Worlds of BBW Erotic Romance - Box Set (28 page)

Damn, and my best basketball playing years
already behind me…

She twirled around and noticed that the stretch marks on her belly and the cellulite on her thighs were gone… Well, she was still curvy and plump, but the skin imperfections had vanished. She really looked like some kind of Rubenesque goddess.

With blueberry hair!

Her hair was
blueberry
colored! Deep blue with just a hint of purple, slightly different from Gearon’s midnight blue shade. And it was full bodied, bouncy, and shiny… And naturally curly, with ringlets! She shook and nodded and bounced her head, watching the hair swirl like she was in some sort of goddamned Vidal Sassoon commercial.

She looked down to the clothes which Gearon had placed on a low shelf for her. He’d said they’d belonged to his sister-in-law, his brother’s Bond-Mate, Korianna Teague… The one she’d seen the in the vision. He’d assured Heather that the woman would have wanted her to have the clothes.

“She was a fierce and proud Lady, as are you, my beautiful Heather… She would certainly approve of you taking these garments,” he’d told her.

The main outfit was of a silvery material, metallic-looking, which nonetheless was soft and light as cotton. Had it been an Earth garment, she would have thought it was a bathing suit… And a pretty damn revealing one at that.

She quickly pulled it on.

It had a deep V halter top that exposed a LOT of skin… down to below her navel. Her cleavage was practically bursting out, the boobs barely held in check by the narrow straps of fabric covering them. Yet somehow, the alien fabric was clingy and supportive enough that her heavy boobs felt secure, without need for a bra. It was comfortable, at least…

But as for her large nipples… Technically, the garment covered them, but it was so thin and clingy that every little bump and detail could be seen.

Down below, the bottom portion was skimpy as well, the thong-like rear no more than a piece of shiny butt-floss.

Well, she thought, clothes is clothes, beggars can’t be choosers… My old jeans certainly ain’t going to fit on my giant Mekron Lady butt now.

And someone, she was certain Gearon would LOVE this getup.

Then there were the boots. Thigh high boots with two inch heels, fashioned from a glossy, dark blue material that reminded her of snakeskin, inlaid with a slightly irregular pattern of hexagons.

No zippers or buckles, so she just tugged one over her bare foot… As she slipped it on, it seemed to caress her foot and leg, coolly cushioned and silky soft on the inside.

But OH the boots looked sooooo badass.

These boots are made for butt-kicking,
she thought. Nancy Sinatra, eat your heart out.

She looked at herself in the mirror again, trying to get the whole impression… Blue hair, violet eyes, space hooker suit…

Like an alien dominatrix out of a teenage anime geek’s wet dream, she thought. All I need is a glowing energy whip.

But y
ou ROCK this, baby,
a strong, proud voice in her head told her.

A Lady should be
dress boldly. So that all will worship her curves…

That voice again…

Who did you expect? Who’s always been making smartass comments to herself? But now you’re a Mekron Lady, so no more passive-aggressive helpless little girl bull crap, yes?

The voice was her own, Heather’s voice. But it had a deepness and an arrogance she’d only felt previously on certain occasions… Usually when very drunk.

Something had happened to her mind… Hormonal, or maybe due to brain swelling from her sudden growth? She’d have to ask Gearon about it…

But for now, she needed to learn how to fly a starship. She assumed it would be a crash course…

Er… maybe crash is a bad choice of words?

#

When Heather strode jauntily back into the ship’s main chamber, Gearon swiveled around in his chair. Freshly showered and dressed in his jeans again, he had been studying something on his weapon control panel…

When he saw her dressed in her new outfit, his sturdy jaw dropped wide open, and his violet eyes blinked rapidly.

Heather smiled triumphantly. It was
exactly
the reaction she’s been hoping for. Apparently, the space slut outfit had done the trick for her Lord.

“Welllll…” she purred huskily, “all dressed up for my first day of spaceship school… Do I look OK, daddy?”

Gearon made as if to rise from his seat…

But, on a sudden, strange impulse, she told him: “No. STAY THERE.”

He did so, plopping his firm behind back into the chair. Though one blue eyebrow was raised curiously now as he watched her…

She strode forward and shook her head. “Don’t you even LOOK at me,” she said.

With a slight growl, he turned his gaze to the floor.

Heather had a momentary thrill at being able to order the big man around so. But then, guilt and a feeling of just plain
wrongness
took over, she regretted having done it. This was her man—her husband, Bond-Mate, Lord, etcetera--and he didn’t deserve to be toyed with.

But some instinct had driven her to do it. Why? Maybe to see what it felt like?

It was…
interesting…
to be dominant like this, but not really her style… Or Gearon’s, she knew.

“So,” she asked him, “are you just going to keep staring at the carpet like a shy little schoolboy? Is that what you want?”

“NO,” came a deep rumble from his throat. He looked up, glaring evilly at her—

--and suddenly he was on his feet, his hands entwined in her blueberry hair, pulling her face to his.

His tongue pried into her mouth, his lips crushed against hers… Then, he sucked her tongue fiercely into his mouth, nibbling on it. The roughest kiss she’d ever had… but
wonderful.

When he released her, she pulled away, panting… And he gave one of her exposed butt-cheeks a hard squeeze.

“I know how to take what I want, Lady,” he said.

“Indeed,” she whispered back. “And I like you being in charge. That’s one of the reasons I fell for you. Though we’re both going to have to work together if we’re going to stop Grommalacht.”

She turned towards the lavender and pink pilot’s console at the front of the ship.

“How do I start this piloting lesson?” she asked.

Gearon shrugged. “I am honestly not sure, prettiness. But maybe there?” He pointed towards the handprint-shaped depressions at the center of the console.

She sat down in the chair in front of the console, which now seemed exactly the right size to softly cup her curvaceous Mekron butt. She slid her hands, palms down, into the depressions on the panel. They fit almost perfectly.

There was a tingling in her fingertips, heading up her arms and then enveloping her entire body, accompanied by a slight numbness.

And then--

She was part of the ship again, this time seeing outside of it, viewing all around the ship as if she had three-hundred-sixty degree vision. The Enpathian ships still hung suspended in the freeze-frame of the “time warp” all around the silvery hull of the
Astral Tryst.

At the same time, though, she was
still seeing the console, her hands resting there, viewing them through her own human…
uh, Mekron…
eyes.

And she felt Gearon come up behind her, placing his hands reassuringly heavy on her shoulders, then moving them down to massage her shoulder blades and her spine under the light fabric of her alien garment.

But now, the ship itself seemed to urge her to look
deeper
, to view its heart and soul, and the source of its power.

She had previously imagined that the ship’s engine was like a big container filled with some kind of fiery...
stuff.

In reality, though, she now saw that there were numerous small reactors, generating plasma and particles which were funneled between various chambers by lenses of energy. Tubes and lenses spun and circulated in an impressive ballet of alien engineering. Heather didn’t understand all of it, but she got the
sense
of it, which seemed to be what the ship was trying to show her.

There was more for her to see…

But, for now, she would have to stick to the most basic principles. She willed her attention away from the reactors and towards the propulsion units.

These were at the rear of the ship--the parts that looked like silvery legs. There was no thrust or fire coming out of the ship; rather, the engine created inertia, propelling the ship through the direct application of force.

Hell, she thought, I actually understand that! Maybe I did learn something in high school physics, after all.

Now the scene shifted…

Suddenly, she was flying
Astral Tryst
through a clear azure sky under a bright white sun, over fields of scarlet grass.

Some kind of simulation,
she thought. The ship is trying to ease me into things.

She reached out with her mind and tried to turn the ship to the left.

It jerked and spun, making her nauseous…

Whoa!!! Easy does it!

This was going to take some getting used to.

She remembered the time her dad had tried to teach her how to drive the four wheel drive with a stick shift… That hadn’t turned out well.

Hopefully, this would go better.

It HAD to…

Still feeling Gearon’s soothing hands expertly caressing her back, she tried to immerse herself in the simulation…

#

Gearon’s hand was on her shoulder, shaking her.

“Prettiness,” he said, “our time—the twenty four hours—is almost gone, yes?”

She’d been immersed in the ship’s simulation, maneuvering through an obstacle course of pulsing beacons. Now, she withdrew her hands from the console, and the world of the simulation faded out.

She was back in the real world, inside the ship with Gearon. She swiveled around in her seat and looked up at him. Those sensuous lips of his were set in a hard line now, his expression determined and somber. 

“We must be ready,” he said. “My love, have you learned…?”

She nodded. “Enough. Well, I hope it’s enough, anyway. In there—in the simulation—I could do some amazing things. I feel like I could fly loop-de-loops in my sleep. But in the real world… We’ll see. I just hope you know how to aim that weapon. I can handle my end of things, eh?”

“And I can surely handle my stick… Believe me, Lady,” he said, a slight smirk on his face now as he bent down and kissed her lightly.

“Oh no,” she exclaimed, slapping her forehead. “Shit! Gearon! I forgot… “

He had been turning to stride back towards his own gunnery console. Now, he spun on his heel and turned back to her. “Yes, my Lady?”

“There’s another problem. Your weapon takes time to charge, right? We just fired it before the time slowdown took effect… “

“Yes, prettiness. But the weapon is locked in the time dilation as it has external components. It cannot be charged for readiness again until time resumes flowing for us here.”

She groaned. “Like I said, it’ll take time to charge, right? How long?”

Gearon’s brow furrowed and he let out a string of curses in the Mekron language. Heather’s Bonding to him hadn’t taught her the native tongue--but she got the tone of his swearing readily enough.

“That long, huh, baby?”

He sighed. “Two minutes, prettiness.”

Two minutes?

That could be an
eternity
if an entire Enpathian fleet were after them. But then, maybe the enemy didn’t know what they were up to, maybe Jessam’s secret had somehow remained safe…? After all, it had been twenty-four hours for her and Gearon inside the ship, but barely a micro-millisecond outside—right?

If something
were
wrong, Jessam would no longer be able to communicate using her telepathy, of course. She was now a Mekron, and not susceptible to the Enpathians psychic abilities.

Suddenly, Heather caught a glimpse of motion. An Enpathian “mermaid” flight rig on the port side of the ship seemed to ease forward as if in slo-mo, swimming slowly in air.

The world outside was no longer set on “pause,” it seemed—but was starting to move.

“Our time of reprieve has expired!” Gearon warned. “Make readiness!” He dashed for his weapon console.  

Heather slid her hands back into the handprint-shaped recessed on the console in front of her.

Neural sockets, she thought.
I should use the real name, I know the lingo now.

Quickly becoming one with the ship again, she watched as, outside the ship’s silvery hull—

--the world suddenly jerked to life.

A squadron Enpathian ships and “mermaids” circled around them…