Page 11 of Space Daddy and a Boy Called Twink

I stripped out of the clothes from the night before, and Twink’s gaze went right to my reproductive organ, which pleased me. If only I had a better handle on the mating ritual that was expected of me, then I might have been able to impregnate him immediately.

No—this was my primal Furker impulse. I couldn’t bow to it. I had to repair my ship and get back home, despite how enticing he was.

By the time I put on a T-shirt and shorts, Powerbottom had joined us with a plate and waffle. He cut a slice of the waffle and popped it into his mouth. When he finished swallowing, he said, “Did you really think that shirt would fit him?”

I figured this had something to do with how my belly was exposed under the article of clothing.

“Yeah, well, it’s the biggest thing I have.”

“Eh, pink looks good on you, big guy.”

Big guy. Another nickname. I would have to adjust to the multitude of nicknames this species gave one another.

Twink struggled with the shorts as well, unable to get the top button closed, so he offered a belt that would disguise what might’ve been offensive to other members of his species. Then he led me to the main door, directing me on how to get to the first floor, before he said, “Oh, and I almost forgot, I need to get your number.”

He retrieved the Chelsea—it must’ve given them each identification numbers. Perhaps now he was finally onto something being wrong with me.

“I…”

“Or I could give you mine? Here, give me your phone.”

I didn’t know how I would get out of what could potentially be an attempt at verification.

“Oh, I don’t have it on me.”

“I guess it wouldn’t have fit anywhere on that thing anyway,” Powerbottom said, stepping into the doorway. He took another bite of waffle.

“Yes, that was the reason,” I said.

Twink’s expression twisted up. “Well, then I guess…”

I feared he might discover my deception if he realized I didn’t have this mysterious number, so I quickly found my best way out. “I must hurry, but I will find you again, Twink.”

I started off, though not moving so hastily as to rouse any concern that I might have been intentionally evading providing a number.

*

I returned tothe alley, but theKaylogwas missing from the spot where I’d left it. After the reboot, it must’ve found a better place to conceal itself.

I fondled my strap, and a shine in a vent alongside one of the buildings caught my eye—the night before, that had been an open space. Covering that space with a vent was a suitable disguise that would likely prevent its detection. I scanned my strap, and the vent popped open. I crawled inside and perused the damage in the main cabin before inspecting the system unit.

Wires were strewn about, popping with electricity. Fried communications board. I had to repair it if I wanted to access my ship’s communication panel and send an SOS. I confirmed my translation decoder was still damaged, meaning I would have to make the best of it before I managed to repair it.

I was supposed to be focusing on fixing my ship, but a Furker cannot fight its biological cravings. All I could think about was this beautiful creature who triggered every primal impulse in this form. I wouldn’t have thought I could encounter such a breedable member of this species so quickly, but judging by the way my cock kept stiff as I worked on repairs, it was impossible to deny.

I stuffed another waffle into my mouth, a treat delightful to this form, yet one that would have been repulsive to me in other forms because of the texture. But the way it satisfied these taste buds… It also kept my mind on the interactions we’d had—most importantly, when he assured me he desired to be impregnated. I wondered how many of my babies he could have…one, two, a few dozen… It made me uneasy to think of too many more babiesthan that, given my experience with my ex, but I wondered if he’d insist…

I tried to shake off those cravings. This wasnotmy mission here. As a member of the exploratory council, I’d been assigned to a planet in a sector of the Hector-5 E cluster galaxies. I was to collect data about the life that had been discovered there recently. This, of course, was interrupted by my ex, who clearly had other plans for me, weaponizing my biological impulses to distract me from my research. However, now that I escaped, I would need to report back to the Council and provide them with the information I’d gleaned about her planet and, evidently, inform them of this new planet I crash-landed on, to determine if further exploratory missions were required.

But guilt nagged at my conscience, seemingly much stronger in this form than in my previous ones. Chelsea was holding this beautiful, kind man captive. It wasn’t my place to interfere in local circumstances, no matter how bleak, but my instinct was to find a way to free him from her grasp, maybe because of the violation against my own freedom that I’d recently escaped.

Of course, what would that matter once I was finished repairing my ship? What if freeing him from her control meant he would be ostracized from his group or worse? It was possible that to participate in this society, he must be controlled by her, but surely, like on other planets, the robots did not have their grip on every member. Perhaps if I spent time here, I could find some resistance movement where I could keep him safe. I would be, after all, on this planet for some time, if only to find parts for my ship. Would it do any harm to at least attempt to keep him safe? If there were no alternative options, that would be one thing, but if I could, wasn’t that my obligation?

No, I had no obligation to this man, just as I had no obligation to Powerbottom. This sort of thinking was whatalways led to me getting into trouble. I would make repairs and head home.

And in the meantime, I would avoid Twink at all costs.

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