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"Planet of the Vamps "Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, yaoi, bondage, little smidgens of
het Summary: Stranded on a strange planet, Duo Maxwell studies Biology 101 Pairings: Read and see! Written for GW Safehouse's Vampire month
"Planet of the Vamps " Part One.
"The Dirtsider's Guide to the Planets" wanted to make that fact perfectly clear to its readers. To date, Duo Maxwell wasn't all that impressed with the guide book. But then, he was prejudiced. Because, in the chapter dealing with the planet Traeskavelon, the authors had belittled the purported existence of purple-eyed demon folk who could read people's minds. Duo Maxwell hailed from the planet Traeskavelon. He had glowing purple eyes. And he could read people's minds. So Maxwell was skeptical about the accuracy of other entries in this book. Still, he figured a little information was better than none at all. Even if it proved somewhat inaccurate. Three weeks before, he had crash-landed his explorer-class shuttlecraft into the softly glittering silver dust of the planet Lamia. While he reposed, unconscious, in the Visitors' Center infirmary, his two crew members had absconded with every portable valuable they could remove from the wrecked shuttle, hocked the items for pocket change, and then hitched a ride off-planet aboard an ore freighter. Duo suspected the gutless guys had been scared shitless of vampires. They had to have been desperate to have taken off on that particular ride. He would have cursed them soundly for their cruel abandonment of him. Except that he knew they were sweating their asses off now, laboring hard on a miners' vessel. Their desertion was its own punishment, he concluded with a wry chuckle. Maxwell was not the sort of person to bemoan his fate. He had survived a gods-awful crash, and recovered fully. He now found himself on a fascinating new planet that was just waiting for his exploration. He could get a dirtside job that paid well, buy his instruments back out of hock, repair his ship, and take off again into the brilliant starry universe. That was his plan. Maxwell wondered why all the tourists clung so tenaciously to the Visitors' Center. Lived here, ate here, shopped here, stayed here. If they had traveled vast interstellar distances to arrive at Lamia, why not go out and sample the local culture? They were all terrified of vampires. That's why. Duo Maxwell shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. His physician was a native of the planet. And she didn't seem particularly sinister to him. Quite the contrary. Sally Po was young and pretty. She had melting, soulful dark eyes and long honey colored hair. Her medical demeanor was knowledgeable, no nonsense, brisk but kind. She had tended her patient painstakingly back to his current state of bounding good health. She did stand a full foot taller than Maxwell. And she possessed a pair of muscular shoulders that seemed capable of breaking brick walls. When she smiled at her patient, as she occasionally would if he cracked a particularly absurd joke, her canine teeth did seem remarkably long. And sharp. Yes. But Duo Maxwell had the advantage of mind-reading. He had eavesdropped on the doctor's thoughts. And therefore he knew that Sally Po considered him likable and cute. Even adorable. Charming and cuddly. These did not seem to be very wicked or dangerous reflections on her part. Never once had Duo caught her in the act of planning a bite to his neck, nor craving a sip of his blood. With respect to the planet Lamia, "The Dirtsider's Guide to the Planets" quoted the august Professor Botlemyier's theory of galactic diversity. Now that mankind had spread throughout the galaxy, the population of humans was statistically so enormous, that all sorts of evolutionary possibilities would appear on some planet or another. The professor went so far as to state, any adaptation that had ever been observed in any species on Earth, might easily appear in Homo sapiens, somehow, somewhere. The humans of Lamia were considered a classic case. Just like certain bats of South America, the Lamians possessed an anticoagulant molecule expressed in their saliva, which prevented blood from clotting. However, anthropologists had discerned that this item was used by the natives, not so that they could derive nourishment from eating blood meals, but rather, as part of their elaborate mating rituals. "The Dirtsider's Guide to the Planets" did not elaborate on said mating rituals, however, much to Maxwell's disappointment. "What are your plans?" Dr Po's voice directly behind him made Duo start and jump in surprise. He closed his guide book abruptly and turned to look at the Lamian who had crept up on him so silently. "I need to find a good paying job," Maxwell confessed. "All the ones posted on the Visitors' Center bulletin board offer such poor wages. If I'm ever gonna repair my shuttle, I'm gonna need some serious cash." Towering above her patient, Dr Po smiled widely, flashing a brilliant set of perfectly white teeth. "What sort of work are you wanting?" "If the pay is good, I'll do anything that's useful and, erm, mostly honest," Maxwell grinned back up at the pretty lady. "My cousin runs a private social club. She is wanting to hire someone as a sort of combination manager and bouncer. The pay is very good, much better than anything you could find here at the Center." "A bouncer, huh?" Maxwell said dubiously. "Well, I'm not very large and intimidating, obviously, but I'm pretty good in a fight." Sally Po laughed sweetly. "Oh, you don't need to be large. Just male," she explained. "And an off-worlder." "Well, then I guess I qualify." "If you're interested, I'll warn my cousin you're coming over for an interview today." Hmm. Things were looking up for Duo Maxwell. Good fortune appeared to smile down upon him at last. "Great. That's terrific. I surely appreciate it, Dr Po." She described to Maxwell in detail the location of her cousin's club, gave him directions, and drew him a map. "You can walk there from here, its not very far. And its perfectly safe, as long as you are traveling in the daylight." There came a fairly long, silent pause, in which the lady studied the young man. "There's just one more thing," Po declared somberly. "Yes?" Duo tried reading the doctor's mind. She was wondering whether or not he would agree with her. "Before you go, I need to kiss you." "Kiss me?" "Yes, kiss you." Well, she was very pretty. It seemed a bit peculiar, but why not? Maxwell shrugged, blushed, and grinned. "Okay." She pounced on him in an instant, holding him pinned in her firm muscular grasp, with his feet dangling off the floor. And it proved to be one hell of a kiss. Steamy. Mouth on mouth, tongue on tongue, with plenty of saliva into the bargain. Sally finally set him down and drew away, leaving Duo gasping and panting, wide eyed with amazement. And for an instant, as Maxwell stared, the lady's dark eyes seemed tinted with red. "Give Lucrezia my love," Sally Po told him,
before calmly returning to her office. "Yep. Sure am," Duo agreed cheerfully. The guard shook his head. "It's your neck, buddy." "Yep. Sure is." And with that, Maxwell walked out onto the surface of planet Lamia. The strange glittering dust, so typical of the place, floated ghostly about him as he strode forth. It haunted every breeze and collected upon every surface, giving the whole town a somewhat surreal, out of focus appearance. Almost like standing inside a snow globe, Duo thought. The buildings were tall, dark and rife with architectural intricacies, story upon story, aspiring toward the stars, boasting oddly angled roofs, stark dormers with small elaborate corners, full of carven details. The scenery seemed oddly brooding, almost gothic to Maxwell's perception. There were plenty of pedestrians, walking about their daily business. But as Maxwell continued along the pavement, every now and then consulting the doctor's street directions, he began to perceive a certain fact. They were all female. There wasn't a single male amongst them, as far in every direction as he could see. Not another guy on the street, but just Duo Maxwell. Alone. For some reason, the realization made him blush. And he gradually became aware that he was the object of their curiosity. Without exception, he received covert glances from each woman he passed. Inexplicably, his heart began to pound. At length, he determined to mind-read a bit. He focused on the very next female that strolled by him. She was thinking, "Gods, a male! On the street, alone, in broad daylight. Oh, he's just an off-worlder. And already claimed. Too bad. Nice hair. Sweet ass. Delicious." None of which seemed particularly alarming. Maxwell hurried his pace a notch. Rather breathless, he arrived at the correct address. He stared up at the overshadowing edifice. Double checked the number. He sucked a deep inhalation and held it a moment. Then he placed his hand upon the door knob and twisted. As it opened, the door cried painfully upon its hinges. Maxwell stepped over the threshold. The interior was inky black. So dark that, entering the room from the prior outside daylight, Duo felt utterly blind. The first thing his senses offered him was a bizarre hissing chorus, as if he'd suddenly dropped into a pit full of angry vipers. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he perceived a female, barring his way. She was impressively tall, with gleaming black hair swept up high off her forehead, shading glittering red eyes. Brilliant red lips grimaced back to reveal fangs. Long sculpted nails, flared in preparation to scratch out the intruder's eyes. Shoulders hunched, tiger-like in rage. Oh yes. And she was hissing. As were a dozen other females, crouching in the dark corners, ready to pounce upon and demolish their prey. "Erm," Maxwell began in a hoarse mutter. "Sally Po said I should come here. She said she'd call. Its about a job?" The black haired woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Then she stalked forward, sniffing the air. Her long, red tongue flicked out, sweeping the edges of her razored teeth, as if savoring a mysterious flavor. "Cousin Po," she hissed, nodding her head. Suddenly she stuck out her hand. Maxwell extended his own, somewhat unsteadily. "You must be Duo Maxwell," she said in a perfectly ordinary voice. And at that sound, the lights came on in the room, to reveal numerous ladies, seated at cafe tables, eating their luncheon and conversing together amiably. "That's right," Duo agreed breathlessly. He noticed her eyes had changed to blue. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." She grasped his hand, engulfed it in a viselike grip, and shook it genially. "I understand you were injured in a shuttle crash. How are you feeling now?" "One hundred percent," he grinned. "Dr Po is an excellent physician." "She is that. We are very fortunate to have her in our clan. And you are very fortunate she holds no animosity against off-worlders." "Is there a lot of prejudice on Lamia against foreigners?" "Oh, I wouldn't call it 'a lot'. Most citizens are willing to judge individual newcomers on their own merits. But where prejudice exists, it can be particularly vicious. You do need to be careful." "Thanks. I will." "I'm Sally Po's cousin, Lucrezia. But you can call me 'Noin'. Everyone in the clan calls me that. You're interested in a job here at Club Aconite?" "From what Sally said, yeah, I'm interested." They went ahead to discuss the details of his employment. The wages, which were, as promised, excellent. The time off, which Duo needed, in order to repair his ship. What duties Noin expected Duo to perform. He was to help her in service and management. And somewhat in guarding the front door against intruders. "Sally said that the job required a male and an off-worlder. Why not a native Lamian?" Maxwell wondered aloud. "Impossible," a knife edged voice informed him. Duo started in alarm, turning to confront the individual who had successfully gotten the drop on him. She was statuesque and military in her bearing. Even at rest, her beautiful eyes shone a hint of vermilion. "This is my cousin Une," Noin informed him, suppressing a slight snicker at his evident startlement. "Clan enforcer par excellence." "Are you going to hire him?" the Amazonian female demanded. "Yes," Noin grinned, showing plenty of teeth. "And he agrees?" "Uh, sure. I'll take the job," Maxwell nodded. Une twirled a jeweled dagger nimbly in one hand. "Then have him mark the entry and be done with it. I grow weary of perpetually guarding the threshold. Noin blushed, a lovely carnation shade, tinting her creamy complexion. "I was going to give him some time to settle in here, first." "Nonsense," Une hissed. "He's accepted the position. He needs to assume his responsibilities. Now." And with that, she sheathed her weapon in one fluid motion, grabbed Maxwell, her sharp nails indenting the flesh over his jugular veins, and hauled him out the front door. "Mark the entry," Une commanded icily. "What?" "Urinate." "Huh?" Duo stated intelligently. "You want me to get arrested for indecent exposure or something?" His face flushed, hot scarlet. "I am the local clan enforcer. If anyone were going to arrest you, it would be myself," the lady informed him flatly. "Oh. Uh. Yeah." Maxwell turned nervously to eye the busy thoroughfare. "So you expect me to just whip it out. In public. And piss on your door step, huh?" "That's what I said." "All righty then." Duo fumbled at the fly of his trousers. "Do you require assistance?" There was unmistakable amusement at Maxwell's expense, expressed upon the woman-warrior's sardonic features. "You can forget that!" Maxwell snarled at her. He took a deep breath and pulled out his cock. "Make certain that you hit the threshold and both of the upright supports." "You want me to try for the lintel as well?" he demanded acidly. "Unfortunately, you are far too short for that," she retorted wickedly. Maxwell growled, and proceeded to decorate said structures with a copious stream. "You gonna grade my performance?" he demanded, scowling defiantly at her as he refastened his trousers. She laughed. It was a surprisingly pleasant, musical sound. "Adequate," she declared, raising one eyebrow in a droll expression. "Be sure to do this once a day, at the least. More often, if you feel so inclined." "Yeah, sure, whatever," Duo shrugged as they reentered the establishment. Where he discovered everyone looking at him, rather expectantly. He stopped, his features radiating heat under the intense scrutiny. Was it his imagination, or were they purring at him? And eying him, like he was dessert, with whipped cream and fudge sauce on top? Duo Maxwell shrugged. He needed this job. Local customs be damned. They could fire him if they wanted to, but he surely wasn't about to quit. Whatever it took to succeed, he resolved. The rest of the workday was unexpectedly peaceful and productive. Noin went over the accounts with him. Showed him the storage areas and supply lists. Explained her inventory system thoroughly. She seemed to him quite as pleasant as Sally Po. Then Une took over his instruction. "Security measures," she declared bluntly. Maxwell silently nodded. They went over the entire building from rafters to basements. It was fortified as if they expected an invasion of hostile hoards at any moment. He blinked at the precautions, wondering why they were necessary. Une seemed ready to explain the local culture. Duo certainly was eager to listen. "The dark belongs to the males," she divulged. "No respectable Lamian female goes out after sunset. Understand?" "Yes." "The men travel in pairs. Clan mates, matched for life. They defend each other against attack. Patrol their turf. Conduct their business. Pursue their pleasures, as they desire. Since you are unpaired, the night is unsafe. Therefore, you will never, ever go outside after nightfall. Is this perfectly clear to you?" "Yeah, sure." "You will leave your work here in plenty of time safely to return to the Visitor's Center, which is considered by all Lamians to be neutral territory. That, and the spaceport." "If daylight belongs to the ladies, why aren't they just totally offended and repulsed when I go strolling by?" Maxwell asked her with a mischievous twinkle in his purple eyes. "You look and smell like a foreigner," Une laughed. "But make no mistake. At night, walking alone, you are at extreme risk of death and dismemberment by the males. During the day, you couldn't walk a block without getting kidnapped by the females." "Huh? Kidnapped?" Maxwell asked in shocked tones. "But I walked all the way here this morning. Nobody laid so much as a finger on me." "Sally Po claimed you. Marked you. Our clan affiliation was freshly upon your person. The other females scented the claim and refrained from approaching you. Because our clan is very powerful. Absconding with your person would have been a dangerous enterprise. Very dangerous." "She kissed me," Maxwell declared, suddenly recognizing the explanation for that morning's event. "Did she indeed?" Une laughed out loud. "The minx. I suppose she thought that drooling upon your person might seem inordinately strange to you." "I suppose so," Duo chuckled in agreement. "Speaking of which, stand still," Une commanded. And grasping Maxwell firmly, she proceeded to lick him. Drawing one of his earlobes into her mouth, sucking upon it, then progressing in a long damp line down his throat, under his chin, and particularly dwelling upon his carotid pulses. Maxwell's head spun. As he stared into the female's hypnotic eyes, their depths swirled in vermilion vortex. "Never venture outdoors without being freshly marked. By Noin, Sally or myself. No one else may approach you. If anyone attempts such an outrage, you are to inform me at once." Maxwell nodded. At the moment, he didn't think speaking was such a good idea. Or even possible. "Just one more item, before you go home for the night." Une grabbed his shoulder and drew him toward a fireplace mantel. She pointed toward an elegantly framed, painted portrait. The subjects were two young males, clad in formal military uniforms, glittering with decorations. The one seated, the other standing, clasping his partner's shoulder possessively. By their proportions, Duo figured they were towering individuals. Extraordinarily handsome. One, a strawberry blonde, the other with long platinum tresses. Both scowling fiercely at the viewer. "This one is my mate, Treize. The other, Zechs, belongs to Noin. They are the only males ever allowed into this building. Any other male who attempts to enter, you may feel free to attack him and kill him at once." Maxwell shuddered at the instruction, which was offered by Une in a perfectly serious tone of voice. "If either of these males enters the establishment, you are to call Noin or myself immediately. Under no circumstances attempt to confront them or address them. Is this perfectly clear to you?" "Perfectly," he agreed enthusiastically. Such was Duo Maxwell's introduction to the native culture of planet Lamia. At least "The Dirtsider's Guide to the Planets" had gotten one useful fact correctly. The natives weren't really vampires. ~ * ~ |
