There was a soothing sort of rhythm to the way he dressed for a hunt, and it calmed her just to watch him. The black mesh was slipped over his body first, and then he began to lace the armor to his shins. She had seen the precise way in which he did everything up a million times, yet he never asked her to help. She did not walk over to him to win his attention, but only because she knew she would not see him for weeks to come.

He watched as she scooped up one of the armor pieces for his forearm and laced it in place exactly as he always did. When he did not shoo her away, she did the same for the other arm, and then the ones for his shoulders as well. She even knew how his shoulder cannon was attached, how his wrist blades went on, and how he carried his combi-stick that extended out like a spear. Kendra grabbed his mask, her fingers sliding over the cold metal and engraved markings, and she held it up to him.

To her surprise, his foot slid over the stool that she frequently used to reach and he had her put his mask in place. She didn't linger, fearing he would call her slow, and quickly put the stool away. She watched him leave, admiring the savage and primal look about him.

She didn't like seeing him go, but with him gone for so long, it was usually an opportunity for her to get her head strait. No commands, no schedule, no hiding in the bathroom when females came over, no temptation from his musky smell or his stern voice, no temptation from watching him bathe or anything else...However, her body was just as demanding with him gone-and that left her alone with her own devices.

The ache inside her as she slowly slid off the edge of the bed, with the soft furs against her bare legs reminded her just how desperate she was.

She went to the kitchen, not sure what she was looking for, but knowing the purpose. She needed something useable-a carrot, a pickle, a banana...She was confronted with assortments of alien vegetables with rough spikes on the outside like a pineapple, everything the wrong size, shape, or texture. The utensils were useless as well, so she ventured out into the hallways of the house.

There was no way she would get away with taking anything off the walls, and most were set up way above her head. Plus, their blades were nothing to mess with as they were impossibly sharp-one wrong slip and she'd likely lose a toe or something. As tempting as some of the smaller knife handles looked, she knew it was a bad idea.

Kendra had seen plenty of weird gadgets at the market that might work, however, she was not permitted to leave the house, and for good reason. She was a valuable possession. The clan members respected the fact that she was not their property, and also wouldn't dare touch her lest her master find out. But just like the stranger in the market that had tried to get her to kneel to him, some yautja needed to learn that lesson, and her master would not be there to teach it. Though, she wasn't always as alone as she thought. On occasion, a yautja would bring her water, check up on her, or her eyes would catch a fleeting glimpse of bending light from a cloaking device. Guards were scattered about the house, but as far as she knew, only around the doorways and important rooms.

She couldn't bare the idea of being caught stealing something from the walls or even trying to sneak outside past invisible guards, so she needed something else to do. Research, maybe, would make things go smoother.

There was a library of sorts, in the house, and she made her way through the maze of hallways and doors to it. She didn't visit it often, as she wasn't a very strong reader and most of the texts were boring and complicated. She grabbed one of the tablets out from the appropriate section, sat down, and began to scroll through its electronic database for anything relevant to her. Anything to do with touchy subjects such as ooman and yautja pairings was censored from her unless she knew the password. She did find an interesting fact about scarings that answered her question about how to tell if they were mated or single however.

It seemed that different symbols marked in different places each had their own meanings. A mark on the forehead was something of honor, and the symbol of a kill or honorable action could be placed there. A mark on the sternum was for something of love or family, and a symbol for possession (for mated pairs) or clan membership would be placed there. A mark on the palm was reserved for loss or death, and a departed loved one's symbol could be placed there. She read on, engrossed in this new way of communications she had overlooked before.

The yautja had markings like letters and numbers, and markings that were whole words. They also had more pictographic symbols similar to ooman road signs and warning labels. And, they also had symbols for names. She knew what her masters name-symbol looked like, as it was engraved into the door of his bedroom. However, she wondered if she had a symbol at all.

Kendra still did not find anything in the books that spelled out anything related to attraction, and she supposed that was because it was obvious if you actually part of the species. She knew basically what human boys were attracted to, and she knew what she was attracted to-Being with these beasts had ruined her. Instead of good hair and cologne, nice pants and great car-what turned her on was a roar, predatory clicking, a metal mask lurching closer, the magnificent skulls he brought back, the way he looked stepping off his ship or riding an animal, deadly weapons held in clawed hands...She quickly decided that a cold shower might do her some good, and give her eyes some rest.

Back in the comfort of his room, she undressed, freely leaving her clothes in a pile on the floor, and stepped down into the pool-like tub which doubled as a shower. Her palm touched the metal nozzle and nicely warm water poured down from the ceiling. Another nozzle turned on the jets on the floor of the shower. She had always enjoyed the massaging feel of them on the bottom of her feet. The water itself was an antiseptic, but she grabbed a bar of soap that helped keep her skin from drying out and made her hair silky. And alien soap was just as slippery as the ones on Earth, but suddenly the best thing that could have happened in the shower was that she dropped the bar of soap.

Kendra quickly crouched down to snatch up the soap, but one of the short shower jets on the floor hit just the perfect spot.

She sucked in a startled breath, but the jet of water was unlike anything she had ever felt before, and her lips uttered a soft moan. She let go of the soap to place both palms against the floor to steady herself. The warm water thrummed against her clit, vibrating and making it swell. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her mouth hung open with the revelation of such an intense reaction. It quickly became too much however, and she leaned forward and away from the jet of water, her breaths heavy.

After a few seconds break, she leaned back again, hovering over the spray of water perfectly. She bit down on her lower lip to contain a shuddering moan. Her body tensed and writhed, the firm jet of water somehow so pleasurable that it was almost painful. Kendra dropped to her knees and out of the way of the jet, unable to suffer much longer, but every cell in her body was buzzing and tingling. She lifted one hand up to her pussy, gently rubbing over her swollen sensitive clit, and then slipped a finger into her.

She contented herself to sliding her fingers in and out rhythmically while the jet was aimed on her asshole, which sort of felt good too. But she wanted more. She slid herself back in position, allowing her legs to part wider so that she was lower, and the jet of water was stronger. She cried out with the intense sensation, unable to contain herself. She let herself squirm above it and whine and moan and enjoy it. She was frantic to slide two fingers inside her while still allowing the water to vibrate against her clit, rising up and away from the powerful jet only to return seconds later for more.

It made her knees feel weak, made her breaths ragged, but she pushed for that ending. She curled two fingers up inside her channel, pressing and rubbing against that rough patch just inches inside, causing bursts of pleasure to fill her up. Faster, harder, she urged her fingers. Her legs were shaking and straining as she practically did the splits to force that jet of water as close to her skin as possible. She dropped to her elbo, her hand clenching into a fist as her other hand worked and she felt her body tense before a flowing release washed through her spent body like nothing she had ever felt.

She withdrew her hand and rolled to her side, panting, and let her head rest against the hard floor as the steam billowed up around her. For several minutes, she barely moved. It was just her slowing breaths and the warm water pelting down on her. She had made herself orgasm before...but never...never like that.

She took many showers in the following weeks.

But when her master returned, his fluid-stone muscles covered in blood that wasn't his, a lump formed in her throat and her loins sparked with desire. It was obvious that the water jet wasn't going to be a substitute, and seemed only to make her impulses sharper.

His black dreds swung as he turned his head towards her, the metal beads clinking together, "Aseigan."

She went up to him, and began undoing all the armor and undressed him quickly-only to have him grumble at her when in her haste she hit one of the gashes he had obtained from the hunt. She retrieved the stool and avoided meeting his angry glare as she removed his mask. After applying the protective gloss to his hair, she skipped away to the bathroom to wash her hands and start his bath as usual.

Kindra watched the water bubble up from the bottom, and after a minute her master entered and tossed her his cloth covering to be washed. She didn't budge, her plan clear in her head, but her body frozen with uncertainty. She had chores to get to now that he was home, and all of the armor needed to be washed of blood and polished, yet she turned back to her master.

His back was turned to her, the muscles moving as his hands swept over his body to clean himself. So many times over, she had allowed herself just a peek of him. So many times, she had forced herself to turn away...but this time, would be different, if only she could find the courage.

She undressed quietly, but when she slipped into the water the ripples caused him to turn and stare at her with his golden-tinged eyes. Her heart was running a million times a minute yet her lungs wouldn't budge at all.

Her mind scrambled for anything to say, "N'yaka-de." She knew her masters name but was too afraid to try and say it because he had requested to be called master, as well as she was worried she'd pronounce his intricate name wrong.

He tilted his head to the side in question. Kendra grabbed the bar of soap, forced her lungs to work as she took a calming breath, and waded over to him. Her master simply watched as she began to slide the soap over his skin, and carefully moved around each of his new wounds. She wasn't even doing anything yet and the tension in the air was killing her.

"Que...kv'var?"

She had asked him if the hunt was good, and he replied and affirmative, "Sei-i." but his head tilted farther to the side in confusion as he looked down at her.

"Kij-ij?" She asked, inquiring if he had brought home any trophies.

Her master immediately began rattling off the events of the entire hunt, and she couldn't help but beam up at him as he talked about fantasy creatures of far off planets she could only dream of. Hearing of wings and venom and shape-shifting, she wondered why the yautja bothered with humans at all. She cleaned the blood from his body, that from his own wounds and of the creature he had beheaded, and listened to his story.

Her mistake came when he bent down some so she could wash higher on his neck, and even on her tiptoes she couldn't reach his mouth, but she tenderly kissed his bottom jaw.

Abruptly, he tore his face away, "Ki'dte!"

Enough. That was all he said before he lifted himself from the tub and left.

She held in her disappointment, feeling that it was really just her fault. She should not have kissed him. Aliens did not kiss, and so that is why he didn't like it. Kendra drained the tub, put back on her clothes, and went out into the bedroom to see if she could salvage the situation.

"Aseigan." Her master pointed to the stuff on the dresser that still needed to be cleaned and polished.

Frustration flared up inside her, as well as a few yautja cuss words, but she obeyed. When she was finished, she turned to him for another command. He had another one to give.

"Ju'dha." She went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water for him.

"Sees'se-ba." She danced.

"Ki'dte." She stopped as she was told.

"Chakt'ra." She retrieved his smart disc weapon.

She stood patiently waiting as he fiddled with the weapon and then had her put it back. When she came back, he was getting ready for bed. She did the same, but paused when she heard his voice again.

"Ava'aro?"

He'd asked her if she was hungry. She was, but he had never liked how often she had to eat and she often contented herself to going to bed hungry. Usually, he never asked. She hoped that she wasn't just imagining that his voice had grown softer.

"Sei-i."

Her master headed for the door, "Zaakee."

He allowed her to eat, and then it was off to bed. She had a corner of the room all to herself, with a soft gel mat covered in colorful variegated furs. Drawers held her clothes, shelves held her trinkets and toys. She flopped down, feeling conflicted and disappointed at first...but she had kissed him. She had kissed him, and even though he had reacted badly, she was hopeful that the next day would go better, and that thought helped her sleep.

Yautja translations (Btw, feel free to use any of these):

N'yaka-de - Master

Kv'var - Hunt

Kij-ij - Trophy

Ki'dte - Enough

Ju'dha - Water

Chakt'ra - Hunters disc

Ava'aro - Hungry