MenageLost

Menage Lost

Cynthia Sax

Part of the Operation Erotic series.

Trapped on a plant-dominated planet, Mirian hasn’t seen
another humanoid in five years. She’s
never
seen humanoids resembling Furu
and Xan, a beautiful aristocrat and his beastly warrior lover. Watching their
shared passion makes her burn with desire and ache for companionship. Wishing
to experience the ecstasy of their touch, Mirian eagerly trades the only thing
she owns—her body—for what she believes to be a breathtakingly ardent but casual
affair.

Furu and Xan don’t engage in casual affairs. They want
Mirian permanently as their breeder, and they’ll battle their unnatural female,
a male-eating plant and the entire Balazoid army to claim her.

Menage Lost

Cynthia Sax

Chapter One

An artificial thunder rolled across the mist-covered sky,
the unnatural sound signaling a change Mirian both welcomed and dreaded.

“Do you hear that?” She tilted her head back. “Ohhh…the
visitors are landing.” Mirian bounced on the balls of her bare feet, nervous
and excited and scared. “They’re
landing
, Steve.”

A small silver ship, the same ship she’d spotted skimming
along the planet’s surface yesterday, emerged from the heavy blanket of
moisture. Dewdrops dappled its metallic panels. Markings in a language she
didn’t know were boldly etched along its hull.

“I thought we’d never see another being ever again.” She
trembled with excitement, having lived as the solitary humanoid on the
vegetation-dominated plant for the past five years, that status pushing her to
the edge of insanity.

“So please don’t eat them.” Mirian glanced over her shoulder
at the plant looming above her, his fuchsia flowers angled toward the ship, his
blooms serving as eyes, his visual system as evolved as those found in
warm-blooded life forms.

“Unless they’re slavers.” She shuddered, remembering how the
slavers had dragged away the discovery team’s leader Denise, the humanoid
female’s heart-wrenching screams haunting Mirian’s dreams.

“If they’re slavers, eat them and leave the ship intact,”
she advised. Many of her supplies were sourced from a replicator and the
machine desperately needed parts, the rectangular prism frame held together
with twigs and hand-twisted twine.

“Don’t let them capture me as you let them capture Denise.
I’m your friend, remember.” Mirian tapped a broad green leaf, Steve’s veins
plump and heavy with a red liquid resembling blood, the uniquely
Viridian
plant incorporating animalistic attributes. “I feed you
Sus
, those sweet
little rodents you like. I—”

The roar of the ship’s engines drowned out Mirian’s words.
Wind whipped her hair back and rippled the blue mud she’d slathered on her
skin, the decaying vegetation’s stench masking her human scent, the cool layer
lowering her body temperature.

“Please let them be humanoid,” she murmured, clasping her
calloused hands together. Steve, the alpha plant she’d named after her first
botany professor, curled a comforting vine around her shoulder, and she leaned
into him, his leaves pressing against her bare back, supporting her weight.

The ship landed with a planet-shaking thud, boulders
rattling, and a tree limb crashing to the ground. Steve fluttered his leaves,
expressing his irritation with the disturbance.

Mirian groaned, the visitors’ careless landing dramatically
lowering their odds of survival, Steve viewing any affront to his planet as an
act of aggression. “Don’t hurt them.” She rubbed the healed puncture marks on
her right arm, the scars a constant reminder of the plant’s bad temper.

“You don’t know when or if we’ll get more visitors. This
could be our only chance.”
To re-establish contact with the outside world,
to ease the loneliness, to talk to someone, anyone, to feel human once again.
She
danced in place, the anticipation almost unbearable.
What will they look
like?

The high grasses, majestic torch trees and white clouds
reflected off the shiny silver panels, the spacecraft visually disappearing
into the landscape. A ramp silently descended, and bright lights illuminated
the void, temporarily blinding Mirian.

She glanced down at the ground and bit back a curse, her
highly intelligent plant friend not waiting to identify their guests. He slowly
snaked his vines along the flattened grass and wrapped them around the landing
gear, securing the ship to the planet.

“Subtle, Steve, really subtle.” Mirian rolled her eyes, too
exhilarated to be angry with him.

A red beam radiated from the ship and she froze in place,
holding her breath, her stomach clenching with fear. The light passed over
them, tickling her skin, and dissipated, leaving them unharmed.
Not a
weapon.
She exhaled, sagging forward, and Steve mimicked her actions, his
thin, flexible trunk folding into two.

Polished black boots clomped against the metal ramp. Mirian
lifted her gaze over a pair of leather-clad legs, the newcomer’s skintight
garment covered with a staggering amount of daggers and guns. Thick gloved
fingers gripped yet another weapon, that gun larger than the others, and the
male’s bulging biceps flexed, his toned chest topped by broad shoulders.

She gazed higher and blinked, taken aback by the raw
aggression reflected in the stranger’s fuck-with-me-and-die face, his
slicked-back black hair accentuating his white skin, his chin square and firm.

“Humanoid, definitely humanoid,” Mirian murmured. The male
glared at his surroundings with blazing red eyes, as though daring someone to
attack him, and her pussy moistened, his dominance unexpectedly arousing. “A
very sexy humanoid.”

The big brute turned his head with a snap and peered in her
direction, his dark brows lowered, shielding his eyes. “Who’s there?” His deep
voice echoed as though traveling over a long distance. “Show yourself.”

Helenos no.
Mirian remained hidden in the tall grass.
Is he a slaver?
She glanced at the weapons accessorizing his outfit.
He
doesn’t look like a slaver.
No restraints dangled from his belt.
He
could be a warrior, but why would a warrior land on Viridi?

Is the why important? He did land and I’m no longer
alone.
Mirian opened her mouth to answer him.

“Are you talking to the plants, Xan?” A voice originated
from the ship.

Another male.
She pressed her lips together.

The second male glided down the ramp, his slight, thin form
garbed in the same black leather, his skin the whitest white and his eyes a
deep crimson. Finely arched eyebrows accentuated a delicate, perfect profile.

He’s beautiful.
Mirian’s jaw dropped.
Fuck me
gorgeous.

“I’ve performed multiple scans.” The breathtakingly stunning
male waved a small handheld device. “Only
Amani
-like creatures inhabit
Viridi
.”
The tentacles on his head lifted, each skin-covered strand moving
independently.

Tentacles, pale skin, red eyes.
Mirian’s shoulders
lowered, her concerns vanishing.
He’s a Balazoid, friend to the Federation.

“I heard a female voice speaking words in the universal
language.” The beastly warrior, Xan, frowned, his wide sloping forehead
creasing with lines. “And you saw a larger heat signature.”

“Briefly.” His beautiful companion shrugged his narrow
shoulders, his pale lips turned upward. “It was likely a glitch. You know how
fragile these instruments are.” He crouched down and jabbed a long needle into
the soft ground.

They’re fellow scientists. The Federation sent them back
for me, for my research.
Mirian covered her mouth with her palms, grateful
that she’d continued the readings the Federation had been willing to risk lives
to obtain.

She stepped forward, eager to make their acquaintance, to
talk to them, to share her discoveries. Steve wrapped a vine around her waist
and pulled her backward into the safety of the forest.

“You—”

He smacked a thick vine over her lips, smothering her
protests.

Bastard plant.
Mirian struggled, biting into his sour
epidermis, kicking her feet and punching the air, her efforts futile. Steve
held her snugly, restraining her as easily as he’d held her during the slavers’
visit, his strength pulled from the planet itself, ancient and powerful and
unyielding. The more she squirmed, the tighter his vines coiled around her,
squeezing the air from her lungs.

Can’t breathe.
Blackness descended, thick and deadly,
and Mirian slumped, conceding defeat. Steve’s grip on her body eased and she
gulped the moisture-laden air, her lungs burning. Steve patted her with his
leaves as though to comfort her, the overbearing ass.

Fuck you, Steve.
Mirian extended her index finger at
the plant, an obscene hand gesture she used often. Steve hit her back harder,
punishing her for her insolence.

The
Balazoid
, oblivious of Mirian’s near-death
experience, sighed. “You won’t catch anything but if they make you feel better,
set the traps.”

Traps?
Mirian stiffened.
Scientists don’t set
traps.

And why didn’t they land closer to the settlement site?
She
gazed at their ship, their disembarkation making no sense.
The only reason
they wouldn’t land there is if…
A weariness swept over her.
They didn’t
know about the site. They didn’t know about me.

Mirian stared at the two males.
Then why are they here?

Xan slung his gun over his shoulder and cupped his
colleague’s aristocratic face in his big hands. “I’ll keep you safe, Furu.” He
skimmed his lips over Furu’s. Furu opened to him and their mouths meshed, their
arms strapped around each other, the heat of their embrace reaching Mirian,
melting her more practical questions into puddles of non-importance.

I want that.
She swallowed hard, her throat parched
and her chest tight with need.
And
I’ll do anything to get it.
Their hard bodies collided, the two males pushing their hips forward, no space
between their fit forms.

But that anything won’t be enough.
Mirian sighed,
their passion not requiring a third person, an unnecessary female.
I have
the shittiest luck.
She watched wistfully as Furu and Xan, beauty and his
gun-toting beast, grabbed each other, squeezing asses and clutching shoulders.
Two
hot male humanoids finally arrive on Viridi and they’re a couple.

“There will be time for release later.” Furu pulled away,
his cock straining against his black leather uniform. Mirian licked her dry
lips, aching for a taste, a touch, unable to recall the last time she sucked a
cock. “First, set your traps.”

“They’ll be set up by nightfall. Complete your testing while
I’m gone.” Xan slapped Furu’s ass hard, the sound ringing through the forest.
“The faster we carry out these missions, the faster we’ll earn our way home.”
He lumbered into the forest, whistling a jaunty tune.

“With you, anywhere is home,” Furu muttered. He bent down
and scooped the blue soil into a clear container. His eyes glazed over as he
carefully worked, Mirian recognizing the signs of an intellectual stupor, an
affliction she often shared.

What is Furu testing for? And what are they hoping to
catch with their traps?
She gazed at the path Xan had taken.
I need
parts for the replicator and to re-establish some sort of contact with the
outside world.
Mirian chewed on the inside of her cheek.
If I find out
what they need, we can make a trade.

“You keep a petal on the
Balazoid
,” she whispered to
Steve, his blossoms the equivalent of human eyes. “I’ll follow the big guy.”
She wiggled out of the plant’s grasp.

“Don’t eat either male.” She shook her finger at Steve.
“They’re humanoid like me so they won’t taste good.” Mirian hurried after Xan,
her steps silent and light, her bare feet skimming over the soft ground.

* * * * *

I’m being hunted.

Xan stopped short and studied the narrow path, the sensitive
skin on the back of his neck prickling, his muscles tensing.

Behind me.

He pivoted on his booted heels. Trees, taller than any he’d
seen, swayed in the hot, humid breeze, looming forest soldiers standing guard
over the smaller plants. In the leaf-laden branches, insects fluttered their
brightly colored wings and shrieked, their eerie calls echoing through the
space, warning others of his presence.

Others.

There’s a danger in being first.
Xan surveyed the
lush, green jungle, a land no
Balazoid
or
Dreck
had ever
explored. His gaze settled upon a large plant with distinctive pinkish-purple
flowers, its thick vines positioned an arm’s length closer than he remembered.

Xan narrowed his eyes. The vines remained still. Not one
leaf twisted in the wind.

Because plants don’t move, Dreck.
Xan ran his hand
over his human hair, a signal to the worlds that he wasn’t a true
Balazoid
.
Furu is right. I’m paranoid.

He shrugged off his suspicions, pulled a young sapling down
to the ground, knotted the braided vines around the trigger stick and laid the
loop over the primitive yet effective snare. Xan straightened, the circle of
defensive traps around their ship complete, his first and most important task
on these planet explorations to protect Furu, his lover, his life.

As he turned, his hand brushed against the flowering vine.
What
the fuck?
He glared at the plant and reached for his favorite dagger.

The petals of the plant moved. Xan leaned closer, searching
for the source. The flower swirled around and around, and his surroundings
blurred, his vision turning hazy. The dagger dropped from his limp fingers,
landing soundlessly on the ground. A rush of bone-melting calmness swept over
him, the tension in his shoulders dripping down his body.

In the lush bloom, Xan saw everything he’d ever wanted, the
dream he’d kept secret, never sharing it with a single soul, not even Furu.

His
Balazoid
lover sat on the porch of a small home,
reclining with his fingers linked behind his head and his feet up, the heels of
his perfectly polished boots resting on a wooden railing.

Furu watched five offspring play. Males and females, of
varying ages and sizes, rolled golden spheres on the green grass, each child
unique and individual, their pale heads covered with the coveted
verme
.