At this point, I don’t even care. I would rather pass out. This stuff tastes that bad.
He shoves a third mouthful of the paste into my mouth and then eases up his hold on me. Glorious air floods my lungs and I would be happy if I wasn’t gagging on the revolting paste.
Creepe holds his blue hand over my mouth, making sure I swallow every last bite, which I’m forced to do. He grins as he steps away, leaving me lying on the ground, coughing and hacking.
“What the fuck?” I hiss at him as the cave starts to spin. “Asshole.”
I pick up the hollowed out shell and toss it at him but I’m so dizzy that I miss by a mile. His blue face starts to warp and elongate as the paste kicks in. It seems to be some kind of a drug.
“No,” I gasp as I see something truly horrifying. My vision is fucked but this is unmistakable. He unties his loincloth and lets it fall to the ground. He steps forward with his cock raging.
“No,” I say, trying to crawl backward but my arms and legs are heavy and already sound asleep. “Get away!”
I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s happening. I only know that it’s going to be bad.
“Go to sleep, whore,” he says as he moves forward with his blurry cock in his hands.
I try to scream back but my jaw is so heavy and nothing comes out. Everything is going dark.
I put all of my energy into my right hand, looking for something to defend myself with. I can barely move it but my heavy fingers wrap around a tiny pebble.
My numb fingers close around it and I toss it forward with a sedated arm. He flies backward from the impact.
Huh?
Everything is so confusing. It was just a little pebble.
But when he steps forward again, it’s not just a pebble. There is an arrow sticking out of his shoulder with red feathers on the end.
I still don’t understand what happened as the blackness takes over and I pass out.
***
The swift and powerful Cookie Monster draws another arrow as he leaps into the cave. He keeps it pointed at the vile Creepe’s chest.
“Don’t,” Cookie Monster says as Creepe slowly reaches for the stone ax on his back.
The magical pink Sandroka, Cookie Monster’s mate Rolanda, is lying on the ground, the paste of the burenta still smeared on her lips and chin. She will sleep until the fire eats all of the logs.
“Pontuck, you traitorous gicolat,” Creepe says as he wraps his horrible hand around the arrow in his shoulder. “You shot Creepe.”
“The name is Cookie Monster. And he will sink another arrow into your flesh if you touch his mate ever again.”
Creepe curses as he snaps the arrow sticking out of his shoulder in half. “Go get Creepe the leaf of the Juju plant.”
Cookie Monster shakes his head. “No.” The honorless Creepe deserves to go to the Land of the Nevatrun for putting Cookie Monster’s mate to sleep and trying to hurt her.
“No?” he says, staring at Cookie Monster in disbelief. “You will let Creepe die over this ugly pink whore?”
“Yes,” Cookie Monster answers, pointing the arrow at the softest part of Creepe’s flesh. “You deserve to die. You tried to hurt Cookie Monster’s Rolanda.”
“Your Rolanda?” Creepe says with a frown. “You have always been as dumb as a ganoush, Pontuck. Look at her. She is an ugly pink Sandroka. Hideous. Barely worth fucking and then eating.”
Cookie Monster’s arms tighten as he is forced to listen to the vile coming out of Creepe’s mouth. He wants to let the arrow sail free and end the insults to his mate.
“She is a sex toy,” the horrible Creepe continues, “and an ugly one at that. Look at her body. She’s hard like a Drandroka. At least the whore that you call Saku has soft curves like a Sandroka. She looks like a Drandroka with all of her muscles. Creepe would not be surprised if she had a cock.”
Cookie Monster grits his teeth as he listens. He loves Rolanda’s hard muscles and sleek body. She is beautiful and makes Cookie Monster’s soum sing. She is tough and strong, a highly desirable trait for a mate.
She is as fierce as a many fanged beast but as delicate and beautiful as a porsnip flower. Her eyes shine like the suns overhead and her skin is as pale and radiant as the soft grass in the valleys. She is perfect. And she belongs to Cookie Monster.
“She is coming with Creepe, little Pontuck,” Creepe says as he steps towards the sleeping Sandroka. The powerful Cookie Monster pulls back his bow until the string is as tight as the feeling in his throat.
“You won’t have her,” Cookie Monster warns. “You’ll have this arrow instead.”
The vile Creepe grins in amusement. “She is coming to the Seeka tribe where she belongs.”
Cookie Monster hisses in a breath as Creepe reaches out for her. The flick of his powerful finger lets the arrow fly. It sinks into Creepe’s hand, poking out the other side. Creepe curses as he recoils back.
It hurts. Cookie Monster knows. His own gorgeous mate did the same to him.
He reaches back in one swift movement, grabbing another arrow out of his quiver, placing it on his bow and pointing it at the vile Creepe.