White Owl Stowaway…snippet 05

As much as she had fancied herself ready for whatever the Terran pirate might do, she really was not. She felt his mind snap awake, but it was surrounded by an opaqueness she could not broach.

Was that his infamous ability to display a quiet and deadly calm? The next few seconds would tell, she guessed. As if in answer, he instantly reached behind him with his free arm, in search of a piece of her for use in peeling her off his back. At least she hoped that was his goal. She certainly did not intend to damage him.

When he found nothing within his grasp, he rolled over on her and tried again. Again she managed, in spite of nearly non-existent breathing, to evade his clawing fingers. Then he sat up.

She couldn’t believe the ease with which his core muscles suddenly raised his long torso with her still plastered to his back. Her weight added a little over a hundred and ten pounds to his off-center load, and it felt like she had made no difference at all.

As soon as he was sitting, he again tried to reach her with his free arm, but still could not quite catch a piece of her. He decided to pull his legs up, knees headed for his chest, and in effect trapping her feet between his thighs and lower abdominal wall.

Tink tried to rearrange her feet, to relieve some of the torque on her ankles, but he then leaned a bit to one side, settled some weight on his free arm, and both her feet were free to re-hook at will. Then the leg opposite the pillar he’d made of his arm extended and bent at the knee to form a second pillar.

As soon as she saw that, she guessed what he intended. He would raise his body off the ground, balancing on the two pillars, and would try to twist free of her foot hooks. She hung on tightly, pressing against his neck with her arm, and dug in with her feet.

However, after a rapid series of inserting his free leg through the gap formed by the pillars, raising his backside into the air, and then straightening up, he had not tried to twist. Her attempts to throw him off balance enough to fall over head first had not fazed him.

He just stood up, and intently began tugging at her arms and legs, apparently trying to slide her around to the front of his torso. Quickly, but cautiously, Tink rehooked her ankles around each other, and tightened both upper and lower grips.

Again she could not get past that opaqueness at the edges of his mind. Why would he try to bring her around to his front, instead of scraping her off with part of the White Owl’s bulkhead…where her nanos could easily swarm him?

Curiosity spiking, she allowed him to move her, let him think he’d done it with his strength. BIG mistake.

With her now plastered to his chest, he dropped to his knees, sat on his heels, pushed forward against her, and soon had her hands trapped under his on the deck. He moved his hands outward, which forced her torso backwards until her spine rested on his knees.

She could feel her over-stretched thighs, abs and back shriek their protest over the sudden extension. She hoped he wouldn’t continue bending her much longer, wouldn’t injure or rupture something. She unhooked her feet and allowed them to dangle alongside his hips. Her thighs went zombie in gratitude.

Above her, close enough that she could feel his panting breaths hitting her neck like giant BBs, his baritone began to growl, “I oughta go ahead…and snap your spine…like a f***ing light spike.”

He stopped and took a few deep air-starved breaths – just long enough to allow her to cut through her pain, and really see his hard steel blue eyes focused on her bluey-greeny-gray ones. She began to rethink her hope of remaining skeletally intact.

Then he erupted again. “There’s no frigging way…you would spark away from your precious ship…right now.” His voice took on a strange hollow overtone. “But now… I feel like using you…as a female-shaped pillow…I need to…sleep this off.”

Anger flared stronger in his big eyes, as he forced himself to continue. “Gonna relax onya…fer a while…dream up…a proper payback forya…fer letting yer ungodly no-see-ums…screw around in me innards.”

By now, he’d extended his legs behind him, and his weight rested full on her chest. Tink couldn’t get enough air into her lungs to reply. It was all she do to turn her head aside, open her mouth wide, and suck in enough air to breathe.

Her vision began to darken, so she grabbed for his mind with as much energy as she could summon.

She flooded him with a mix of her overwhelming pain, along with a faint, strangely pleasant feel to the shapes of his body pressing on her, and any memory she could dredge up about the male myth for a hot female, followed by the crushing pain of rejection by a pseudo lover thought to be a more permanent companion. Wouldn’t that, she hoped on the edge of losing consciousness, render him useless at anything, especially anger?

She succeeded in replacing his anger with sleepy confusion, and she felt his grip on her hands and arms weaken somewhat. Without hesitation, she wiggled sideways.

Maybe she would have enough time to free up enough space to draw a breath begfore “sparkle”-ing him back into the barge.

At any rate, she wasn’t at all expecting what the toughened spacer bounced right back into her own mind.


~ by tinkianmotion on April 25, 2010.

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