Author's note: I cleaned up Desiree's narrative in the previous chapter. The opening to this one won't make much sense until you go back and read the revision.
I was expecting a story of torture. Unnecessary surgery without anesthetics. Hot coals, whips, or maybe, since they're crabs, lots and lots of pinching.
Instead, she said, "They made me try on makeup."
Upon hearing this, I laughed.
"It's not funny," she said.
I smirked. "It kind of is. Big bad alien warrior queen getting all upset because they forcefully applied rouge to your face?"
Her skin turned a different color. "The torture was psychological. Plus they kept doing stuff around my eye. It was dangerous."
I chuckled. "It sounds like your life was in peril."
"Funny," she growled. "Real funny. Did you want to hear the rest of this story or not?"
"Sorry," I said, and she continued.
Boca left her alone, allowing her out of the ship, but only after Desiree volunteered to order several cases of Lady Suyitra finisher, Glamor Gorgon Relsak restorer and Qilvuzag colorizers and refreshers. They weren't as angry as they could have been because Boca liked a challenge and basically treated Desiree as a test guinea pig for all non-crab beauty supplies she carried.
"I think it really made a difference," Desiree said. "I was going to go to the bathroom to wash it off, but then, when I walked into that bar for the second time, I noticed you turning your head."
"I thought I was just getting used to you," I stammered.
"Maybe," she said. "But I really think Boca helped things along. In the time loops that followed, I made it a point to convince her I was a loyal customer, one that really believed in her product, because I kinda did. She still believes that's the reason why I was hiding in her cargo containers."
Desiree didn't remember things quite the same way I did, for she claimed she never said anything about slashing her wrists. Instead, captivated by her makeup enhanced beauty, I defended her the moment Jenny insulted her, and this is how it supposedly went:
As usual, Jenny came in with the "There's a girlfriend for you."
"You're right!" I allegedly said. "She has only one eye, but it is I who have been blind. Blind to the exotic beauty right in front of me."
Desiree thought I was being a total ham, but I guess I impressed her, for after asking if I really meant it a couple times, she kissed me right on the lips. Nothing too wild, mind you (after all, we just barely met) but it was a rather nice sneak preview, if her story was to be believed.
I guess we held hands and walked in the back to play pool for awhile, or something.
This story was getting more and more unbelievable by the passing moment, but there are several things that I saw that she will never believe, so what can I say.
After the first time loop, wherein I broke rocks and got introduced to the cruel and totally unpleasant Quarks, I at least had enough knowledge about these foes to have some common ground of discussion with my Dalek friend.
As we were discussing plans to destroy these enemies of ours, one of them appeared out of nowhere and shot me to pieces. I guess there's a good reason for her being all extra secretive all the time.
Desiree surrendered and she was thrown into the brig.
"Things weren't the same when you died," she said. "I think that friend of yours, Jenny, got killed by something while investigating your death. And so did that older blonde woman with the curly hair. I still managed a distraction with the two boys, but it was difficult."
I frowned at her. "What kind of distraction?"
"Oh get your mind out of the gutter. I just asked them to do a bunch of sophomoric activities to distract the guard from the cell. Raising an uproar about flatulence. That kind of thing. It was a challenge, but they eventually managed to make him disgusted enough to leave."
And she blew up the place as usual.
The next time she woke up, I wasn't in the bar, having given up on playing games trying to get food there.
She walked down to the banquet hall and found me arguing with the buffet attendant.
We danced, and I of course manipulated her to get buffet food. Again, she had no recollection of a suicide.
Instead, I apologized by sending my dog and a bunch of flowers up to her room.
"I was grateful," she said. "Maybe a little too grateful, even if half of them made me sneeze uncontrollably. I undressed, and started undressing you, but when you touched the suction cups on my back, and saw tentacles moving between my legs, you got scared and ran away in your boxers."
"I'll have to take your word on that," I muttered, sliding a hand down the side of her stomach. "So what else did I do?"
Apparently, a lot.
One time I spent the entire day on an upper deck, just staring into space.
When we were climbing through the ducts, I reached up her skirt.
I spent a day with Senator Tayari, drinking and chatting.
Someone I got Jenny interested in me, and we were kissing.
I know. I don't believe that one, either.
I got up and sang with the Dalek band.
That creature in the other prison cell ripped me to shreds, and I actually died there.
Strange as it might seem, on another timeline, me and that same bloodthirsty creature make passionate love. I really don't know how that would be possible, but she said it happened.
I got killed or somehow avoided capture, and Desiree was trapped in a cell by herself. She got caught, and they threw her out to work with the slaves.
She sat up. "You should go. We only have a few hours before this time loop starts over."
Nodding, I gave her a kiss, then, on a strange impulse, I grabbed one of her head tentacles, giving it a teasing nibble.
It tasted weird. I'm not sure what I'd compare it to, except maybe blue cheese salad dressing and earwax.
She drew in a shuddering breath in response, eyelid fluttering in pleasure.
"Don't do that," she moaned.
"What," I said, giving it another playful bite.
"What happened to `let's cuddle'?"
I flinched. "You're serious. This is really-"
"An erogenous zone. Yes. And if you keep playing with it, I'll make you go where neither one of us has ever gone before."
"I almost like the sound of that," I said.
"It's getting late," she said. "You need to practice using the Quark machine so you can save us."
I sighed. "I guess you're right."
I kissed her on the brain. "Goodbye."
But as I climbed off the bed, I tickled her tentacles with my fingers. She moaned and squirmed in response. It looked like a nest of snakes were trying to escape her bikini bottom.
"You rat!" she cried.
As usual, I knocked on the door to the Master's spaceship, giving him the secret password.
I was getting the hang of it now. Once I underwent my little operation, I could fling my tentacles anywhere I wanted, aim and fire shrapnel with precision, control the Master's behavior, whatever it was worth, and even turn myself invisible.
Teleportation, however, needed some serious work.
Overly cautious this time, I transported myself all over the craft without a problem, but somehow I managed to transplant myself into the wall of the Island Princess, to a point where I was half in, half out, and unable to get free.
This in and of itself wouldn't have been so bad, but this also entailed a large piece of metal running completely through my little frog body, one bloody half of me outside the craft, the other bloody chunk on the inside.
When I awoke, I again found myself in that posh deluxe bed, but I was naked.
And not just naked, naked with another naked body pressed against mine.
A cyclopean face smiled down on me as a cluster of squirming tentacles did strange things to my crotch.
"See?" she purred. "I told you I'd make you go where neither one of us had gone before!"
