Her Alien Priest by Michele Mills
Cabal
There’s a commotion in the courtyard.
I put down my quill and wipe ink off my claws, irritated at the interruption in my restoration project. Normally this quiet monastery is my solace. The window is open, but I can’t see what’s happening from this vantage point. A military vehicle has arrived though, which is unusual.
Pilgrims stop here occasionally as they tour the ancient sites of Salo, so visitors aren’t unusual. After all, this is the busy summer season. But I’m far off the beaten path so most of them choose to bypass this stop. And I suspect my “monstrous” appearance and vow of silence aren’t helping matters.
Why has a military vehicle arrived?
I reach down and rub at my thigh, trying to loosen tight muscles. I’m a war veteran and lucky to have this organic prosthetic leg, but it’s never been as good as the real thing. Five years later it still troubles me. I stand and slowly make my way around the desk and frown at my bare ankles, which are always exposed when I walk. This clothing isn’t made for Hyrrokin, so it’s difficult to find robes that are long enough for my tall form. I had to specifically cut out a flap in the back to accommodate my barbed tail. My hood rarely stays in place due to the horns on my head.
“Stop it!”
“Grab her!”
“Hey, leave me alone!” a female voice shouts in reply.
My pulse quickens. What is going on out there? I immediately grab my staff and march downstairs.
A fist bangs on the first-floor entrance to the main sanctuary. Then the loud boom of the metal knocker joins the percussion. I clench my jaw. Who are these beings? This isn’t the behavior of humble pilgrims. The front door bursts open as I arrive. Three heavily armed Gravian guards rush inside, dragging a screaming nun in their wake.
I pause and stare at this atrocity, trying to understand how this is happening. A luscious feminine scent hits my lungs, and my body instantly reacts, causing my cock to thicken under my robe. A growl rumbles in my chest as I witness this female’s distress. My grip tightens on my staff.
She is dragged and dumped onto the stone steps of the main altar. A red suitcase is tossed down beside her. I have no idea what species she is, but I can smell her compatible mating pheromones. Possessive needs I’ve never known until this very moment whip through my body.
I glance back angrily at the dusty, sweaty guards. Fire ignites in my chest. I’ve kept it banked for four long years, but now it churns, ready to flash flame.
“This is the female nun we were ordered to bring,” an older-looking male huffs, wiping sweat off his brow, “the one you were expecting. She has proven difficult to transport.”
I have no idea what they are talking about. I wasn’t expecting a nun.
And then they all turn to fully gaze at me. And they each give quick intakes of breath and eye the exit. “Who are you?” the youngest guard squeaks. His hand visibly shakes at the hilt of his blaster.
Due to my vow of silence, I cannot speak or even communicate via written form. I am only able to respond with an occasional hand gesture, flash of flame or grunt of acknowledgement. I choose to do none of these and instead stare back and allow smoke to waft from my nostrils.
The second guard answers for me, “Th…this monster is the High Priest of Westmore Monastery. His name is Cabal Firestone. I’ve heard about him. He looks like that because he’s a Hyrrokin. He’s taken vows of silence…and celibacy.”
Monster? Heh.
It never ceases to amaze me how I’m viewed by these Gravians, or by most other beings outside of Tarvos. They are literally terrified of me. Hyrrokin facial features are the stuff of nightmares to them. It’s always this way. My red skin, gleaming horns and white fangs are frightening? My black barbed tail doesn’t help matters. On Tarvos, females eye my horns and fangs with unabashed lust and here…here they scream and run and I’m a “monster.” I’ve lived on this planet for over four years now and beings still haven’t gotten used to my appearance. All of the visitors to this monastery have their initial meltdown when they meet me, and then I smile and make them comfortable. Pilgrims are prewarned that I’m Hyrrokin. The “Monster of Mount Westmore” they call me.
“Celibacy?” the guards mutter in unison. They’ve momentarily forgotten their fear and are trying to process vows that require no sex.
No priest or nun has attempted these two vows concurrently since the time of the great expansion. None believe I can refrain from speaking or taking a Bound or at the very least pleasure mating, but I haven’t done either of those things in four years. My vows are sacrosanct. I took these vows on the sacred altar of Minos. If I can keep these ancient vows and remain silent and not pleasure mate for five years, thereby proving my dedication to Westmore, the Cardinal promised to restore this forgotten, crumbling monastery on the side of a mountain that no one else cares for. The visiting pilgrims respect my dedication and are rooting for me. The other High Priests and Nuns on the route cheer me on. I am one year away from reaching my goal.
Sanctuary candles flicker in the breeze from the open door. I immediately recognize that this female isn’t truly a nun yet, but a trainee. She is lacking the appropriate symbols of our order tattooed on her hands. I still can’t clearly see her shrouded face, but she sees me for the first time and screams in horror, backing herself up the steps of the altar.
I sigh with resignation.
The gruff, older guard pauses and adds, “This being is a human female. Her name is Aliyah Williams.”
I crook an eye ridge. A human? Humans are rare in the four sectors. I take a step forward to offer my help and she screams again and cries harder.
“Shut up, female,” the second guard thunders, “we are tired of your fake cries for help.”
Rage boils in my chest and my nostrils flare. How dare they speak to her this way? These males are lucky I can’t scent their pheromones or seed directly on this female, letting me know they did not sexually molest her during transport. She doesn’t appear to have bruises or cuts. This is why they are still alive. I might appear peaceful, but my former career as a decorated soldier means I remain a warrior priest at bay. A veteran ready to reenter battle at a moment’s notice.
The nun arrived unhappy, and I suspect the guards are the root cause.
I glare at them and they look uncomfortable under my scrutiny, as they should. I crack open my jaw and blast an intense flame that singes the top of their heads.
The three of them stumble backward, shouting with pain and fear. “Stop, what are you…”
I step forward and send out a second blast, larger than the first.
They scream. “You can’t…”
Oh, I can. I widen my stance and narrow my eyes. Smoke billows from my nostrils. I lift my chin and point a claw toward the open door.
“He is a monster!” they cry. And then the three guards race out of the sanctuary in a clatter of boots and weapons, shutting the heavy door behind them with a resounding thud.
And I’m left alone with her.
I hear the distant rumble of their military vehicle as it exits the courtyard. I turn and see she’s already pushed herself up to a sitting position.
“Thank you,” the human pants. “I think those guards brought me to the wrong place. I tried to tell them I was supposed to go to a nunnery, but they wouldn’t listen. They think I’m someone else. My real name is Lorelei Hastings, from New Earth. And I’m not a nun, yet. I suppose I’m a trainee? I was given a universal translation chip the moment I arrived on Salo. Then those guards carted me off. They…they took my suitcase…” she says, clearly agitated. “Oh, it’s back now. Thank gods.”
Heh. The guards are already gone, and there is no way to contact anyone to pick her up. Someone will eventually discover their error and retrieve this female and take her to her correct placement. Meanwhile, I will make her comfortable. I’m surprisingly unperturbed at the thought of being burdened with this stranger.
She stands at the base of the altar. Her head cocks to the side. “I’m sorry about how I was screaming earlier when I first saw you, I’m totally over that now. I wasn’t expecting to meet a male of your species. It’s just that when I stepped on the transporter on New Earth, I thought I was being sent to a nunnery on Salo. But instead, those guards made a mistake and now I’m in a monastery with you. This is not at all what I expected.”
My lips twitch. It is not what I expected either.
“I…I heard them say your name is Cabal Firestone and you’re the High Priest here and you’ve taken vows of silence and celibacy?”
I nod.
“Oh wow,” she mutters.
I can literally feel my long-dormant shaft continuing to thicken under my robes. I want to pleasure mate this female. I want to toss her on the steps and throw up her robe and fuck her hard on the altar.
What is wrong with me?
She pauses to take in her surroundings. “You live here alone?”
I nod in agreement. I’m not popular to work with. And most of the other beings in my order accept assignments in the flashier, more comfortable monasteries on the main pilgrimage route. This place is basically a ruin.
“Should I call you High Priest Firestone?”
I shake my head.
Her brow furrows. “You…you want me to call you by your first name? Cabal?”
I smile, loving the sound of my name on her lips. I gesture for her to follow me as I head upstairs.
She follows behind, dragging along her wheeled suitcase. “It’s very quiet here,” she whispers.
We walk down a long hallway and I open a door for her.
She steps inside her cell and takes in the bare stone walls, the narrow bed and the chamber pot. She claps her hands with excitement. “This is my bedroom? I get a room to myself?” She turns toward me with an apparent burst of energy and throws back the shroud from her head and smiles at me.
I suck in a sharp breath. This is the most beautiful female I have ever seen. Her human hair is so light it is almost white, and her eyes are a bright blue. She is very colorless and seems frail in comparison to my species. There are no scales, horns or claws. I cannot even clearly make out her form underneath the robe, but her sex appeal is undeniable. I instantly want to snarl and flame at other males to stay away. Her beauty is for me, and me alone.
And then her stomach rumbles loudly with hunger. She places a hand over her robe, her face turning a charming shade of pink. “Oh sorry, they were only feeding me tiny snack-sized protein bars that tasted like burnt dirt.”
I place her suitcase on her bed and grab her hand. I pull her with me out of her room and back downstairs to partake of the midday meal. I hold her hand as we walk together, hiding it between our two voluminous robes. She enters the kitchen with me and looks out the back window at the garden and squeals with joy. She breaks free from my grasp and skips to the door and looks out at my careful rows of vegetables.
“Oh, it’s so beautiful.” Then she whirls around and tags me with sparkling eyes. “You don’t have a food dispenser, do you? You grow and eat whole, fresh food?”
My chest swells with pride. It’s true. I do.
“This is how we eat back home too. Fresh, organic food is always better than fake dispenser food.”
I nod with agreement. Pilgrims also bring gifts in repayment for their stay and to help feed them during their visits—wheels of cheese, flagons of wine, fresh meat to cook for dinners, and various treats. But mainly I eat what I grow—food I coaxed out of the ground with my own two claws.
We fill our bowls with vegetable soup that is simmering in a pot in the fireplace. I walk over to the adjoining refectory and sit at the long table. She tries to take a seat across from me, but I frown and pull her down beside me. Our bodies are pressed side by side on the bench. I cannot fuck her, nor can I speak to her, but I’m determined to remain as close as I can. Her scent fills my lungs and gives me peace.
Obviously, I should remain at a distance. But I am simply unable to refrain from touching her. I will pray later for forgiveness.
She moans with delight at the first bite of soup then eagerly finishes her bowl. She is so very small, but I can see the outline of her curves and they are generous, a perfect fit in my claws. I don’t want her to grow smaller. I will make sure I barter for more bread and sweets and just more food in general for my female. She needs to grow strong.
I eat alongside her and then stand and refill her food and give her more. And this time I also carve her a thick slice of aged cheese.
“Thank you, this is amazing. Cabal, you are such a good cook. I am going to have to learn this recipe.” Finally, she pushes her third empty bowl away and leans back, full with the food I gave her. She takes a sip of water and cuts me a glance, “I’m sure you want to know how I ended up here. I’d want to know if I were you.”
I nod. It is unusual for a such a rare species to be sent to a nunnery. I suspect there was an error, because her essential goodness radiates off her in waves.
Her face flames. “It’s not a good story. The reason why I’m here is that my family banished me to a nunnery on Salo to serve penance for a crime they believe I committed.”
