Much like the weapons that the aliens favored, the shield made use of magnetically-contained plasma, molded into the desired shape by the electromagnetic fields. It wouldn't actually stop a bullet or a knife, but it would more than likely melt the metal before it made contact with the user. He collapsed it again and holstered his pistol.

A wave of fatigue suddenly overcame him, and he sat down on one of the crates, the relief on his feet and legs was immediate. It was still uncomfortably hot, but he could deal with that. Now that they were out of immediate danger he could think, try to puzzle their situation out, come up with a real plan that didn't involve them just walking until they dropped. He removed his armor plating, his helmet, and his backpack, stripping down to his uniform. Instead of throwing them to the floor as Azi had done, he stacked them on the crate beside him. He stretched his arms above his head, yawning. His body was a patchwork of scars and burns, mementos of old battles standing out prominently on his tanned skin. Azi seemed drawn to them, watching him as he ran his fingers through his sodden hair. He noticed her looking and pointed to one of his scars, a large, discolored burn that looked like a splash of paint across his chest.

"That one almost took me out. Plasma grenade burned straight through my armor, almost down to the bone."

She didn't reply, merely watching him, her head cocked like a curious dog. The silence became awkward, and he turned away, frustrated. Maybe it was futile to try to bond with her, he still wasn't sure if she genuinely blamed him for the death of her pack or if she was simply an ill-tempered bitch. Either way, it had to stop. Their cooperation was crucial to their survival, and he outranked her. No point bringing it up now though, he was too tired to argue.

He rummaged through his pack, retrieving a tightly-rolled sleeping bag, and lay it on the floor beside the wall. Might as well get some shuteye while they had the time. He pulled some nutrient bars from a pocket on the side of the pack and unwrapped one, chewing the dense ration. He unzipped the bag and climbed into it as Azi watched, perched on one of the intact crates. She didn't have a pack, and he assumed no sleeping bag or rations. Maybe the aliens could go a while without eating, or maybe she was just careless. He wasn't about to share with her after she had snubbed his previous gestures.

He finished the nutrient bar and settled in. It tasted pretty foul, but there were about three thousand calories packed into it, along with all the vitamins and minerals that his body would need on short notice. As he began to drift off to sleep, he was startled awake by the sound of another crate shattering. He rose to a sitting position, his heart racing, seeing Azi rummaging through the contents.

"What are you doing? We need to sleep while we can."

She ignored him, picking up a strange package wrapped in some manner of brown paper, smelling it and turning it over in her hands. She peeled the paper away, revealing some kind of black substance that looked like road tar. She licked it, then dropped it, spitting and grumbling to herself. She eyed his pack, then turned to him, her arms crossed.

"Give me your food."

Moralez laughed at her, doubling over as the effort sent a flare of pain through his ribs, still bruised from the warrior Bug's claw bash.

"Excuse me, soldier?" He made sure it sounded condescending, trying to goad her into reacting. She bristled and bared her pointed teeth.

"You have food, give some to me."

That was the last straw. He unzipped the sleeping bag and rose to his feet. It wouldn't be intimidating to such a large alien, but it was a force of habit, this would not be the first time that he had been forced to talk down a disgruntled subordinate. Her insubordination and lack of respect were unprecedented, however, had this alien even completed her military training?

"Let's get one thing straight, Mad Cat, I outrank you. That means you do what I say, when I say it. That isn't a suggestion, it isn't optional, I'm not asking you politely. Either you get your shit together and follow orders, or I'm gonna exercise my right under section ninety-four of the military justice code to summarily execute you for mutiny. We're still on mission, and this mission is under my command, we have to assume that nobody else made it back to the surface and that we're the only ones alive who can warn the Admiralty about the hive and the warriors. I'm not going to let your petty bullshit get in the way of that."

He unholstered his handgun and pointed it at her chest, fast enough to surprise her, he noted. That might be useful to keep in mind later on.

"So what's it gonna be? Are you going to follow orders or am I going to have to put you down?"

Azi was seething with barely contained anger. Her claws were outstretched aggressively, and her pupils were dilated into large, dark circles. She might be strong and fast, but she wasn't faster than a bullet...was she?

Moralez reached into the pocket of his pants with his free hand and tossed her the remaining nutrient bar, a gesture of goodwill. It landed at her feet, and she stared at it, a furious expression on her face. He got the feeling that this wasn't about the food at all, something deeper was going on here. Her eyes rose to meet his, and she spat a curse in her native tongue.

"You are not fit to be Alpha, you are weak, you made bad decisions."

"Alpha?" he repeated, confused. "What the hell are you talking about? What does that mean?"

He saw the glint in her yellow eyes too late, the contraction of her muscles. As if in slow motion, he watched her duck and charge, propelling herself forward on her spring-loaded legs. He squeezed the trigger, the 1911 recoiling, expelling a bronze bullet casing with a swirl of smoke. The projectile blew past her hair, the only sign of its passage a ruffling of her orange mane in its wake, and she was upon him before he could ready another shot. She slammed her open palm into his chest, knocking all the breath out of him. He collapsed to the floor, heaving as he tried to suck air into his empty lungs. She stepped on his wrist until he released the handgun, then kicked it away across the dirt. She gave him a moment to recover, and he rose to his hands and knees, coughing. Azi crouched, and lowered one of her massive hands to grip a fistful of his hair, Moralez wincing in pain as she pulled his head up and snarled into his ear.

"You can't even defend yourself, you miserable ape. I am Alpha now, we do what I say."

"I'll have you...court-marshaled," he spat, still catching his breath. "You're going against the wall for this, I'll...make sure of it."

"You aren't in a position to make sure of anything, and when I'm done with you, you won't want to."

"Talk sense you goddamned fleabag," he growled. She tugged his hair in response, and he gritted his teeth.

"Keep fighting me, see where it gets you."

There was an odd look on her face now, her eyes playing over his body. Was that hunger? Did Borealans eat humans? She flung him backwards and released his hair, slamming him against the wall, and he sank onto his sleeping bag in a heap. She stood at full height, leering down at him, and her pink tongue left her mouth to wet her lips. Fuck, she really was about to eat him. He was defenseless, except for...but he'd have to be fast. Provoke her, wait for her to get close, then strike.

He began to laugh, sputtering as his burning lungs worked overtime. Azi cocked her head, not understanding his reaction.

"You call that a punch? Felt like a light breeze."

She balled her fists again and leaned closer, angry for sure. But there was something else, a longing in her stare that set him on edge.

"Oh, I can do worse," she whispered in a mocking tone.

"Why don't you say that to my face?"

She crouched and leaned closer, her pink nose an inch from his. He could feel her hot breath on his skin. His hand inched slowly towards the knife in his boot as he maintained eye contact, trying to keep her focused on him.

"I can make you beg, first for the pain to stop, then for it to continue..."

He drew his knife, the blade angled downwards, and drove it towards her neck with all of his strength. She was faster than him. Her reaction times, her reflexes, the firing of her powerful muscles. There was no way that he could have taken her by surprise. She caught his wrist in her large hand, a trickle of red blood staining her orange fur. The tip of the blade had found its mark, but it had only penetrated one or two millimeters. The tightness of her grip became unbearable, and he released his hold on the knife.

She touched a fingertip to the small cut, rubbing the crimson fluid between the fleshy pads on her thumb and index finger, biting her lip.

"You've stung me, little insect, and now I'm going to crush you."

He swung a punch at her with his free hand, but she dodged it easily, shackling his arms in her steely grip. She slammed him to the floor, pinning him under her weight on the sleeping bag, then her oddly dexterous tail snaked over her back and bound his wrists above his head like a sinewy rope. He struggled against the appendage, but it was all muscle, he was completely overcome. For all his training and experience, he was powerless, immobilized before this massive alien.

She straddled him, her face reddening as she wet her lips again, tracing the contours of his body with her amber eyes. She was predatory, but Moralez felt less and less like she intended to eat him. What was her plan?

"I love it when you fight me, there wouldn't be any sport in it otherwise."

She traced his exposed chest with her wicked, hooked claws, drawing red welts in his skin. He shivered and writhed as they burned into him, the pain awakening his senses, amplifying them. He was suddenly aware of the pressure that her firm, steely thighs were applying around his waist, the heat and moisture that penetrated his clothing. He looked up at her burning cheeks and realized that she was aroused, she was burning up. What did she intend to do to him?

"So fragile, so weak, so easy..."

She raked her other hand across his belly, breaking the skin slightly, leaving three scratches that welled almost imperceptibly with blood. He bucked and grunted, his body trying to save itself with futile, primal struggling. His hands were bound too tightly by her tail, and even with leverage he wouldn't have been able to lift her, it felt like an elephant was sitting on him.

"In my culture, we scar people who don't know their place, it serves as a memory. Your flesh is so yielding, I could carve you up like meat. Some part of me wants to spill your guts, to watch the blood drain from you." She closed her eyes and rolled her head back, grinding her wide, heavy hips into his groin. "But then the fun would be over too quickly."

She leaned over him, tugging at his hair with her long fingers to pull his head aside, and pressed her fat lips against his carotid artery. His blood ran cold, and he tensed as he felt her sharp teeth dig into his skin, his racing heart making the vein pulse against her sharp incisors. Her breath was warm and sweet, and he shuddered as her long, feline tongue grazed his tender flesh to taste his sweat and his fear. He felt her chuckle as he trembled under her touch, her black, meat-hook claws tracing the line of his clavicle. She moved down to the nape of his neck, mouthing and kissing as she went, then bit his shoulder. He felt her teeth pierce his skin, burning pain flaring through his nervous system, forcing a cry from his lips that he tried desperately to stifle. Her bite force was incredible, she was locked onto him like a vice. Yet even through the pain, he could feel that she was holding back. This was nothing to her, a love bite, a hickey.

She withdrew, leaving a ring of swollen, sore tooth marks that seeped a slow trickle of blood. She dragged her rough tongue across the wounds, savoring his metallic taste as he groaned. She smacked her lips in an exaggerated display, making sure that he was watching as her agile tongue snaked forth to catch a stray droplet from her chin.

"You taste so good, sweet, like syrup. Blood is an aphrodisiac to us, you know. The warmth, the texture, the aroma of a defeated enemy. It excites me."

She ground her groin into him again, and with a pang of shame, he realized he was semi-hard. She noticed his expression and laughed at him as she rolled her hips.

"Humans get the picture, eventually. This is the way of things, you'll learn how to submit to your betters."

"Fuck you," Moralez spat, putting on his best stoic face. She giggled, an oddly feminine sound coming from such a large, heavily muscled creature.

"That's the idea, L.T." She leaned closer, nuzzling his cheek with her nose. "I'm going to kiss you now, and if you bite, I'll put your eyes out. Understand?" She pinched his lower lip between her teeth and tugged, then released it, waiting for a reply. He elected to glare at her instead. If she had wanted to fuck, to relieve stress...even to enjoy what might well be their last night alive, she could have just asked. She had a handsome, sculpted body, he wouldn't have refused. But this didn't feel like it was about sex, it was about power, control. She was asserting herself over him, and she wanted him to know it.

She pressed her soft lips against his now, parting them to tease him with gentle, tentative strokes of her dexterous tongue. The sensation sent a pleasant chill down his spine, and he felt his erection rise to full prominence, throbbing as she eased her organ deeper. She became more confident and aggressive as her kiss dragged on, cradling his head in her large hands, almost loving as she probed his throat. Her tongue was impossibly long and thick, coiling like a snake, the feline barbs tickling the roof of his mouth. He tasted his blood on her breath as her saliva mixed with his own. She wasn't just kissing him, she was invading his head. She was violating him, muddling his beleaguered mind with her unexpected affection. Worse, she was good at it. Too good. He felt his hard member press against her crotch as his eyelids drooped of their own accord.

Just as he was beginning to relax and forget the pain that pulsed in his shoulder, she scoured his ribs with her claws, leaving stinging trails that jolted him from his trance. She muffled his surprised exclamation with her roving tongue, the slippery, meaty organ filling his mouth obscenely.

She waited for him to stop struggling, then released him with a wet pop, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and smirking at him as he panted.

"You don't know what to feel, do you? Don't think. Let me think in your place, then do as I say. That's the point."

She sat up straight, pulling her sports bra over her head. Her breasts resisted for a moment, straining against the fabric, then they fell free as she removed their support. They bounced gently as they settled, firm and pert despite their immense size and weight. They were larger than his head, full and inviting, his eyes drawn to them with an almost magnetic power. Her pink nipples were erect, and beads of her sweat dripped down her bronzed skin, the sheen reflecting the scattered light of the discarded torch. Moralez felt saliva pool in his mouth despite himself, and resisted the urge to swallow conspicuously for fear that it might betray his lust. She knew he was looking, she had intended it, and his eyes followed her hand as it moved slowly down her impressive body. She paused to knead her breast, her flesh filling her palm and spilling between her furry fingers like cookie dough. When she let go of it, the sumptuous globe sprang back to its original shape, her fat wobbling enticingly. She ran her fingers down her torso and over her flat stomach, her chiseled abdominal muscles bulging, a solitary vein breaking up the smoothness that peeked enticingly over her low-cut pants. She undid her belt, then gradually lowered the zipper on her fly, teasing him. She stood for a moment, stepping out of her trousers, Moralez' arms still firmly bound above his head by her long tail. She was wearing tight-fitting spats beneath, or maybe bike shorts. They clung to her figure, the fabric straining against the bulging muscles of her thighs and butt, the crotch sodden and discolored. She hooked her claws into the waistband and tugged them down, the elastic sliding over her smooth, tanned skin and struggling to pass over the exaggerated curves of her figure. As he had assumed, the fur on her feet did not extend all the way up her limbs. Much like on her arms, the downy coat ended at her knees, leaving her round thighs clean and flush.

She dropped the garment on the dirt floor, then lowered herself over him. This time her thick thighs closed around his head, her drooling loins hovering an inch above his face, so close that he could feel her heat on his cheeks. She crooned at him, peering down over the mounds of her breasts, and splayed her delicate lips with her fingers. She exposed her glistening, pink flesh to him, a solitary rope of her excitement dripping down onto his chin.

"Serve your Alpha..."

He turned his face away. She snarled and gripped a handful of his hair, yanking him painfully back into position.

"If you want to keep your tongue, use it, or I'll pluck it from your head."

He extended it reluctantly, and she drove her hips down, forcing her groin into his face. He sputtered, her leaking juices flooding his mouth and staining his lips. She was burning up, feverish, her flesh was almost too hot to touch. She yanked his hair again, eliciting a pained gasp. She was so damned rough with him and yet he got the impression that she was holding back, careful not to seriously injure him, but enjoying his discomfort. He doubted whether she would follow through on her threats to maim him, but he couldn't be sure. Nothing about her personality was stable or reasonable, she was beyond control.