Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

To Date a Yautja	By : Sonsasu Category: M through R > Predator Views: 5140 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Predator movies, books or comics. Nor do I make a profit from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
To Date A Yautja
By, Sonsasu
Chapter One
"The First Signs of Trouble"
Walking over the obstacles of two giant glass mugs, a bowl with a spoon in it, and wads of used clothing scattered about the floor, I nudged things aside with a bare foot, forging a path before sitting down at my simple desk. As the only thing that was remotely clean in my room, its surface remained buried under sheets of unfinished homework, and piled atop of that were drawings of Predators, Xenomorphs and several Dragons.
Running a hand through black hair with a dingy purple dye tipping its ends, I removed a white hair band from my wrist, sliding it on the shoulder length locks, thus turning it into a simple ponytail. Once finished, I pressed a random button on my keyboard, bringing one of the laziest computers back from its nap.
The same old screensaver, an emoticon vampire on a dimmed crimson background, greeted me with a smug, toothy smirk.
Placing my right hand on the mouse beside the keyboard, I moved the cursor to pull up the start menu, clicking on yahoo messenger. I quickly signed in, expecting no one to be on at this late hour.
A grin spread on my face as I spied the name Predy in my slender lineup of online friends. I happily tapped on his name, sending him an IM as soon as the messenger bubble appeared.
"I didn't think anyone was on." I fought to get rid of my growing smile, seeing no reason to show emotion to someone who could not see it.
"Ah, and yet here I am, Winterborn." The once reduced pull on my mouth came back to full force. "So, what you been up to, great and mighty Predator?" The rapping of my fingers striking the keys seemed loud in my quiet room.
"I am still searching for worthy Oomans to hunt, do you know of any?" I shook my head; Predy never did like dropping his persona of being a Yautja on the hunt.
I sent him my reply.
"Aw, so sorry, I'm not on the hunting list fella." Feeling an unpleasant twinge in my shoulders, I leaned back in my spongy chair of soft brown leather and tossed a leg over its padded armrest, keeping my sun-kissed fingers lax, but ready to dance over the keyboard.
"How saddening, I would relish the pleasure to pursue you instead of these decrepit Ooman males."
I, in an unquiet huff of air, snorted; he probably would enjoy the chase. "Yeah, you know I'd be the ultimate challenge, big guy. You'd never be able to catch me." Just for good measure, I contributed a smiley face with its tongue sticking out.
"Is this an offer, dear one?"
I nibbled on the skin of my lower lip to keep anymore less-than-silent outbursts at bay. "Err, yeah sure..." On a sudden thought that induced a lewd noise from me, I included something else. "On the condition that you ravish me and I get to be your pampered pet if you can catch me." So he would be aware of the sarcasm, I gave him a smiley face with its eyes rolling.
"Good, and your terms are accepted."
I cast my own gray gaze skyward in annoyance; he had to be by far the most unsarcastic person I knew. "Okay�and how are you going to stick with those specific requests if you're going to hunt me? Personally, I like my skull right where it is, thank you very much."
He chose not to immediately reply.
I pursed my lips in the stretch of time that Predy stayed silent, thinking. Constantly watching episodes of CSI had turned me suspicious of those that were unknown to me in life outside of the internet.
"I would not harm you, Winterborn. The high matriarch of my people prohibits it, so long as you are not a great threat. For such a thing would bruise a hunter's reputation and honor. When we hunt females, it is for entirely different reasons."
His obvious intentions through his wording brought to life a droll snicker. "You're such a lecher, I'm blushing now." I released a chuckle, but forced it to persist as a breathy ghost of its full glory.
"Alright, change of subject. What state do you live in?" That seemed like a safer ground to be on, or so I believed.
"You have already asked me this before. Therefore, my answer is the same. I am orbiting your planet in space, speaking to you from my ship."
A real live Predator with a yahoo messenger, sure why not, at least he could stay in character.
"If you say so, but it's too bad you're all the way up there. I would have loved to meet you." Teasing him seemed okay, considering that unless he had one hell of a costume, he could not back up any of his Predator-related claims.
"Actually, I'd want to touch you. A real live Yautja makes me shiver with just his image, and that type of thrill I get is the welcome kind. After all, I've always thought your people were like an aphrodisiac for the eyes. All those big, strong muscles, incredibly statuesque, and unique skin just begging for an exploration, it's enough to make a poor human girl weak in the knees. Oh, and I especially love the dreadlocks, and can't forget those powerful mandibles."
I removed my hand from the mouse and sealed it over my lips, lest I start laughing aloud. If he actually was a Predator, God forbid, then this had to be by far the biggest ego stroke.
"This is deeply pleasing to hear! Many Ooman females instantly find Yautja repulsing, and are not openly delighted by our appearances."
It was with one hand I responded to him, still fighting with my quivering mirth. "Well, the ones who are spooked by your looks are just empty headed twats, then. On the other hand, maybe they're intimidated because of the trophy thing. Ladies don't often enjoy the idea of seeing other human skulls on display."
Finally resuming control over my laugher after hitting the send button, I began typing again before he could finish whatever he was writing in response on the other end. "Don't worry handsome, if I ever get to see your collection, I would adore your trophies. Skulls don't bother me, and I have no doubt you've got more then any hunter around, of course. Although you still have to catch me, ravish me, and so on before we get to that point."
A little voice, hissing warnings like a demented soothsayer on crack, started nagging me over going too far in what I said to Predy.
I stitched its motor of a mouth with simple logic.
My dear, yet ridiculously persistent role-playing friend did not know where I resided or what I looked like. Heck, he did not even know my real name.
"I do not think you can fully grasp what pleasure I gain in hearing you say these things."
I was sorely tempted to correct him, there was no way he could hear me say anything.
"First, I need to understand something, Winterborn."
My eyebrows tightened in a mild frown. "Uh, ask away."
"You do not fear the Yautja, and you clearly know of us, how and why?"
I hesitated for several heartbeats, my mind buzzing like a frantic beehive.
In those sluggish seconds spent formulating a complex story that had a plot hole big enough to drive a truck through, an image of a movie flicked a light bulb on in my head.
A Cheshire cat grin abruptly lit up my face as my fingers went to work on the keyboard.
"When I was younger, six years old I think, I saw a Predator during his hunt. I can't remember where it was anymore, though." I did not bother to mention that it was a movie I had seen, not the real thing.
"Even though the killing was terrifyingly vicious and the bloodshed sent me to hide behind something, I was whole heartedly fascinated with him. His movements, his unending might, even his armored appearance tugged at something within me. When the fighting ended, however, I snuck out and went near him. His deep growling made me shudder once he saw me, but I liked it, and stood there watching him collect his grisly trophies. Anyway, I was a kid, and the memory is fairly old and dim. And about my learning a few facts on the Yautja, I've dragged up every scrap of information ever known to man. My information goes to detailed legends, to stories told to frighten children, that�and a little guessing here and there to fill in the blanks."
A tongue-curling yawn escaped before I could smother it.
"Do you have a mate, Winterborn?"
Damn, well that one came way out of left field.
"Err, no. I tend to scare off people who even consider me date worthy material. Most men enjoy the usual things in women that I refused to do most of the time. Like removal of body hair. I think I can pull off the look that makes me seem like I'm smuggling Chewbacca under my clothes. Having sex is another issue, never done it before, and I want someone that's a hell of a lot more experienced then I am in bed. Ah, and of course, not to behave like another guy, it just wrinkles their precious masculinity when a gal can be more of a man then someone without a pinky for a pecker."
An imp of lascivious thoughts whispered in my ear and guided my fingers to a new question.
"Speaking of peckers, mind if this Peter Piper knows what she'll be picking?"
I stared at what was just typed, my jaw honestly slack, before angrily batting at the invisible imp hovering on my shoulder.
"An amusing question, but I will answer it for you."
I could feel the hot sting of a blush heat my cheeks.
"My length is longer, and its girth thicker then any pitiful Ooman male's greatest dream for one. Moreover, its sight will make you ache and tremble for it to be inside you, taming your body to belong to mine."
Yep, and that is what I get for listening to an imaginary, horny imp.
"That was an impressive boast, I guess. Trick is do you have the skills to use it to perform the so-called taming of yours? Let's say, if you manage to capture me, what will you do?"
I felt like giving myself a pat on the shoulder for that one.
"Your doubt over the accuracy of my size will be soothed once I have you under me. Nevertheless, what demands my attention is the thought of dominating your unseasoned body. It will be gratifying, and I am more then willing to reveal the details of what you will be begging for in time."
A small twinge of warmth accosted my frame. Boy, oh boy was he a confident one tonight.
"My tongue will be the first to sample you and make your senses writhe with the sweet burn of lust before my fingers relieve the ache. And once you are well prepared, I will take my time and relish your cries for more when, and as I take you."
That subjected me to a shift in my seat.
"I shall find you tomorrow evening, and make good on this promise."
Hey, wait a second.
Aw, hell no, he was going to pay my ass a visit tomorrow?
"Hold on, two fair questions. How do you know I'm not some disturbed, insane freak of a person? For all you know I could be diseased, or with some government agency. Okay, three questions now, exactly how are you going to find me?"
My once ignored concern flared multiple red flags, and the demented soothsayer on crack said, "I told you so."
"And three perfectly fine answers in return. Even if you have the damage of madness, you do not pose a threat physically. If you are diseased, my ship's medical lab has many ways to cure such sicknesses. If you are apart of those who would seek to steal Yautja technologies, I would first hunt you down, and gather the needed information. Afterwards, I would go to wherever these insects reside and remove them."
I guess I was a glutton for punishment. "What happens to me�?"
"You would not suffer death, if that is what concerns you. I would keep you as a private slave for my pleasure."
I should have listened to that damn nagging voice.
"As for locating you, your primitive computer emits a signal that I can track easily."
The word primitive dropped a kink into my pride for humanity's technological advances, yet my next question had already gone to him before I could give a good retort. "That's something that's been bugging me lately. How did you find me out of the billions of people on the internet?"
Ugh, wonderful, now I was acting as if he really was a Yautja.
"When I came into orbit around your home world, I received an interesting and unguarded display point of signals. Filtering out the many other distractions that came with it, I discovered a massive communications program called Yahoo messenger listing. Curious, I studied this Ooman system of sending messages for a time. Eventually, it gave individual names of those who lingered in the broadcast range, far too many to examine in one lifetime. Thus, to minimize time wastage, I searched for a single name, and found yours. Winterborn is the honored title of the one who gave birth to me."
Well, that explanation pretty much took the whole frigging cake and left me the hard chip-a-tooth frosting.
I set my fingers onto the keys, but never got the chance to say anything.
"I will show you once I have taken you to my ship, after I have won the chase and our mating."
Before I could persuade him with different and utterly horrible reasons not to, he signed off.
"Oh shit, shit, shit, shitty, shit, shit."
Great, just want I always wanted! A horny role-playing stalker, could my week get any better? I had only been talking to Predy for scarcely a week and a half and still did not know his name. When asked, the bastard always said, "Only proven warriors or honored hunters may know a Yautja's blood name."
Jerk.
Oh even better, I realized upon looking out the window, I would be getting a full two hours of sleep before getting up again. Sighing in aggravation, I logged off, cleaned out the cookie cache and then shut it down, which took a full minute because the computer despised my late habits and me. Holding my lower lip hostage between my teeth, I began to consider how to wiggle out of this situation, and then thumped myself upside the forehead. He did not know what I looked like or where I lived, and he was certainly not a real live Predator.
Probably should not even be worrying about this, I mused.
Releasing said lip and then running a palm down my face, I untangled from the chair and got up. I eased stiff limbs with a good stretch before crawling onto my small, unmade bed set against my desk's front. Mumbling in bliss, I reclined upon my side, head pillowed on my folded arm.
Set underneath a low solitary window, my comforting view of an outside world, meaning the palely lit sky, consisted of three pleasant details.
Skeletal branches of a tree long ago dead, rested on the edges of the panel, dissecting the sky like thick, spider web cracks of shattered glass. Whilst beyond, hundreds of stars slowly faded, struggling to shine their brilliance in the oncoming morning light.
Yet one thing beguiled my unhindered sight, binding me in an enchantment of sleepy content.
Hovering just beyond a pallid crimson horizon, the dimmed sphere of the moon barely remained in the corner of my screened window frame. Watching that ivory quarter hang in the heavens, an obtuse thought rekindled itself, along with a violent shiver.
I really needed to turn off the air conditioner.
Fortunately, the wrinkled blue sheets contained the scant warmth absorbed from of the night air, giving me a moment's repose from the cold. My gray pajamas' I normally wore never contained any kind of heat within the freezing room.
Wearily, I balled up on myself and seduced heavy eyelids to fall shut. In the small unfolding of seconds, quickly turning into minutes, I did nothing but listen to distant hoots of owls and the soft chirp of crickets.
While still battling the concern of how Predy could possibly find me�

-Claimer-

� 2007-Sonsasu owns Winterborn, the plot, and Predy
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

To Date a Yautja