Grumpy Alien King by Celeste King
Heather
Her hand-chop was aimed for my neck. Shifting my weight, I blocked it perfectly, my forearm against her wrist. Resetting my feet, I used her own momentum to toss her over onto her back. I started to twist her arm behind her back.
Which is when a tentacle unraveled from her wrist and slapped me in the face.
It wasn’t always fair, fighting with an alien.
I stepped back and she rose to her feet. Then, each of us yelling, we attacked. Feet and fists (and her two tentacles) were flying. I was a whirlwind of block, block, attack, kick, deflect, punch. We traded blows. Then, I’d had enough pussying around. The next time those tentacles came at me, I grabbed hold of them.
Using them like ropes, I yanked my opponent toward me and gave her a headbutt that laid her out flat. I yelled as I raised my leg, ready to swing it down at her neck.
“And hold,” said the gruff voice of our fight instructor, Madame Klide.
“Damn you, Heather,” said Jiggian, my alien opponent.
“I’m sure you’ll get me next time,” I said unconvincingly as I winked at her, then helped her to her feet.
“Enough chit-chat,” Klide said as she stepped between us. Then she addressed the rest of the ladies who were standing on the outskirts of the mats. She solicited their comments and criticisms of the sparring match they’d just witnessed.
As Klide probed them with questions, I noticed how hard she worked to try and find something negative to say about my technique. I didn’t really mind. Better that she was hard on me than for her to have let me off easy. Besides, that she was working so hard to find something negative to say was it’s own kind of compliment.
I smiled to myself. The warm feeling I had was actually a mix of emotions. Pride at my fighting abilities, of course. But also a bit of amazement.
Six months ago, I never would have imagined I’d be enjoying my time at Teshie’s Universal Brides. Yet here I was, training to be worthy of their catch phrase, “Out of this world brides – no matter your world”. And I found that I actually liked it.
Self-defense training with Madame Klide was my favorite, certainly. But even all the finishing school elements had their own charms.
I certainly hadn’t entered the Agency with the intent of enjoying myself. I’d done it for the money that it would promise when I was finally selected. Money that my aging parents desperately needed. Having fun was a nice little plus.
“Miss Sinclair? Miss Sinclair? Heather!”
Madame Klide was calling my name and I quickly stopped daydreaming and straightened up.
“Yes, Madame.”
“Mind wandering?”
“Yes, Madame. Sorry, Madame.”
“Well. I guess we haven’t perfected you, yet.”
Yet there was a gleam in Klide’s eyes that seemed to imply I was more than living up to her standards.
Before I could process the look any further, Klide told us to hit the showers. The dozen or so of us ladies, females from planets all over the galaxy, including one other human like me, stripped out of our fighting gear and into the spraying water.
Even after six months, I couldn’t help but marvel at the different naked bodies around me. Different shades of skin. Breasts of all different sizes. And numbers. Jiggian herself was from the planet Kinemede and swore she had two vaginas. She coyly refused to tell me where the second one was, though.
Seeing all these gorgeous women in the buff sometimes made my stomach knot with doubt. It was one thing for instructors like Madame Klide to be proud of me. But would a man ever select me from the catalog when there was such a wealth of good-looking and sophisticated ladies to choose from? What did a human woman, even one in as good shape and as shapely as I was, have to offer to the galaxy’s most exotic and wealthy bachelors?
Still. All I could do was study, and train, and hope for the call to come.
“Did you do the reading for decorum class?” Jiggian asked me a few minutes later, as we toweled off. “Can you fill me in before Madame Rigar quizzes us?”
“You want me to give you a quick run-down on proper behavior at a Mandaspore dinner party? There’s sixty-seven courses, each with its own silverware and proper slurping sounds.”
“Ugh,” Jiggian groaned, handing me my latest defeat at spying out her other slot as she slipped on her underwear. “And you probably memorized each slurp, didn’t you? You’re such a nerf.”
“Nerd,” I corrected her, reaching for my own underwear. She was still trying to learn human slang. “And I am not,” I added. “I want to know every custom because you never know what sort of alien will choose you.”
“I pray I’m not chosen by a Mandaspore. I think I’d have to kill myself.”
I shook my head, laughing at Jiggian’s cynicism. She’d fit right in with my old gang on Earth, I thought.
“Miss Sinclair!” a stern voice suddenly called out.
I froze, along with all the other women in the locker room in their various states of undress. Headmistress Yves Teshie had entered. Just behind her stood Madame Klide, her eyes wet and glowing.
Yves strode solemnly toward me. I bowed as was proper.
“Miss Sinclair,” she said, her voice softening. “Dress quickly and then get your things together.”
I bowed my head in assent and snuck a quick peek at Jiggian. Her mouth was slightly open in an anticipation that mirrored my own inner sense.
The Headmistress? Calling on me personally? There was usually only one reason for that.
“Once you are packed, you will report to my and Master Teshie’s office.”
“Yes, Headmistress.” I looked up at her, uncertain.
“Smile, girl,” Yves said, and her own lips curled upward slightly. “You’ve been selected.”
The locker room exploded in whoops and cheers. Suddenly, I was swarmed with half-dressed woman hugging me and offering me congratulations until Madame Klide broke it up in her gruff manner. But even she gave me a hug before slapping my ass and hurrying me off to get my things.
I hurried down the halls with my heart in my throat. I was feeling a new mix of emotions, now.
This is what you wanted, I reminded myself.
Isn’t it?
