Dr. Kron

“Mm, thank you,” the human female murmured as Kron released her feet. “That felt good.”

Thank you?

Did she think Kron was finished already? He had only massaged the back half of her body. He still had the entire front side to rub down.

As gently as he could, Kron picked up the tiny human and turned her over on her back. Instantly, her hands shot up to cover her bare chest, and she gave a startled cry.

“Kron! What are you doing?”

The Raksha doctor didn’t speak. He would have liked to, but he couldn’t. Whenever he tried to put his thoughts into words, even the simplest ones, his throat seemed to fill with concrete. It had been that way ever since the war. Now he communicated with his hands. And his actions.

Ever so gently, he took S'vana’s left wrist between his fingers and plucked her right hand away from her chest. If she had resisted, he would have stopped. But she did not resist, not even a little. She stared up at him with a curious, hungry look in her strange moss-gray eyes. He repeated the gesture, this time pulling her left hand away, and her bare chest came fully into view.

Kron's mating appendage jumped inside his loose breeches.

He palmed the two round globes on her chest. When she was lying back like this, the soft mounds flattened slightly, but they were still quite ample, a perfect fit for his hands. They felt soft as clouds under his fingers, and he knew they contained no muscle, but he massaged them anyway, squeezing them and working them in slow circles.

“Ohhh...” the human female crooned softly and repeated her query. “Kron, what are you doing to me?”

She had not told him to stop. Kron was glad. He had no desire to stop. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to anymore.

The human’s nipples stiffened under his palms. It was a strange response, Kron thought. Before embarking on this mission, he had studied everything he could get his hands on relating to human anatomy. Most of the materials were written by Dr. Zaleros, a member of the crew who had rescued the first human, Beh’thani. A few additional materials came from Dr. Tristn, who was one of M’reen’s mates. Neither of them went into great detail about the reproductive anatomy of humans--probably because they were both so protective of their respective mates--but there had been enough information for Kron to form a relatively clear picture.

He knew, for example, that the mounds on S'vana’s chest were glands which produced milk, a white, creamy substance that human females used to feed their newborn offspring before they could eat solid food. He also knew those little pink nipples were how the offspring got the milk out.

But why were S'vana’s nipples growing erect for him? Clearly he was not a neonate--human or otherwise--yet those pretty little nipples seemed to be begging for him to suckle them.

Perhaps it was rather like the second phase of the Raksha mating dance, in which the males displayed their erect appendages so the female could observe their virility. Only in S'vana’s case, it was a fertility display. Her body was showing how good it would be at feeding offspring.

His offspring.

Kron’s appendage was swollen with arousal. It felt as if it might erupt at any moment if he wasn’t careful. He rolled the female’s equally swollen nipples between his fingers and wondered if they were about to erupt too. If he sucked on them, would he taste milk?

There was only one way to find out.

He started to lower his face to the human female's chest, but hesitated.

What about Teren? It was clear to everyone aboard The Defiance that the youngest member of the crew was infatuated with the human female. And based on the condition they had been in when they were rescued, Kron suspected they had probably mated, human style.

How would the kid react if he walked in on the doctor suckling his patient’s mammary nodules? Rakshas were a jealous breed. In the past, males had often fought to the death over a female.

But oddly enough, Kron did not think Teren would mind at all. After all, hadn’t the kid been the one who had suggested the massage in the first place? Hadn’t he been rather insistent about S'vana removing her clothes? And hadn’t he been eager to leave them alone together? Teren had claimed he had some important duties to see to, but Kron knew that wasn’t really the case.

In fact, Kron even got the impression that Teren wanted to share the female, and when Kron searched his own desires, he discovered he wanted that too. The human female was so sensitive, so responsive. She had such a capacity for pleasure. It seemed like a crime to allow her only one mate to sate her feminine hunger. She deserved multiple males to service her needs. Not just two males, but three, or perhaps even four.

Kron dipped his face to S'vana’s breast and wrapped his lips around the aching-hard bud of her nipple. She mewled softly.

“Oh God, Kron,” she whispered a third time. “What are you doing?”

Her tone made it clear she did not want him to stop. So did her little fingers, which had worked their way into his hair, caressing him as he suckled her.

He drew her nipple between his lips and stroked it with his tongue inside his mouth. No milk came flowing out of that erect nub, but that was fine. The pleasure sounds that came flowing out of the human’s mouth were reward enough.

Kron’s hand glided down the female’s smooth, twitching belly until he touched the elastic of her skimpy undergarment. Her legs parted for him willingly, and his fingers ventured onward, until he was touching her soft center. The fabric of her undergarment was sopping wet with her feminine secretions. Her mating hole was weeping.

No, not weeping. Salivating.

That little vertical mouth between her thighs was hungry. It was begging to be filled.

Still sucking her nipple, Kron stroked his fingers up and down her center. Her could feel the groove of her alien anatomy through the drenched cloth. And her could feel a hard little lump like a third nipple between her legs. When he rubbed that, the female let out and hight, keening whine.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Right there, Kron. Touch me right there--oh!”

He slipped his fingers inside her underwear and touched her skin on skin, stroking the little bundle of nerves nestled within her soft fur. He stroked her until her pelvis bucked and shuddered with spasms.

“Oh fuck!” she almost howled. “Oh fuck, Kron...”

Fuck.

The device in Kron’s ear did not translate this word. It had no direct equivalent in his language. Nevertheless, he recalled the word’s meaning from the language lessons he’d been forced to sit through prior to the mission. He had not practiced speaking the language, but his listening skills were quite good--the best out of all the members of the crew--and his memory was excellent.

Fuck: A slang term used to denote the human process of body-mating. Often used figuratively as an exclamation of shock or surprise.

Kron wanted to fuck the little human. He wanted to fuck her very badly. But he feared that would be impossible. His mating appendage was far too large for her, as thick as her own forearm. He would most certainly damage her if he tried to put it inside her.

But perhaps he could fuck her a different way.

He moved his finger deeper into her slit until he found her mating hole. Goddess, it was so tiny and tight. Human offspring must be incredibly tiny to pass through that narrow canal without causing the mother pain. Even just one of his fingers would be a tight fit. At first he just stroked the outer surface of that hole, trying to decide whether or not to penetrate her.

As if the human female had read his thoughts, she whispered, “Yes Kron. Touch me there. Touch me inside. Please...”

Kron was powerless to refuse her. His finger entered, delving slowly, backing up occasionally to help spread her flowing juices before delving deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until his knuckle was against her entrance, and his tip was brushing against the back wall of her cavity.

“Oh God,” she whimpered. “Kron, you’re so deep.”

She writhed on the table. Her wet walls squeezed around him, sucking him like a tiny mouth. Again, he thought of how good it would feel to put his hardened appendage there, but he quickly dispelled that impossible notion from his mind.

He began to stroke her, curling his finger inside her as if beckoning to something dwelling deep within her body. And soon, that invisible something started to emerge.

“Oh God, right there,” the human said. “Don’t stop, Kron. You’re going to make me... you're going to make me come!”

Come?

Kron was familiar with that word, of course. However, he was unfamiliar with this particular usage. The human did not need to come. She was already here.

He ignored this, and continued to stroke.