The Yeter treated her differently after the conversation about his rescue. He would still — suddenly, frequently, and for no apparent cause — be overcome with desire and demand her to 'Come' but the beatings and rough play ceased. Between sexual bouts he would ignore her, no longer engaging in the restrictive cuddling or tormenting of his captured treasure.

    In the night, Beth would open her eyes to catch a glimpse of his eyes closing. He watched her obsessively but tried not to be caught at it.

    “Why do you hate me so?” he asked as she dozed. He shook her and asked again.

    Beth looked at him incredulously. “Why? You need to ask? Why wouldn't I?”

    He rolled and leapt to his feet. “You have no needs that go unfulfilled.”

    “But I did not choose to be here!”

    He paused in his restless pacing to glance at her.

    “This is about choice?” the Yeter said. “What choices did you have before me?”

    “All of them,” she whispered, sitting cross-legged and wary — ready to fall silent and submissive at a word or harsh look from him. His only expression was puzzlement.

    “I chose where I went and with whom. I chose what I would do and when,” Beth explained. Her captor stepped closer and she braced for the expected slap — which he didn't deliver.

    Instead, he crouched before her and gazed into her face thoughtfully. He placed his hand behind her head and tilted her face to the dimmed lights. His fingers followed the line of her jaw.

    “You were content with that?” The yellow eyes appeared sincere.

    She nodded — a bare trace of one with her chin propped on his fingers.

    He shook his head. “You had all the wrong things to chose between.” He put his palm over her mouth to stop her retort. “And did a poor job of it, besides.”

    The Yeter buried his face in the tangle of her hair. In a sudden fluid motion, he cupped her rear cheeks in his strong hands and lifted Beth from the pillows, pulling her legs wide around him. His erection split her further and for the first time in a long while she wasn't wetly ready. The pain drove a cry from her. He finished more quickly than he ever had and, with everything but his eyes, left her alone for days.

    Beth watched the other ship approach, curious but wary of changes in the routine. Her captor had continuously, but never pleasantly, surprised her with his ingenuity. Anything different would be bad. The visitor's vessel, upside-down to Beth's orientation, stopped with its portal facing the Yeter's. A pair of figures slipped through the silking and propelled toward them.

    'Stand,' he commanded in the foreign tongue, pointing to a spot behind him near the wall. She complied. “They are Jibarae.”

    From her new position she couldn't see how the visitors transversed the barrier, but the process took no longer than her space walk had so the silking was common to both ships, she assumed.

    The visitors were as alien as the Yeter, but familiarity had made her comfortable with his physique and these creatures appeared strange in comparison. Slender and gray-skinned with a soft down that covered every inch of exposed skin. Unlike the Yeter — who usually went naked but had donned a sort of cottony breechclout for the guests and had twisted another as a sarong for Beth — the newcomers wore layers of fuzzy garments in soft silver and gray tones. The host welcomed his guests with a nod, and spoke a few words, one of which she recognized as 'come'. The Jibarae replied and one produced a cylinder she knew contained the odd-tasting intoxicant the Yeter drank occasionally.

    After a few more exchanges, the hunter gestured to Beth, and said, 'Come' in the same language. One of the gray guys asked a question to which her captor listed the few words she had been taught. The Yeter motioned to the living quarters and told her to 'Go'. He and the guests chatted a bit longer and, once, Beth caught the word 'Seba'. The chuckles that followed the speech erased any doubt about the topic of conversation.

    Beth hunched down in one of the niches in the smaller room, and prepared herself. She knew now why the Yeter had invited these creatures to his ship.

    The males — she didn't know how she knew the gray ones were male, but know she did — had opened the cylinder and relaxed into the deep padded pillows to enjoy it. They passed the tube-like bottle, drinking from the spout shaped opening. The conversation rolled on in the unknown language. Occasionally the hunter would jerk his chin in her direction indicating at least one of their topics of discussion. He would smile at her each time as if he knew how badly she wished to understand what was being said.

    “Seba.” The Yeter gestured to Beth and she joined him in his pillow. Tears had formed and one trickled down her cheek to poise on her jaw. Her captor licked it away, and the others watched. They watched as she removed her dress when he commanded it. The sound of that order was indelibly written on her memory. They watched as he caressed her until she moaned and writhed. One blurted out a few words.

    “He wants you to look at him while we play,” the Yeter whispered. So Beth's leaf-green ones gazed into the steel-gray ones while the hunter explored the well-known hollows and curves of her skin with his tongue and fingers. The other growled something and the Yeter shrugged.

    'Come,' the taller and lighter colored one (older — Beth wondered) said. The Yeter gave her a little push in the right direction. She half crawled and half rolled to lie across the other's lap. The soft plush fabric of his pants felt like lying on stuffed animals. He asked a question of the host. The answer seemed to satisfy him, and the downy fingers tickled traces across her breasts.

    The younger one laughed as her nipples tightened. He tapped her forehead and pointed at his eyes, reminding her. He tipped a bit of the wine into her mouth and rubbed her lips with his finger. Beth felt a quicksilver effect, the warmth traveling to her bones in an instant. She liked the sudden lack of worry or fear and, laughing, opened her mouth for another sip. He gave her more with a smile.

    The feather light touches of these creatures made her tremble as they investigated every square inch of her skin. She strained toward the wispy brushings but the sensation became no more substantial by her effort.

    The one who held her tugged at her arms and legs until she straddled his lap. He fumbled momentarily at the closure of his remaining clothing. Beth laid her head against the furry shoulder and continued to hold eyes with the younger one, as he had commanded. The press of an erection against her wet core closed her eyes for a time. Her nipples rubbed against the fuzzy vest covering the taller one's slender chest as she posted on his equally slender hardness.

    The young one groaned audibly. Beth opened her eyes to find him kneeling beside her. His hand slid up her rump, and then up her back to her neck. His penis stood out from his body, smooth and hairless, slim but with a bulbous knob at the tip. She tightened her feminine muscles and felt the same hard protuberance on the member inside her. The one she rode groaned, and pulled her down hard.

    Beth clasped her fingers around the other's erection and moved her hand. His eyes, half closed, flew open in surprise. Twisting, she took the end in her mouth. The older one barked a laugh, and commented something aloud.

    “He says you are versatile,” the Yeter translated. His voice was closer than she expected. His hands on her waist lifted her from her perch. Beth wriggled against him and he chuckled, pushing her away. The older Jibar groused, and the hunter repositioned her on her hands and knees, and waved his guest on. Again, the willowy penis slipped slickly inside her, and her lips closed around the younger one's erection. Yes, better.

    A hand she knew well brushed her belly, and she sensed the Yeter's intense scrutiny. Beth wondered briefly if her excitement pleased him but forgot his presence as she concentrated on her task and enjoyment.

    The young one lifted her hair and ran velvet fingers along her spine as her lips and tongue engulfed him. The taller male cupped her breasts, and then, as if with desperation, scrambled for purchase and clasped her waist with his delicate fingers, pumping rapidly. She felt him stiffen and the bulb deflated like a punctured balloon, though the shaft itself remained firm. He withdrew with a gasp.

    The young one murmured a few words and thrust in hasty little strokes. Beth understood and pumped faster, sliding her tongue around the lollipop shaped penis in quicker tempo. She felt familiar hands on her hips as the Yeter set his larger cock tightly in place, pushing without pause to fill her completely as the Jibar hadn't. Beth writhed with the onslaught, and quivered. The tremors reached even to her lips.

    The young one pulsed and a miniscule dollop of fluid burst forth. Not human in any way, the thought came and went as his flavor did.

    The Yeter boosted her upright and settled into his crouch, thrusting up and deeply into her. He slid his hands onto her breasts to capture her nipples between his fingers, holding her smooth back against his chest.

    Beth felt the treacherous response building inside her as he stroked and grinded toward his own climax. She heard cries, her light ah-ah-ahs and his growls. The wave of sensation crashed through her, his spasms increasing her own. His teeth in her shoulder proclaimed his satisfaction. She collapsed between his legs as his hard subsided. Beth rested her forehead on the mottled skin and hated him all the more for sharing her so easily.

    The younger Jibar whispered a hoarse question. The hunter caressed Beth's ass and laughed as she shuddered and whimpered. He spoke a few quiet words then, taking a perverse pleasure in translating for her, said, “The Jibar asked about your stamina.” His fingers slipped in and out causing her to move with the stimulus. “Again and again, I told him.”

    Again and again. As often as he wished. Beth moaned and writhed and imagined him dead.