Dumala stared down at the brand in his palm. Raised lines of skin formed a symbol, a name. Looking at it made his chest ache, so he closed his hand into a tight fist and tried to think of other things. He should have gone for a hunt, as they always gave him drive and focus. He felt like his life held no purpose anymore though, and so hunts seemed poinless. He was in need of a distraction, and so he went back to the brothel.

The owner of the business greeted him right inside the the building. It was a mature female. She towered over him by several feet, her iridescent metal rank rings in her brown hair clinking together as she gave a slight nod. Her mischievous amber eyes locked onto his. Dumala grunted and tipped his head in an informal greeting.

Then he said, "I wish to experience something different."

She perked up some, "Of course. You've always met with our females, but we offer a variety of other species."

"Prey? I was thinking more along the lines of watching an exhibit, or renting out a play room with a yautja female."

"Nonsense. I insist that you take a look at our selection. Besides, all of our rooms are currently rented out, or under construction, and our best performers require an appointment beforehand. Follow me."

Dumala followed the female as she took him down into the shadier basement corridors. The hallways were still plain, but the walls had glass for viewing inside. The yautja female placed her palm on one of the darkly tinted windows and the glass lightened until he could see inside. Unlike the yautja escort quarters, the alien species were in cages, not personalized rooms. Dumala shuffled closer to peer inside.

There was a six legged animal inside, bigger than he was. It looked almost like a dragon, with claws, teeth, and even a tail. Its skin looked rough like sandpaper, and was a light blue and white color. Dumala tilted his head to the side, looking at its sex. It was glistening with slick juices and looked big enough to fit his head inside.

"That doesn't exactly interest me." Dumala choked.

"You were once a great hunter. This beast will try and kill you until you satisfy it. It will be an epic challenge."

"That still doesn't interest me."

"There are no cameras, and our customers privacy is a top priority." She moved towards the door to let him inside.

"I am looking for something a little less strenuous. Have one of the yautja females put on a show for me."

The owner insisted on introducing him to several other species-some he would call animals, while some seemed like higher beings. None of them caught his attention, until he recognized a specimen name on one of the doors. When the female placed her hand on the glass, it didn't lighten. Dumala had been curious to see the creature, but that meant that a guest was currently renting the room. The owner tried to move on.

"You have oomans?"

"Yes, but I don't think they are quite suited to your needs anyway."

All of the other species were prey as well, and that was a turnoff for Dumala. However, he'd never hunted oomans, and hoped that it would feel less strange to mate one. "I'll try an ooman."

The yautja female squared herself in front of him, "Oomans are delicate. Very recently a youngblood was delivering goods, got into an oomans cell, and accidentally killed her."

"By mating?"

"Like I said, oomans aren't suited to your needs."

"I want one."

"Alright. The only one available at the moment is a new female. She's been around yautjas enough not to freak out, but hasn't been mated by one before. We'll get her ready for you." The yautja female had Dumala wait while she went to prepare the ooman.

An alien female she'd seen before rushed into her cell, and Nicole's first reaction was to run away. The female was bigger and faster than she was though, and got a hold of her arm. The yautjas grip was firm but not too tight as she drug Nicole towards the door. She resisted, her heart pounding, but didn't struggle. She knew she'd be beaten if she tried to fight.

"A very valuable customer has chosen you, and it is important that we retain his business. Do you understand?"

"What do I do?"

"You won't have to do a thing. He will make the moves and position you. It wouldn't matter to him if you were asleep. He will be rough, but you are not to fight back. We talked about areas not to touch, didn't we? Repeat them."

"Hair, groin, mouth, throat."

The yautja drug her into a wash room, having her step into a machine that submerged her in a blue gel. It would reduce the natural oily smell of her skin that some yautjas found to be a bit too gamey. Then, she was dried, and the alien woman with the amber eyes started to paint her. She got smacked every time she tried to wiggly away. The paint dried quickly and then she was presented with jewelry.

Nicole got to choose what items to put on, and then she was shoved into a room with nothing more then a bed. She felt nervous standing there naked. She had cloth, leather, and metal jewelry on her, making her feel like a gypsy. They went up her arms, on her wrists, and around her ankles. Nicole fidgeted with them as she waited.

Dumala felt little pity for what he was about to do. Oomans were lower lifeforms, prey. He would be too rough with her, but she was there to satisfy his needs. Dumala walked until he found the appropriately marked room, and went inside. She had been moved from her cell in the basement to a small room. The air was colder then what he was used to, but not uncomfortable.

To Nicole, all of the air seemed to vanish from the room as the door closed behind him. Orange eyes settled on her from across the room. The alien male was about seven foot tall, way over her own height, but shorter than others she'd seen. He was stocky, with broad shoulders and rolling muscles. His face was alien, but she didn't find it appalling like the other human girls had said.

Dumala stood in front of the door, his animalistic urges all but vanishing as he laid his eyes on her. She was much smaller than he anticipated, and skinny, looking rather like a child. Her eyes were a bronze-tinged green, and they were wide and staring at him. Her hair was shorter for a female, only reaching her shoulders, strait, and jet black. A few scars covered her pink skin, and luminous blue tiger stripes had been pained on her body.

Her head slowly turned from him, to the bed, and Dumala was reminded why he was there. Nicole backed away as he slowly stepped towards her though, and he wondered if it was some sort of ooman mating ritual. Yautja females enjoyed a good game of take-down and capture, but the ooman female didn't run. She mirrored his steps, turning as he turned, and they ended up doing circles around the room. But then her back hit a wall.

Dumala stopped a couple feet in front of her and looked in her eyes, waiting. He didn't know any ooman mating customs, and since she was on his planet, they should be going by his customs anyway. The female always had to give consent first. He wouldn't touch her if she didn't give consent. It just wouldn't feel right to him.

Nicole was frozen with fear, waiting for him to make a move. His broad chest slowly rose and fell in front of her eyes. After a moment though, she gulped down pooling in her mouth, and tried to calm her soaring heartbeats. He hadn't hurt her, hadn't even touched her. Bashfully, she tried to look over his body, and at his clothes, without making it obvious that she was staring.

His skin was a light cream, with brown coloring and black mottling. Small bony protrusions grew along the bottom of his lower mandibles, as well as up both sides of his forehead. Short spikes were scattered up his arms, and in the middle of his abs. He wore a necklace of small multicolored stones over a tarnished metal collar. Leather open-finger gloves were on his hands.

Careful not to touch her, he pressed his body closer. He could see her rapid pulse in a vein on her neck, and wondered if her heart was normally so fast. Her smell was different, and not at all alluring like yautja females. There was a smell coming off her that he liked though, but it was masked by something else. Dumala bent down to get a better smell of that sweetness hiding from him.

However, the closer he got, the less sweet she smelled, and he started to wonder if she was afraid or angry. She didn't smell aroused, but he was not used to ooman smells. He was beginning to think that she wouldn't give him consent, or didn't know how. But then with him mere inches away from her, she shoved at his chest with her face turned away. She had touched him first, and that was consent.