“No, I mean, er, yeah. So, er, what’s a princess like you doing on a planetoid like this?”
“We’re trying to have sex.”
“Have you been on Hideaway very long?”
“Far too long.”
“Nice place you’ve got here.”
“It’s not nice, and it’s not ours. You think we want to be here, making impossible clothes for temperamental aliens? We’re here because we’re trapped, paying off our debts.”
“Through gambling? You lost your shirt?”
“We never wear a shirt. If we wanted a shirt, we could make one. As a young princess, we learned embroidery. It’s one of our three skills. It’s also our qualification for this demeaning job we were forced into after being abandoned on Hideaway. And who abandoned us here?”
“Who?”
“An Earth person. A male Earth person.”
“Oh,” said Norton. “But you said you liked Earth persons, Earth people.”
“Some Earth persons. One male Earth person in particular.”
“Me?”
“Not you. He was so handsome, so strong, so wonderful, so perfect.” Princess Janesmith gazed up, remembering. “Definitely not you.”
While her eyes weren’t on him, Norton retreated two steps. There was still no trace of the wall, let alone a doorway, just more and more drifting lines of soft material. One by one, they were as light as gossamer, whatever gossamer was; together, they were almost impenetrable. He kept his arms behind him, yanking the layers of flimsy fabric aside, trying to force his way back.
Janesmith seemed to have no problem with the stuff, simply brushing it aside as she remorselessly pursued him.
“But he abandoned you,” said Norton.
“He wasn’t to blame. It was another Earth person who left us here. When we find him, we’ll make full use of our second skill.”
“What’s that?” Norton didn’t want to know the answer, but he wanted to keep Janesmith talking.
“Death,” hissed the Algolan, baring her fangs. “We killed three of our sisters. They called us the ugly sister. Now they’re the ugly ones. Ugly corpses!”
If Janesmith was considered ugly, then her other sisters must have been absolutely beautiful. When they were alive.
“We should have executed Marysmith when we had the chance,” added Janesmith. “We wouldn’t be here now, slaving like a peasant. We would be Empress. Empress of Algol!”
Janesmith flexed her claws, and her whole body seemed to ripple. There was something almost feline about her exotic features, her lithe shape, her supple movement.
“From what you say, Algol isn’t a constitutional democracy?”
“What?”
“Crowns and thrones, princesses and empresses. You don’t operate the one-vote system?”
“We have a one-vote system,” said Janesmith. “The Empress is the one with the vote.”
“What about ‘one man, one vote?’ ”
“On Algol, men are nothing. Their only purpose is for pleasure and for siring children.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve talked enough. You must be aroused by now.”
“Er… no.”
“You soon will be. Our third skill, the other royal talent we spent so long perfecting, is the art of sensual enjoyment.”
Norton could no longer move. He was Janesmith’s helpless prisoner, entangled in a spider’s web of gauzy fabric, drugged by the exotic aromas that filled the air, trapped by her hypnotic alien eyes.
“Now we will have sex, Duke Wayne,” she said. “That is an imperial command.”
Princess Janesmith stepped toward him, her arms going around his shoulders, and she pulled him close. Their lips met.
He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t resist. No longer in control of himself, Norton’s mouth opened. They kissed.
And kissed. And kissed.
He’d never been kissed like this. Her tongue sinuously twined around his, explored his mouth, his palate, his throat. He felt her warm breasts against his chest, while her fingers clawed up and down his spine. His passion rose, his ardour grew.
She finally released him, licking her lips with her tongue. Her forked tongue.
Wayne Norton watched as the Algolan princess discarded her clothes. Her strange garment began to unravel, falling apart brick by brick, revealing more and more of her blue flesh.
He’d never seen a naked girl before, either human or alien.
Until now, the closest he’d come had been gazing at photographs in Playboy.
Tits and ass, that was all a centrefold would reveal. The secret heart of the female anatomy was a complete blank.
Janesmith stood nude in front of him.
He should have bought a bugstrap.
Norton’s heart was racing, his mouth was dry. He had waited so long for this moment. Slowly he looked down, down her perfect blue body, until his eyes finally focused on her crotch.
Where he saw—
He blinked.
Where he saw what looked like—
It couldn’t be!
Could it?
Teeth!
Two sets of tiny curved fangs waiting to devour their prey.
Their male prey.
He suddenly felt very dizzy. His head was spinning and he started to f-a-i-n-t…
He’d waited forever for this moment, for Susie to strip off her T-shirt and reveal what she’d let him touch but never see. Her breasts were wonderful, everything he’d dreamed of. So shapely. So firm. So blue.
So blue?
Then she unzipped her jeans. The colour matched her boobs. As her denims dropped, she tucked her thumbs into the elastic of her briefs and started to slide them down.
This would be the ultimate revelation, the forbidden zone he had neither seen nor even been allowed to touch.
She was naked and soft, he was naked and hard.
Susie smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. He always loved the way her tongue snaked into his mouth. That was because her tongue was forked. He’d never noticed before. And her teeth were so very sharp. Why had he never realised?
Because this wasn’t Susie…
She was someone else, someone different, someone alien!
That was when he woke up.
With a scream.
He opened his eyes wide, discovered he was naked, and closed his eyes again.
Not wanting to, not wanting not to, he slid his right hand down his body. He’d already lost a finger on Hideaway. Had he lost something else, something infinitely more vital?
It was still there and he sighed with relief as he grasped it in his palm.
Then the door blinked open and a naked girl stepped into the room.
“Susie?” he said.
“Shut up,” the girl said.
She was naked but not defenceless, and she pointed her gun at him.
“Who are you?”
She wasn’t Susie, but at least she wasn’t blue.
“Don’t stare at me when you’re playing with yourself!”
He hadn’t woken up. This was still his dream. He’d stare at her if he wanted to. Which he did.
She was good looking, of course. How could a fantasy girl be otherwise? Tall and slender, but with all the necessary curves. Her hair was red, curly, and short, in two places.
“You’re human?” she asked, moving closer to him. “From Earth?”
He wondered how he had got back to his room. But if he was still asleep, he might not be in his room. Where were his clothes? His new ones, his old ones, any clothes. He wouldn’t have been naked by choice because it made him feel even colder. Neither would he have chosen a null-bed, lying suspended in mid-air.
As the girl came nearer, he covered his groin with both hands. She tapped his hands with the gun. He let go.
“Just checking,” she said. She glanced back at the invisible doorway. “You’re my alibi. I’ve been here for an hour. Two hours. Understand?”
She climbed onto the nullbed, straddling him, and he didn’t notice any teeth.