Book 4 in the series Trek Mi Q'an
Kara Q'ana Tal has been promised in marriage to Cam K'al Ra since she was a few months old. Determined to experience freedom rather than marriage, Kara flees from Cam and seeks refuge within the matriarchal planet of Galis.
With the blessing of Kara's father, the emperor, Cam sets out to track his wayward bride down, determined to claim her for all time.
Book 4: No Escape, tells us the story of Zor & Kyra's daughter from book 1.
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from No Escape by Jaid Black
The Trefa Jungle
Approximately one Nuba-hour outside of Valor City
Planet Galis, 6049 Y.Y. (Yessat Years)
With the silent and agile cunning of a heeka-beast stalking its prey, Kara Gy'at Li, nee Kara Q'ana Tal, slithered on all fours atop the dense tropical forest floor of the Trefa jungle. Like the other pack hunters accompanying her today, she wore a pair of thigh-high leather maroon combat boots, but was otherwise completely naked. Her body had been smeared all o'er with maroon tishi paint by male servants, allowing her and the other female warriors she hunted with to blend in with the maroon jungle that surrounded them.
"Jana," Kara murmured into the communication device fastened into one ear, "I have a visual confirmation of the prey. Proceed with Operation Bag and Tag."
Ten Yessat yards away, Jana raised one fist--the Galian equivalent to the thumbs-up symbol--to the bride-to-be situated to her left. "Ready your hunters, Tora." She whispered the words under her breath whilst simultaneously clicking on her maltoosa to stunner mode. "Proceed on three." Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she stealthily crept under a tu-tu bush. "One," she murmured into the communication device shared by every pack hunter on the mission. "Two..."
Kara felt her muscles clench in anticipation, awaiting the final signal from Jana to ambush. When Jana said "three", all the hellfire in Nukala would break loose. A quick glance to the right confirmed that the other Gy'at Li sisters were ready to strike as well. Kari and Klykka held their maltoosas firmly in hand, whilst Dorra prepared her laser scan.
All was prepared.
The prey had been surrounded on all four sides.
'Twas ridiculous in the extreme to hunt humanoid males, she thought grimly.
"Banzai!" In unison, the pack hunters roared out the battle cry that had been taught to them by Kari Gy'at Li as they exploded from the jungle on all sides and encircled the frightened Galian males. The males screamed out their terror, two of them fainting dead away on the spot at the sight of so many women warriors preparing to subdue them as marriage chattel.
The remaining two males began to slowly back away, their eyes wide with upset and their lips threatening to break into sobbing quivers.
Crying males, fainting males--Kara half sighed and half harrumphed. Her lips pinched together disapprovingly. Five Yessat years past, she had sought freedom from a certain Trystonni warrior for this? Ahh, 'twas ironic for a certainty.
"Kara!" Dorra bellowed as she sprinted away from the enclosure of males. "The big one is getting away. Aid me, sister!"
Kara's head shot up. Her glowing blue eyes narrowed at the form of the retreating male. By the sands, she grumbled, 'twas the six-and-a-half-footer hightailing it into the thick of the jungle. Males of that height and brawn were highly coveted hunting booty because they garnered such large sums from the brides who desired a marriage union with them. Leastways, that particular six-and-a-half-footer would garner them no sum at all for Dorra coveted him as a mate for herself.
"I'm right behind you." Kara wasted no time in aiding Dorra. She had spent the last five Yessat years on Galis learning to become a proficient warrior and pack hunter. 'Twas what she excelled at. 'Twas why all hunting parties desired to count her amongst their numbers. She was fast, she was agile, and she was wicked-good at bagging and tagging.
Bagging and tagging, the Galian equivalent to courtship, was a sport Kara had never dreamed existed back when she'd been a little girl on Tryston. Wenches hunting down males for mates? 'Twas unheard of on a planet where 'twas the males who did the hunting and the females who got captured.
But Galis was a different culture altogether, a fact that reared its head in just about every facet of daily life. Bagging and tagging pack-hunting parties, for instance, operated every moon-rising during the hunting season. Sometimes Kara was a part of the pack, sometimes she was not. Leastways, if the price offered by the potential bride desirous of having a particular male bagged and tagged was exorbitant enough to lure her, Jana, and the other Gy'at Li sisters into hunting, she usually was a part of it.
This particular pack hunt would reap Kara, Jana, and their adoptive sisters a large sum of credits. Having decided to kill five haja birds with one trelli stone, the Gy'at Lis had set out last moon-rising to capture four prime male specimens at the same time. One of those males, the six-and-a-half-footer, would be Dorra's mate and therefore garner them no wage, but the other three they had been contracted to hunt down by their brides-to-be would reap them nigh unto fifty thousand credits in total.
Hunting season was o'er in a fortnight, so 'twas necessary to earn as many credits as possible. With the close of hunting season, the Gy'at Lis would holiday for a month, then recommence their tutelage in the erotic arts. Leastways, now that the five of them garnered such high pack-hunting wages, 'twas no longer necessary to perform serving wench jobs at dives to earn a living. Instead, their family unit devoted itself to pack-hunting, which reaped a living that was large enough to pay for all five of them to be schooled in the erotic arts.
For a Galian female, there was no greater honor than being named a High Mystik of Valor City--a title none but the most schooled in the erotic and warring arts could claim. Kara was proud of the fact that one member of her adoptive family--Klykka--was already a High Mystik. And then there was Kari--'twould take her mayhap one more season of apprenticing before her mistress granted her with a sector of her own to rule o'er. 'Twas Klykka who ruled o'er the sector of Gy'at Li.
Kara clicked on her zorgs and took flight. She concentrated on recapturing the retreating male, ignoring Jana's cry-out to Kari that a six-footer was escaping. Kari could handle the six-footer without aid. 'Twas nigh unto child's play for a wench so close to becoming a High Mystik.
Flying at a high speed directly toward the six-and-a-half-footer, Kara waited until the precise moment she was upon him before aiming her maltoosa down and firing it. The male bellowed, making a sound of pain before stumbling to the ground and landing on his backside. Unable to move, he could do naught but watch as Kara landed before him, wearing her thigh-high maroon combat boots, and the maroon warpaint spread all o'er her naked body.
"Shh," Kara soothed as she squatted down beside him. "'Twill do you no good to get yourself all worked up." She could see his chest heaving up and down from his labored breathing, which she'd come to realize o'er the years meant that the male was both tired from the stunning and frightened of his impending fate.
The entire ritual was too close to Trystonni mating for her to have a care for. Only in this situation the roles had been reversed and 'twas the male who had been rendered nigh unto unconscious that he might not flee from his future mate. When Kara searched the male's terrified gaze, she couldn't help but to think of her own situation--or the situation that would have been hers had she remained on Tryston.
Kara knew that although the bagged male was frightened just now, he would be happy for his fate after he joined his body with Dorra's. On the next moon-rising when Dorra claimed him for a mate, his hearts would belong to her as well as his body. 'Twas ever the way of things on Galis.
Nay--she cared not for the similarities between the Galians and the Trystonnis for it made her wonder whether or not her hearts would have swooned with love if--
Nay. 'Twas no sense in dwelling upon it. She was dead to him now.
Kara sighed, not having a care for the direction her thoughts were straying in. She shook her head as if willing them away, then absently wondered to herself how long it would take Dorra to catch up with them. The six-and-a-half-footer wasn't the only tired one. This pack hunt had lasted two straight moon-risings, the four males having escaped once before. Dorra had chosen her mate well, she conceded. The male was cunning and agile and would gift her with many strong daughters.
The captured male's breathing grew more labored, which induced Kara to break out of her contemplative thoughts. "There now," she cooed as she removed the loincloth he wore, "'tis naught to fear of your mistress Dorra." She came down on her knees beside him and leaned o'er him, that her breasts dangled before him. "She is the bravest of warriors and skilled in all things erotic. No male could be happier with a bride such as Dorra Gy'at Li."
The male's breathing began to calm, which caused Kara to smile. She grabbed his thick penis by the root and began to slowly masturbate him up and down with one hand whilst she soothingly stroked his chest with the other. 'Twas the least she could do to keep him bagged and calm until Dorra caught up with them and tagged him.
The male's eyes closed on a shaky expelling of breath. Kara could tell from his innocent, unschooled reaction to her touching that he was still a virgin--a fact that would please the future mother of his children immensely.
"Please," the male whimpered, realizing he could do naught to stop her from stroking his manpart for the stunner had zapped his energy, "I--ohh," he breathed out. His teeth gritted. "Please do not make me do bad things, mistress."
He sounded as if he were about to cry. Kara sighed. Sure enough, she espied tears welling up in his lavender eyes. His bottom lip began to tremble. "I'm not that kind of boy," he sobbed.
Kara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Leastways, she had learned o'er the Yessat years that all Galian males were given to extreme emotion. So instead she smiled down at him, but did not cease the stroking of his cock. "What is your name?" she asked gently.
His bottom lip continued to quiver as his eyelashes batted away his tears. "Vrek," he said shakily.
"'Tis a nice name, Vrek." She smiled as her voice gentled yet further. "I think it best do you allow yourself to be a naughty boy, Vrek. 'Tis for a certainty your mistress will expect much more from you on the next moon-rising when she takes you to the vesha hides."
She immediately realized 'twas the wrong thing to say. The six-and-a-half-footer's eyes widened on a gasp, then ten seconds later he broke down into a fit of uncontrollable crying.
Kara winced. By the sands, what had she been thinking, scaring him as she had in regards to his wedding night? She sighed. Her only excuse was that her mind was distracted as of late. Distracted with thoughts of a warrior she had no business musing o'er. She had given him up all of those Yessat years past, and now 'twas for a certainty he would never again welcome her home with open arms.
As her adoptive sister Kari would say, hindsight is 20-20. The past could not be changed.
But she didn't care, she firmly reminded herself. She would one day be named a High Mystik of Valor City and would rule o'er a sector all her own. 'Twas what she wanted. 'Twas what she had aspired to when first she'd arrived on Galis with Jana. So why then must she keep reminding herself of her own happiness?
Because, she thought forlornly, naught had turned out the way she had envisioned it would when she'd been a young and immature twenty-two Yessat years and determined to carve out her own destiny. She hadn't truly considered the fact that she'd never again be able to go home to Tryston. Aye, she had known it in her head, but not in her hearts. She missed her family. And she hated the fact that they all thought her long dead. Her beloved sire, her equally beloved mani...
An image of her favored sibling Jor popped into her mind, causing her to smile sadly. Jor would be twenty-one Yessat years now--nigh close to the age when Cam Ka'l Ra had first made his claim o'er Kara's future known.
Cam, she thought with a nostalgic smile. When she had been a girl-child still clinging to her mani's skirt, she had loved him with all of her hearts. His tall, muscled form and golden good looks had made him seem larger than life to her. The way he'd always had a care for her, the way his glowing matpow-colored eyes had always promised to cherish her--mayhap 'twas possible he had coveted her as more than a marriage prize. Mayhap he had actually loved--
Cease your mental babbling, Kara! she chastised herself. You are free. Independent and free. 'Twas what you wanted, remember?
Kara's nostrils flared as she began masturbating Vrek in fast, firm strokes. Bah! 'Twas ridiculous, this bagging business. The males of Galis were far too weak and unschooled to have a care for.
The male began to moan loudly at the frenzied milking of his cock, replacing the weeping he had been doing but Nuba-moments prior. "Mistress," he said hoarsely as his chest heaved up and down and sweat broke out on his forehead, "please do n--ooooh."
Vrek closed his eyes as his entire body shuddered, then convulsed on a groan of completion. Warm liquid shot up from his cock, spewing from the hole at the thick tip and saturating his belly.
Kara grinned at the look of bliss on his face. 'Twas much the way she had felt the first time her favored Kefa slave had brought her to peak. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked in an exaggeratedly patient tone. 'Twas said with more patience than she felt for a certainty. "'Twill feel even better when your mistress impales her channel upon your cock and rides you into spurting within her."
Vrek's eyes rounded. "'Twill feel better?" he whispered.
"Aye." Kara smiled, making the pep talk up as she went along. In truth, she had no notion what being mounted felt like for she was still a virgin herself. Try as she might, she hadn't been able to bring herself to couple with the male servants as other Galian wenches were wont to do. "'Twill feel like bliss."
Her adoptive sister Kari had told her that the inability to couple with the servants was an affliction brought on by having dabbled with a warrior. Leastways, 'twas the very affliction Kari had suffered from ever since she'd been mounted by a warrior nine Yessat years past. Kari had coupled with no one since she'd fled from the warrior--the same as Kara had been unable to couple at all.
Vrek's breathing calmed as he considered that. "For a certainty?" he squeaked.
Kara nodded her head. "Aye."
Just then Dorra burst through the maroon jungle trees, the severe look of the huntress making her features appear grim. 'Twas a sight that sent Vrek's eyes back into tearing fits. Kara grunted, her lips puckering into a frown as she rose to greet her sister. "I had him calmed, dunce. Look what you've gone and done."
Dorra grunted back, her severe look softening when she laid eyes upon her hunting booty. Naked but for her thigh-high maroon boots and the warpaint she was sporting, her breasts bobbed up and down as she strode briskly toward the six-and-a-half-footer and prepared to tag him. Her nipples hardened into tight points as she came down beside him and ran a hand along the sleek contours of his body. For a male who was not a warrior, Kara had to admit he was impressive of face and form. She knew for a certainty why Dorra coveted him so.
"Calm thyself," Dorra murmured as she gently swiped away his tears with a thumb. "'Tis naught to fear of me, handsome one."
She placed the laser scan across the length of his cock and detonated it. The highly advanced chemical branding device made a whirring sound, then a moment later Vrek was officially tagged. 'Twas done. The six-and-a-half-footer could never couple with any wench but Dorra or his cock would explode.
When Vrek whimpered, Dorra soothed the stinging sensation the laser scan had left behind by running her tongue across the length of the brand. "'Twill be all healed in time for me to claim you next moon-rising," she murmured between licks. "From the morrow onward, thy body will know naught but sweet bliss from mine."
As she watched the Galian claiming scene unfold, Kara idly considered the fact that a warrior would never submit to being tagged. A warrior would have done his own brand of tagging via a bridal necklace. When the noise of hysterically sobbing Galian males reached her ears through the dense Trefa jungle, she wondered if that would have been such a bad thing.
Kara grimaced at the inferior sound. Trystonni females might grow frightened when they are claimed by warriors, but the wenches are never so weak-willed as to succumb to tearing fits. She sighed, realizing as she did that she had better grow accustomed to Galian males and their inferior temperaments the soonest.
She had no choice. 'Twas either that or never be mated.
Kara gritted her teeth. 'Twas ironic for a certainty...