I Married A Lizardman (Prime Mating Agency)

I Married A Lizardman: Chapter 4



I nearly panicked when both females each grabbed onto one of my upper arms and started luring me away.

“We have to prepare you for your mating ceremony,” Yamir said while pulling me after her.

I cast a worried look over my shoulder toward Olix who smiled encouragingly while getting himself dragged away by a couple of males.

“Do not worry,” Luped said as I followed them, trying not to freak out. “We are just going to adorn you in the traditional colors, then we will bring you back to the square… hmmm… plaza I think you call it. There, our Seer, Molzeg, will bless your union. And then, we will feast and dance!”

I knew a second wedding ceremony awaited me upon my arrival, but I thought they’d grant me an hour or so to relax, stretch my legs, guzzle down a drink, unpack my stuff, and get my bearings. I didn’t even get a chance to take my bag from the mraka.

“I do not mean to be rude,” I said as the two females ushered me inside a beautiful dwelling right next to the plaza and which seemed a bit more imposing than the others, “but, may I ask what’s the rush? I’ve only just arrived.”

Thankfully, neither female appeared offended by my words, an air of sympathy settling on their alien features.

“I am sorry you feel this is rushed,” Luped said. “It must be overwhelming for you. However, many of the guests come from neighboring clans. They have made a long journey here to pay their respects and honor your union. They must return to their respective villages after the celebrations. As we travel in the traditional fashion, it would be more challenging for their young to travel after nightfall.”

“I see,” I replied, both flattered and mollified by her answer. “I had not realized neighboring villages would go through such trouble for my wedding.”

“Of course, they would,” Yamir said with a slight frown. “You are marrying the great Hunter Olix Nillis, Leader of Clan Monkoo. He is the Spear of the Andturian clans of Xecania. He unites us all. Any less would have been an offense to him, but especially to you.”

These words felt like a warning but also like a major burden had suddenly been rested on my shoulders. The way she looked at me as she spoke them clearly meant to convey the fact that I now had a duty that would impact her son’s standing among his people, both here in our village and amidst the other clans. I had not bargained for that.

“I am honored,” I replied in a small voice.

That answer seemed to please her. Smiling, she lured me closer to the large table that occupied one half of the vast room that seemed to serve as an open plan dining and living area. There was no kitchen per se, only what could amount to a kitchenette at best. Andturians were a community-focused species and didn’t cook individually, but for the clan as a whole. At the back, a series of doors led to what I assumed to be bedrooms and storage space.

Massive windows ate up most of the walls of the main area. While they gave us a clear view of what was happening outside, they didn’t allow people outside the house from seeing within. And it was a damn good thing, too, considering my mother-in-law immediately began trying to rid me of my clothes.

It was highly uncomfortable, although not unexpected. As Kayog had warned me of my Andturian wedding, I had read up on it on my way here. As with everything else, their people didn’t wear clothes. In the meantime, Luped was mixing some sort of tribal paints that they would apply on me.

“So… regarding the wedding attire,” I said tentatively, while allowing Yamir to help me out of my shirt and pants, “my people are not comfortable with full nakedness like yours.”

Yamir stiffened and stared at me, my pants clutched in her hand. I licked my lips nervously, cast a sideways glance at her daughter, who was also looking at me, before pursuing my thought.

“I don’t need to tell you that, unlike Andturians, humans do not have scales,” I added with a nervous laughter. “Our clothes do not only shelter us from the cold and from getting hurt by things we might come into contact with, but they also helped preserve our modesty.”

“Modesty?” Yamir asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Our anatomy is different,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

I didn’t know how much they knew about humans. I always felt it was better to err on the side of caution but also didn’t want to offend them by stating the obvious or implying that I questioned their intelligence.

“You do not have prominent breasts like human females do,” I said, gesturing at my rather generous boobs. “Although our lower region is generally similar,” I added waving at my crotch, “yours is naturally covered and protected by scales. Mine is completely exposed, as is my behind.”

My cheeks felt on the verge of bursting into flames from embarrassment. I couldn’t believe this was the first conversation I was having with my in-laws. What the heck had I gotten myself into? And yet, I forced myself to plow through.

“My people were originally a religious colony. It was considered a crime to expose our nudity to any male other than our husband, or a medical professional for the purpose of treatment. While it is no longer a crime, we still consider it inappropriate to expose ourselves in public, especially to people of a different gender. My husband is the only man that should see me naked.”

To my surprise, the two females had taken on a wary expression, Yamir in particular, taking a few steps back as if she was becoming afraid of me. It wasn’t fear but concern of what I might do. My brain froze for a second, and then it hit me.

“Is my face red?” I asked, touching my cheeks, the heat confirming I was probably beet red.

“Yes,” Yamir answered carefully.

“I’m not furious,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “Olix thought the same earlier. Humans take on various shades of pink and red, around our faces and necks, when we are very shy or embarrassed. We can turn red when we’re angry, too, but then it is very obvious that we are furious. We’re usually shouting and grimacing when that happens.”

Yamir’s and Luped’s shoulders relaxed, a relieved expression settling on their faces.

“Thank you for this explanation, on both your people’s culture and your anatomical responses,” the older female said. “We were getting afraid we had somehow provoked your ire. When our people’s scales turn this shade of red, a bloody battle usually ensues. I would have hated to have to explain to my son why we were facing off in a duel with his new mate.”

This time, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the visual. Then again, it would not have been amusing for me as the females were clearly quite strong—almost at par with their males according to what I had read—and would have made mincemeat out of me.

“It would have indeed been quite awkward,” I concurred. “However, I understand that you are now my new people, and I want to at least meet you halfway when I cannot fully embrace some of your ways. I cannot show my private parts in public, as we call them, but I can wear certain underwear that will at least give the illusion that I am. But for that, I would need my bag that was left on the mraka.”

“I will go get it,” Luped offered with an enthusiastic smile.

Without waiting for my response, she headed straight from the door. I barely had time to thank her before the door was already closing behind her. I turned back to my mother-in-law to find her smiling oddly at me.

“I did not know what to think when Molzeg insisted that my son, our leader, should take an off-worlder as his mate,” Yamir said as if musing out loud. “I feared you would trample every single one of our ways and entrench yourself in your own, which would inevitably undermine my son’s position, especially considering these trying times. This consideration you are showing to our culture, while remaining true to yours, honors both our peoples and gives me hope for the future. A clan leader’s mate naturally has greater responsibilities. As a foreigner, you will sustain even greater scrutiny. As long as you maintain this open-mindedness and willingness to uphold our values to the extent of your capacity, you will find me a loyal ally.”

Those words moved me more than I could express. However, I didn’t get a chance to respond as Luped stormed back in, showing me my bag with a triumphant grin. I smiled at her mother and nodded to express my gratitude at her words before thanking Luped.

I fished out my nude underwear from the bag, the finest lingerie I possessed, aside from the black lace set I had also acquired for my wedding night. I had bought both before my departure, which had earned me some pointed looks from the clerk on Meterion.

As I held the lingerie in my hands, I looked in turn at the two females who were staring at me expectantly. Heat creeped back onto my cheeks when I realized they were waiting for me to strip in front of them. It was odd that I should feel so self-conscious when I had undressed countless times in front of other women without a blink. But them being alien made things completely different.

A part of me wanted to sneak into one of the bedrooms to change. After all, I had just given them the whole speech about us not stripping in front of strangers. But I had specified that it mainly applied to not showing ourselves to other males. Swallowing back a sigh, I decided to suck it up and just finish stripping, more grateful than ever that I had smoothly shaved all the bits that needed to be.

While my breasts certainly piqued their interest, my hoo-ha acted like the world’s biggest magnet. The way their lizard eyes zeroed in on it, you think some sort of neon sign pointing at it was blinking frantically, commanding their attention. I’d never felt so embarrassed in my life. You’d think I was some sort of insect being studied under a microscope. I didn’t doubt for a minute that the females meant no disrespect. In their stead, I would have been fighting like hell not to stare, but my eyes would be fighting me tooth and nail to keep peeking.

Judging by their oddly expressive faces—which I had expected to be stiff with all those scales—they were quite taken aback by its appearance. Needless to say, I worried about my husband’s reaction when the time would come. Either way, I quickly slipped into my undies to put an end to that scrutiny. And yet, even after I had put my panties on, the females continued staring at my crotch for a short while longer, as if they could see through the fabric, while I donned my bra. I still felt far too naked and exposed, but I consoled myself by trying to imagine this was a bikini and not underwear.

Nevertheless, the color did blend well with my skin tone, and both my in-laws appeared to approve of the final result. They immediately proceeded to draw swirly tribal patterns on my arms and neck with the paint Luped had mixed. They worked with a swiftness and an exquisite dexterity that left me breathless, especially Yamir. To my pleasant surprise, the paint didn’t have a chemical scent, but a lovely spicy-sweet aroma that reminded me of mulled wine.

Once that task was completed, they adorned me with bracelets and necklaces of incredible craftsmanship, but then appeared completely baffled when it came to what to do with my hair. The thick but supple strands, covered in some kind of thin scales, that dangled at the back of their heads reminded me of strange dreadlocks. It would take far too long for me to braid my hair in a way that even remotely resembled that, but I had smart rings that would automatically spiral around the length of however thick the section of hair I clipped it around. The coppery wire looked beautiful against my hair; their color almost similar.

Yamir’s eyes widened with surprise and then pleasure when I did the first one. Luped made a weird hooting-hissing sound of approval as I moved on to the second. Within minutes, I’d done my whole head with two dozen faux dreadlocks. Normally, I only did one on each side of my face, like the Vikings of old would have a pair of braids framing their faces. Luped and Yamir tied a few leather strings to my locks, from which dangled various small, colorful, polished stones.

By the time they were done, my head felt a little heavy, but not painfully so. Ready at last, the females gestured for us to go. To their dismay, I retrieved a pair of simple pair of slide sandals and shoved my feet in them.

“My soles aren’t protected like yours,” I explained. “I would hurt my feet and likely cut myself on the small rocks on the ground.”

The females both looked at my feet, once more unimpressed by how squishy I was turning out to be. Their scaly lips quivered in what I assumed to be the equivalent of a human pinching her lips reprovingly. Thankfully, they did not give me a hard time about it.

Yamir gestured for me to head towards the door. Granted, a good half hour had already gone by since we’d entered the house, probably even more. However, as the Plaza had been mostly barren upon our arrival, I expected the people would want a bit more time to finish setting things up, whatever they would be. To my shock, as soon as Luped opened the door, I was greeted with a mesmerizing view of my wedding altar.

Instead of the traditional chairs and benches, and excess of flowers and ribbons common to human weddings, the Andturians had laid out rows upon rows of low, cushioned benches, in a circular radius on the plaza. Right outside the last row, evenly spaced tiki-looking torches surrounded the area. Floating lanterns created almost a starry dome overhead. Clearly, no technological device operated them. It took me a moment to notice the barely visible network of thread that connected them, keeping them from flying away.

In the center, the elder female named Molzeg awaited us. A small, cylindrical altar made of some sort of lightwood, carved with the most beautiful and intricate design, sat in front of her. Behind her, two impressive males held what I could only presume to be ceremonial objects.

Mesmerized, I advanced almost in a daze while the people began chanting and making rhythmic sounds with both their hands and their tails. It took me a moment to realize that Olix was on the other side of the plaza, straight in front of me, also being escorted to the altar, but by two males instead.

I didn’t know him, and I certainly wasn’t in love with him, but the hypnotic sound of the percussion instruments, of the alien voices chanting, of their rhythmic clapping, and the beauty of these simple decorations put me into a magical trance that I only expected to experience in a marriage of love. My heart fluttered, and my head spun as I put one foot in front of the other.

We stopped in front of each other, eyes locked. Something strange passed between us. I was so lost in the moment that I didn’t even notice the chanting stopping and the Elder Seer beginning to speak. The sight of a light smoke floating between us with a scent of herbal incense snapped me out of my daze. I then glanced at the altar where some herbs were burning while Molzeg recited the traditional speech of the Andturian weddings in their native language.

I did not have the translation module for it. It was never built due to the lack of demand. Andturians were still considered a primitive species and had a fairly small population that mostly kept to itself. As they spoke Universal pretty well, it was never deemed necessary. At least, my translator would eventually learn their language.

Despite my lack of understanding of the words themselves, I basically imitated whatever Olix did. When Molzeg presented him with a plate containing a dried fruit that reminded me of a prune, he picked it up and brought it to my lips. I accepted the surprisingly tasty morsel and ate it. Then I reciprocated by feeding him a similar thing. When he extended his hands towards me, palms facing up, I placed mine in his. Molzeg then took a bowl from one of the two males behind her then began circling around us, dipping her fingers inside it, then splashing us with some droplets. The whole time she chanted something to which the assembly responded a single word with religious fervor.

I had no clue what that liquid was, but it looked clear like water and had no particular scent. Then again, with the herbal incense still burning, it would be hard for my poor human nose to detect anything else, unless it was very pungent. The Seer completed three such rotations around us before remitting the bowl to one of the males. She then turned to the second male and took from him long leafy branches.

Once more, Molzeg circled around us, brushing the leaves over Olix’s back down to his thighs, then back up his sides to his shoulders, before following the length of his arms. Pursuing this path, the branches caressed my hand, still held in his, and repeated the pattern in reverse, up my arm, down my side, over my back and then along my other arm until it reconnected to Olix over our other hands.

Although I couldn’t be certain, I believed this was a ritual of binding. It was rather pleasant and beautiful, bringing a smile to my face. Then Molzeg stood next to us. She placed the leafy part of the branch over our joined hands and said something else at the end of which Olix responded with a single word. Panic immediately set in as I hadn’t understood the word and would never be able to repeat it. My breath hitched when Molzeg turned to me.

“Are you freely taking this Hunter to be your life partner, the sire of your offspring, the pillar upon who you rely in your moments of weakness, and do you promise to be his safe haven at all times and the rock that will help him stand tall when his own strength wavers?” the Seer asked in Universal.

“Yes, I do,” I replied, relief flooding through me.

In response, Molzeg slapped the leaves over our hands. As mine were on top, it stung quite a bit. Not enough to hurt, but enough for me to notice. She recited a few more words then flicked the branches again in quick succession over Olix’s forearms and then over mine. This time, I flinched and clenched my teeth. That one hurt. Olix noticed my change in demeanor and slightly frowned, a questioning look in his eyes. But I never got a chance to even try to express the source of my discomfort.

I heard the whistling sound before the branch connected with Olix’s side. He didn’t flinch or even seem to feel it. My stomach dropped, and my blood turned to ice as the whistling sound—frighteningly reminiscent of that of a whip—resonated again seconds before the branch connected with my bare waist.

Searing pain exploded in my side, and I cried out. Yanking my left hand out of Olix’s, I covered the wounded area while casting an outraged and disbelieving look at the Elder Seer.

“What the fuck? Ow! Be care—”

“NO!” Olix shouted, interrupting me. The look of shock and horror on his face instantly numbed the throbbing in my sides. “What have you done?!”

An ominous silence had settled over the gathering, the same horrified or crestfallen expressions reflected on every face. The way they looked at Olix’s empty hand as one would the boogeyman, I realized I’d royally fucked up.


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