Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Le’rank was swaggering around the stage, clearly happy to be playing for an audience.
“People of Fenushia Alpha,” he declared dramatically. “Tonight you shall witness something few have ever seen—the breeding of a genuine Moonstone goddess!”
There were murmurs of interest from the Fenushian crowd as everyone watched avidly.
“Tonight,” Le’rank continued. “As soon as her skin begins to really glow, I shall breed this female and plant my heir in her belly. An heir that will look exactly like me, thanks to advanced genetics that most of you savages wouldn’t understand, so I shall not go into it now. Sufficient to say that my son will inherit my devastating good looks and I shall inherit the throne to my kingdom as a result!”
Here he turned his narrow, rat-like face from side to side, beaming at the Fenushians as though he was doing them a favor by letting them observe his “devastating good looks.”
I’ll kill him! Sark thought again. But how? He was trapped—held in place by the damn nerve-immobilization band. How could he get free in time to save Isla from being bred? How—
“Patience, Warrior! The time is very close now—the Sleeper shall awaken!”
It was unmistakably the Goddess’s voice in his ear again. And as she spoke, Sark felt something huge flexing inside him. That part of him that he had been sensing ever since he’d signed the contract with Le’rank and had first met Isla and knew he had to save her was opening its eyes and spreading its wings. But would it break free soon enough for him to save her?
Sark didn’t know but he hoped desperately that it would.
Up on the stage, Baslik had finished his strutting. Isla’s skin was taking on a pearly, opalescent sheen that turned her ivory tones to a kind of rainbow hue. Sark could see her shivering and wondered if the terrible need to be bred which she had spoken of was even now creeping up on her.
“Ah, you see?” Le’rank exclaimed, pointing at his wife—the female he had hurt and abused both physically and emotionally for so long. “Do you see the glow coming on her? Now, at long last, the Moonstone goddess is ready to be bred! And I shall, of course, oblige her.”
He stepped up behind Isla and caressed her full ass cheeks, making her tremble even more. Sark saw a single tear run down her cheek and felt his Rage deepen as the thing inside him flexed its wings and snorted softly, icy plumes drifting from its as yet unseen nostrils.
Turning to be sure everyone could see what he was doing, Le’rank unsnapped his expensive Muldrr skin trousers and opened them wide. With a dramatic flourish, he reached in and drew out his shaft…
Only, what he drew out wasn’t what Sark had been expecting to see at all.
What the actual fuck? he thought. And when Le’rank looked down at the writhing thing in his hand, it was clear he was thinking the same thing.
For poking out from his trousers wasn’t a single, stubby shaft, which was what Sark had expected. Instead, a tentacle as long as Le’rank’s arm suddenly emerged. It waved around like a snake sniffing for prey and then, to Le’rank’s apparent horror, it split into two sections—one with a head and the other with an orifice. In fact, it looked remarkably like the thing hanging between Feed’lix’s thighs, Sark thought, frowning.
Had the radiation in the water or air here turned Le’rank into what the Fenushians called a “Two-Tail?” Or was there some other reason for his transformation, he wondered?
Suddenly he remembered the huge platter of steaming, grilled “meat” that had been served at dinner. The Goddess had warned him against it, but Le’rank had eaten enough for several males. And hadn’t Churr’um mentioned that this was the food the original Two-Tail, PASS’lix, had eaten before he changed?
Well, for whatever reason, Le’rank certainly had changed and Sark doubted there was any way to change him back.
“What’s this?” Le’rank shrieked, staring down at the double tentacle waving from his crotch. “What in the bloody hell is this?”
“Ah—a new Two-Tail has been born!”
Feed’lix came up on the stage, a wide grin on his face. He was dressed again, in a flowing garment which was cinched at the waist by a thick leather belt. Attached to the belt was a long, sharp knife, its blade glittering in the moonlight.
“Congratulations, my friend—the great god, PASS’lix had blessed you!” he exclaimed.
“What are you talking about? How is this a ‘blessing?’” Le’rank demanded, gesturing at his new double tentacle shaft. “How am I supposed to breed my wife and plant an heir in her belly with this…this thing?”
“Why, I fear you cannot make her pregnant now without the help of a One-Tail,” Feed’lix said, frowning. “For it is the mixture of the three persons who will form the child. Can you not utilize the One-Tail you brought with you—the large one there?” he asked, gesturing to Sark, who was glaring up at the stage, still frozen in place.