by Ken Rivers
I kicked off my boots and sat on the edge of the creaky bed. The stress of the whole damn day had taken its toll. I was pronounced a dead man and my wound was aching. Hard to relax in that situation, so I thought I probably wouldn’t sleep even if I tried. It took a while before I started to doze off, and then a quick tapping sound and scrape of something on glass stopped me from entering slumber-land.
I groaned and sat up to see a giant Flit perched on the window ledge, pecking at the glass.
“Lady Yen?” I asked. It cocked its head sideways then tapped its beak once more and waited. I took that as a yes. The window that never saw sunshine and clean air took some time to work open. It slid, stopped, then slammed upward but still didn’t open all the way. She ducked through and landed on the floor, her talons scraping and clicking against the wood.
She bloated up just like before, was engulfed in green light, then stood before me, holding her finger against her lips. “Sound travels well through Levani architecture. We must be quiet about this.”
“Quiet about what?”
She moved closer to me. “Our dear sister will learn from us how to better grasp her potential in the healing arts.” She came closer and grabbed my right arm. I winced. “My brother doesn’t even know that little bitch yet, but he has already decreed her to be one of us. He’s wants her by his side. Do you know why? He thinks your ailment is beyond my ability to heal. He thinks she has more potential than I do and has called for the cousins to assist me. That’s why I’m here now. I will prove him wrong and tend to you myself. I will show him that he is wrong. He thinks I don’t know how it’s done, but I do. Now, take your shirt off.”
“And what if I refuse?”
“I don’t think you will, and I’m not used to being told no. I could blow your head up like an overripe fruit and blame your death on exposure to the mists, or you could show me your wound and I can try to help you stay alive.”
Sounded like an honest answer. Plus, I had never been alone in a room with a bed and a Levani woman. My dick had its curious hopes, but I understood the implications of the conversation. Say yes, and be in their debt. Say no, and probably be murdered in my sleep. “Fine, Lady Yen.”
I unzipped and threw the leather jacket back off my shoulders and exposed the dull glow of orange that it hid. My white shirt came up next, and I saw that the black had grown and now covered half my abdomen. Streaks of deep night reached into the orange magic that Yari had placed inside me, or given to me, or whatever the hell the process was to stop me from dying.
Lady Yen came close and knelt, eye level with the wound, and with something else that ached from time to time. I struggled to hold back the rush of blood that came when her fingers slid across my waist line.
She looked up at me, her long green hair slipping down to cover her lower back. “It really is a wonder you’re still alive. You have two things to thank, Yari’s sheer brute magic power and your remarkable constitution.”
“I used to work out.”
She rolled her eyes and refocused on my wounds. “We Levani don’t require such efforts,” she said as she pushed her glowing green fingers into the orange part of my stomach. “How’s the pain?”
“Not that bad, actually.” Damn it, she was hot. “Maybe I’m actually getting bet…Ow, fuck!”
“The pain of the black is never easily endured.” She spoke in a soft monotone voice, so practiced at her craft that light conversation in mid-clinic didn’t faze her at all. “This is the same black-rot that affects my brother’s arm, but our sister has found some way of slowing its growth inside of you without… You and my brother have at least a little something in common, it seems.”
“What in the hell could I have in common with him?” I was nothing like that racist asshole. I mean, sure, I had some stereotyped thoughts of alien races, but I didn’t think them to be lesser beings because of our differences.
“The pain is where the similarities begin and end. The pain you feel, that nearly bends you over at times, he feels and is beckoned by it constantly. You’re lucky in that we have experience dealing with it.” She grabbed me by the shoulders and twisted me once left, then to the right. My head just about popped off.
“Not very big on the patient comfort here, are you?”
She shrugged and reached into a fold in the black robes she wore and produced a bracelet that I recognized immediately. “That’s Life-Tech,” I said.
“Hold out your right arm,” she continued in her flat, expressionless tone.
I took a step back, but she grabbed me by the belt and held fast. “That tech is calibrated specifically for the Levani genome! I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, I think. But I know you don’t have the technical ability to calibrate that. It could shut down my internal organs and cause death in seconds.”
“My brother would say that maybe it’s not as complicated as all of that. Maybe, it’s just a simple collar, made by simple minds for the simple purpose of controlling a population. He would also say that we have ways you could never comprehend. Maybe, you should stop whinging and put this on before you’re beyond our help. You’re a dead man with few options, remember?”
“I’m not letting you put that on me.”
“You have Yari’s magic infused into your cells. It isn’t simply a static spell, it’s reactive. It is in constant flux to ward off the rot. I suspect there is enough of Yari inside you to prevent any unfortunate side effects from the lack of calibration. Whatever has happened to you past the point of cheating death, make no mistake that her strength is part of you, now. It is protecting you every second of every day. That’s exactly why you have more to be thankful for than you know. Now, put this on and we’ll see if it slows the progress of the rot enough for me to help you.”
“Enough for your brother to talk to me and get what he wants, you mean. You’re only interested in my well-being to get Yari to choose Tawa over us. You can tell your—”
She had slipped my belt free and yanked down my pants before I could protest. Moaning as she plunged my already half-hard cock into her mouth, she looked up and said, “Gine goa ginginged um oh gang u gink.”
“Huh?”
She pulled back, wiping the spit from her thin red lips. “Sorry, I said, I’m more interested in you than you think.” She pushed me back and I landed on the creaky old bed with a thud. I thought it would have hurt more, but I was suddenly stronger against the pain. I reached down, letting her green hair run through my fingers. I slid my other hand around the back of her head and found the Life-Tech wrapped snugly around my left wrist.
We were frozen in place with her lips mere inches from my cock. “Surprised?” she asked in her unchanging voice. “It’s quite well-designed. You never feel a thing. Can’t say the same for this,” and she flicked my swollen head, ripped my pants all the way off and threw them in a heap in the corner.
I didn’t know how long I had to live, but I made the decision then and there that when faced with death, I would fuck anyone to avoid dying with a dry dick and swollen nuts. This woman, this sultry vixen, led us here, ambushed us, and since meeting Tawa Yen, I was convinced wouldn’t mind us dying here. I was never good at first impressions, and hers was a pretty shit one, but she was making at least one part of me rethink everything.
I let go of her head and allowed her hands to slide up my thighs for a proper introduction.
12
My mortality, thoughts of Yari and the others…all of it melted away and slid down the throbbing veiny shaft that pumped rhythmically in and out of Lady Yen’s slippery lips. She started slowly, going as deep as her throat would allow. The pudgy end of my dick flattened against her esophageal curve and ran back across her cupped tongue. Her teeth close to scraping clean the euphoria and replacing it with disappointment, only to be thrust back deep into her warm and muffled caress.
She tilted her head sideways and her cheeks collapsed inward and the assault on her digestive entryway ended. A three-sided wave of two
smooth inner cheeks and one thick wrap of meat left no millimeter untouched, except for the top. It ran back and forth across her ribbed upper cleft.
I thought about how the mouth anatomy of the Pusani was so different from the Levani. The positives, the negatives, but I didn’t get to reach a decision on which I’d preferred most.
She pushed me back, the creak of the bed leaking through the floorboards below. She perched on the edge of the mattress and the creaking stopped, the springs well past their maximum stress capacity.
“Lay back,” she whispered to me, placing a hand on my chest and nudging me softly. I did as I was bid, never letting her leave my sight. She jammed one hand onto the bed and swung a leg over my head, her inner thighs coming to rest on my chest.
Even with a beautiful woman on my cock, there was always at least the smallest possibility of randomly looking off to a feature in whatever room I was in and having a funny thought while enjoying the company of whoever was with me at the time. She reached back and flung the heavy black cloth of her dress up over the curve of her ass and took that small possibility completely away from me.
No panties, just a wet almond-shaped mass of smooth pink skin.
“I’ve given this to every man I’ve been with. The end will come quick. Are you ready?” Her breath poured over my wet rod that had already felt every part of her mouth. Unless she started gnawing on it, I had no idea what she could do to make it any better. It already performed above and beyond any human-administered session.
She was inches from my cock and my face at the same time, double-vented heat pouring over me. I leaned forward to confirm what I thought she would taste like, but an iron grip on my cock stopped me.
“Don’t touch,” she said and released her grip a finger at a time, covering the empty real estate with her lips as she went. When I felt the back of her throat begin to cave against my flattened dick head, she drew a long, deep breath, and did something to reinvent the blowjob all together.
Her fingers clawed into my thighs and she began to vibrate rapidly, like a back-massage chair on max power. I peeked around and saw a blur of green as she wood-peckered down on me. The speed didn’t decrease the sensation, it enhanced it. Instead of the rub of my cock along the ribbed roof of her mouth and slick tongue, I felt the split of her lips around the rim and the hard push against the back of her throat at the exact same time.
The perfect head.
My toes curled up to fight off the first need to cum. She seemed focused on the task at hand, so I thought, fuck it. My hand embarked on a test of the waters and slid up one of her legs. I watched my thumb peak around her soft thigh and drag up to the point of no return where her thick, wide ass began. Milky white skin curved in all around a pert bulging pucker of forbidden pleasure. A leak glistened just below that, wetting a slowly flowering bulb covering a yet-unknown depth and width of ecstasy. All the heat and rose-tinged scent was inches from my face, but she kept it off the playing field.
I wasn’t one to lay back and be told what to do. She had said the words, but her body betrayed her. I could see how wet she was, how the pink folds began to loosen and pulse under the thrust of my cock across the length of her tongue. How my hand inched closer to dip into the spring that would release her from the unnecessary stresses of the game she played with me.
Then, I finally understood. She was only pretending at sex. Going through the motions of a role she was used to for the pleasure of bored and uninterested Levani lovers. Lovers whose ideas of sexual fantasy likely climaxed with a woman choking off the societal demands of controlling everything, if only for a brief moment. I imagined she would roll over and thank them while they dressed and walked out of the room. How she must sit ignored for days or weeks on end, surrounded by dry-mouthed rule makers and rule followers. It was no wonder she flew the way she did. Fast and free and far away from it all.
Whether I was right or wrong, my mind was made up. This woman needed a man to grind her down into the bed until she couldn’t move without her body shaking on the verge of a touchless orgasm.
My turn.
I slid my middle finger into Lady Yen’s bulbous fleshy tufts and felt the welcoming edges of her unbreeched hole. Her hand left my thigh, rushing down its path to rend my cock of its blood supply when my machine-beaten middle finger reached a swollen and beautifully light blue nodule perched at the head of my stage for the evening. My finger slid up and pushed in on the unhappy little sensory-ridden nub, cerulean skin squashing against the hesitant push of her hips. The hand that was meant to stop me was instead thrust into the bedding in defeat.
I had played with it for only a few seconds when her mouth came off my cock, heavy breath tinged with a small cracking whisper of pleasure. “You shouldn’t.” She had more words, but they had caught in her throat. She tried to cough them out.
With my fingertips, I spread the slit wide and skimmed my middle digit back and forth across her strangely-colored clit. Her other hand grabbed mine, and I stopped. Unlike the absolute demand from before, out came a strong suggestion. She was breaking free.
“Stop. If you keep going, it will fall off,” she said.
“What will?” I flicked my finger once over her swollen weak point.
“That! It’ll fall off if you keep touching it.”
“Haha. Who told you that?”
“I’ve just heard, okay?”
“From who?”
“Fuck, it’s not important from who. I don’t care if you don’t believe me. I’m just afraid of what will happen.”
I let her gently pull my hand away. She said some more words to me, but her undulating taint was speaking my language.
Body language.
“Welcome to life,” I said. “I think it’s time you stopped fearing it.”
It was in my mouth the millisecond the “t” sound left me. I wrapped my lips around her clit, made an airtight seal, and gave one good suck. The naughty little bean and the skin around it lifted and filled my cupped tongue. My whole mouth filled with her and the pressure I made let me pulse it all with ease. The slick blue nerve ending rose and fell, swollen for the first time with real purpose.
She let go of my hands and moaned into my thigh, spit drooling out of her mouth the longer I went. She managed to find her way to my cock after a minute and began humming her gratitude into it. Her fast-twitch mouth moves were gone, just a slow pull and jive while the rhythmic pushing out and caving back in of her engorged pussy streamed all over my face.
I thought she was properly warmed up, so I shifted gears a little. I pulled back farther, got the tip of my tongue on her clit and flicked the fuck out it while sucking as hard as I could. The surface on the back of my tongue began to bulge and become misshapen under the pressure.
Resting the back of my palm under my chin, I slipped one finger through the quivering opening of her meaty center. She tensed and arched her back, nearly coming up off the bed. I withdrew only for a moment, to turn my hand over. She looked at me then, from chin to exposed cleavage, wet with saliva and blushing beet-red.
“If you don’t stop, I’ll lose control. I don’t think you’ll like me when I do.”
I winked and slipped two fingers in, curled them down hard against her pelvic frontage and clenched my hand. The slight bulge and ribs of a G-spot appeared to be universal, even among alien species.
Her back arched enough to break as she ripped her dress off, splitting it down the middle and throwing it on the dusty floor. I saw the glint of elongated nails, hooked and black, jam into the bedding. The ripping and tearing ate away at the old cloth as she spread her legs, smashing her wet slit down onto my face.
I had to angle out of the way to get one nostril open for air. She moaned, and her voice was no longer smooth but choked, like a coarse and dry rasp. With every exhale, a twittering shriek came out of her. Two black feathery bumps split through glowing green patches on her shoulder blades.
She jumped off my face, briefly floated in mid-air, wings n
early the width of the room, and came down, her taloned feet resting on the blemished wood flooring. Half bird, half pale-skinned goddess, her emerald locks covered her nipples but left everything else bare. She flexed her two meter wide wingspan once more then tucked it behind her.
“Why did you stop?” I asked, my cock still at full extension, glistening in the slowly-dancing firelight the candles provided.
Her shaky hands rested on the window sill.
“Only my brother has seen me like this. I asked for power and he was gracious enough to slowly work on me for over five years. I felt stronger each time we danced through the rituals. At first, the change into a bird and soaring through the skies, free of our broken island world, it was the happiest I have ever been. I always envied you humans for your flying machines.”
I propped myself up on my elbows. “So, why have you stopped mid-change? I can handle it if you’re a bird. I’ve already seen the change. I’m okay with it. Really.”
She looked at me with eyes that could seed the shade of sorrow into the sun. “I’m a Flit when needed, and a woman when needed. But now, I am never really one or the other, I am always both. He said I would stay beautiful, but my hair lost its silvery glow and slowly matched the magical fire burning inside of me. When I’m not focused on controlling my powers, I am this, a monster. The older I get, it becomes more and more difficult to stay either one or the other. They are both so beautiful, but I… Anyway, you weren’t supposed to see me like this. If he finds out it’s gone this far—”
“I have no love for him, Lady Yen. But I could have it for you.” There was something intrinsically special about every age a woman wears. For Yari, it was her innocence and the mystery of the gift that she had never given anyone. With B, the weird feeling some get when they see their cousin naked for the first time and can’t look away. And Pusani, well, it was like you tamed an ageless dragon or it ate your dick off. But Lady Yen, she was used in her youth, and now had nothing but a powerful parlor trick with the growing scars to show for it. A life of never really knowing the gentle touch of a firm lover.