by Polly Frost
“Zac,” I say softly. “I need your help.”
His eyes open. They are without surprise. “Time was when you woulda joined in,” he says.
“Times change,” I say.
“You gotta give me a minute here,” he says. He puts his hands, one on each girl’s head. His lips purse and he licks them. I can see his abdomen getting tense, and then he’s coming. One of the girls is tugging at his balls, just the way I used to. I guess he’s taught her well.
The girls pass his come back and forth between their mouths, then let it dribble onto their silicone-inflated breasts, rubbing it in like skin cream.
“Oh, that’s nice,” says Zac appreciatively. “That’s very, very nice. I see two girls with long futures before them at my club.”
He snaps his fingers at them. I move aside and they totter past me.
“C’mon, baby,” I plead. “Time is of the essence. Internal Affairs is after me. You gotta help me get out of town.”
“I don’t help alien-fuckers,” he says.
His voice is mild, almost pitying, and it shocks me more than it would if he were angry. It’s like he’s…moved on.
“I could have done Serzan myself,” he says. “I coulda fucked you over like you fucked me over. I coulda thrown money away, I coulda screwed up our future. But I never did. Even here at the club I’ve run a clean scene. Sure, I’ve had to pander to the LCD to keep business alive after you blew our savings. But the one thing I never did was let Serzan in.”
“Once upon a time you told me I was the best,” I protest.
“Once upon a time we were in love.”
I try to kiss him, but he won’t have it.
“I can smell the Serzan on you,” he sneers.
“That’s just the scent of me wanting you,” I wheedle.
“Yeah?” he says. “So let’s see how wet you are!”
I’m desperate to win him over. I kiss and rub against him. It doesn’t do anything for me, of course. So I think instead about the Serzan to arouse my alien-addicted body.
He’s got his hands in my panties.
But I’m not feeling it for Zac. I wish I could still get turned on by humans, but I can’t.
Zac can sense it, and withdraws his hand.
“How do you think it makes a man feel to know his girl prefers aliens to him?” he says. “You don’t even have enough respect for me to clean the alien slime off your face. You’re on your own now, sweetie. I wish you the best. Watch out: the I.A. guys are all over the place. Use the freight entry again.”
I don’t have many options left.
Down through the city to where Marni lives. It’s the dinner hour and I can see generations of Cubans in the windows, crowded around tables, sharing their lives.
Small houses, good families. Tears are in my eyes as I see the life she leads. Or am I stressing from my need to have a Serzan fix?
I stumble up her steps, smashing the head of a child’s doll, and ring Marni’s doorbell.
She opens the door, but it’s still chained.
“Rachel,” she says, “You’re not comin’ in.”
“It could have been you that night—”
Her face softens. She knows what I’m saying is true.
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll come outside with you. But I’m not letting a Serzan addict inside my house.”
I hear her husband’s voice. “Who is it?” he asks.
“Nobody,” Marni responds.
She shuts the door behind us.
“How’s your kids?” I ask.
“Good. Amy’s twelve, Jessica’s seven,” Marni says, then adds, “I’m gonna wipe out the Serzan before they can get them.”
“That’s good,” I say.
“Look,” Marni says, “I got a few bucks I can give you.”
“I need your help,” I say.
“I have two beautiful children…I can’t risk getting involved with you,” Marni says, seeing the doll’s head I’ve crushed, picking it up, waving it in my face. “You don’t have any sense these days—they say even the dealers are fed up with you.”
“Time was I looked the other way when you were playing both sides of the street,” I say.
She glares at me, and whispers, “You and I both know that we have to do our job. We don’t have any time for the guys upstairs who sit in their offices and dictate what we do. So you and I made it with a few criminals to get information—”
“Don’t make your love of fucking criminals out to be altruistic,” I say. “How about the time I watched you get serviced by one of Kyle’s dealers? You tied him up in a chair and made him eat you out. He did a real fine job of it, judging from the way you came.”
She pushes me away from her door, grabs my hair, and puts her face in mine.
“Listen to me with what’s left of your Serzan-addled brain. We kept Miami clean together, and that’s all that counts.”
“I don’t think you were just doing your job. I think you liked the feeling of a criminal’s tongue on your cunt, and I think you liked him knowing that you could blow him away at any moment.”
She yanks my hair.
“I don’t do it with Serzan,” she says.
“Not yet,” I say, fighting her off. “But you will. You’ll taste them eventually.”
“Go to alien Hell!” she says, letting go of me. She steps back inside her little stucco house.
I pound on her front door and yell, “You won’t be able to resist! And it will be the best sex you’ll ever have! I know you haven’t come with your husband for years—”
I drive towards the edge of the cordon, but stop a block away from the security post. I see the protestors and religious zealots crowded outside the gates holding placards that say: “Stop the Serzan Sex Slave Trafficking” and “Miami Is the Devil’s Disneyland.”
Even if I can get through security, what’s the use? How am I going to exist in the Serzan-free world?
Midnight.
My body aches with raw desire. It’s blinding my thought processes.
“Escape, Rachel,” I mutter, trying to remind myself of my first priority.
Kyle. Yeah, that’s it. Gotta get to him.
I see cop cars racing down a street. Are they looking for me? I head towards the beach where Kyle’s mansion is. I know it’s my last chance.
The number-one Serzan dealer in Miami lives on the water behind top security. His guards stop me at his gates. They buzz him.
“I told you never to show your face here again,” Kyle’s assured voice says over the intercom.
“I did you a favor,” I say. “Now do me one.”
There’s a pause, then the gates open, and the guard waves me through.
The magnificent entrance to his villa is lit up…there are expensive cars all around…. So Kyle is having one of his famous Serzan orgies. My tongue licks my lips. He helicopters VIPs in from around the world so they can indulge.
I find him alone in his living room. Kyle is handsomer than the last time I saw him. Nothing like raking in billions from alien sex trafficking to make a man look good. His ear sports a new diamond stud, and he’s tan and fit. Time was he wanted me. I didn’t resist. And we had a deal about the street that benefited the city.
But now he looks at me with contempt. “Put me on the planet where the Serzan come from,” I beg. “Let me be at peace.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Kyle says.
“But I killed your rival that night. And that’s when I got turned out. You can put me anywhere in space you want….”
He finishes my sentence for me. “As long as there’s Serzan, right?” He walks over to an ornate dark wood desk, takes a cigar from a holder, clips off the end of it, lights it up. “We can’t afford to take chances with losers like you,” he says. “Not with your new tough police chief.”
“C’mon, man,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I do appreciate that you got rid of the competition,” he says. “So there’s something I’m
going to do for you.”
He leads me outside his mansion. We pass armies of bodyguards. Purple and red bougainvillea trail off the walls. There’s an expanse of grass. In the ocean-scented air I sense the excitement.
There it is. In the rainbow lights of Kyle’s enormous pool. There are dozens of Serzan in it. In the water men and women are having sex with the aliens. Poolside, other humans wait for their turn.
The people are some of Miami’s most beautiful.
Why not give human sex one last try?
I walk up to a twentysomething woman. I recognize her straight features and voluptuous body from the fashion magazines: she’s a famous model. Her long legs, her beautiful breasts, her taut stomach with a ruby belly jewel. She’s wearing only a black thong, her neck and waist adorned with chains.
We approach each other doing a slow dance. It’s something we both knew in our past lives, that seductive move you make towards another woman, that promise you give her with your body’s every move that you know how to fuck another woman.
When we are close I put my hands behind her, pull her into a kiss. We are entwined, clawing at each other. Is it going to work? I look up and see Kyle, smoking his cigar, watching me.
I take her to a chaise longue, put her beneath me. Now she pushes me down and starts to undo my cop uniform.
“I always wanted to fuck you, Rachel,” she says. “I wanted to do it with the best cop in Miami.”
Accent on past tense. Wanted. Not “want.” She can’t help it, and neither can I.
Because I would have wanted her at one time. And I see in her eyes the confused look of someone who would also have once wanted me. But we both know it’s not gonna work between us now.
I lead her up off the chaise. She takes off the rest of my clothes. Together we hold hands and jump into the pool.
But then I see Kyle running down the lawn.
“Get out!” he says to me. “They’re on their way.”
“Oh no, man, I need this,” I say.
But his guards have their guns trained on me.
“Just let me have one for the road,” I moan.
Kyle thinks for a moment, then nods. I gather up a Serzan, my clothes, and head off into the moonless night.
I stand on a bridge over the freeway. I clutch both my Extraterrestrial Exploder 379 and one of the Serzan I took from Kyle’s place.
I look out at the early morning lights of my beloved Miami.
I let myself be caressed by the beast. I know I should jump and take the alien with me, but it feels too good to die just yet.
Images flash through my mind as the tentacles wind their way through my pleasure zones: I see myself back when…winning Junior Miss…the day I graduated from cop school…the day I first met Zac…my first heroin bust…getting my first medal. This has been my city since I was born.
But now it’s no longer Miami. It’s Serzan City.
The pavement below calls me.
Then blinding lights hit me in the eyes. There’s a rustle of uniforms. The sound of metal clamping.
“Let me go!” I scream.
I am thrown into a cop car.
I am being pushed through the corridors of headquarters.
All eyes are down. Doors slam. No one will look at me.
“The new boss wants to see you,” I am told.
I walk towards my doom. And then I see Alexi, the Serzan smuggler, striding cockily out of the chief ’s office. He gives me a wink as he strides by.
Now I am roughly pushed into an office. They leave me there. I’m alone with the chief, who sits in a chair with his back to me.
I prepare for my fate, inhaling deeply. I don’t know which is worse: that I have failed in my mission to wipe out the Serzan sex aliens—or that I will go to jail and never again taste the cosmic heaven the aliens offer.
The chair swivels around.
I gasp—it’s a giant Serzan. The largest, most tentacled, most delicious looking one I’ve ever seen.
I feel sick with illicit desire.
“Don’t think you’ll be stamping us out,” the police chief says, in a deep, gravelly, metallic voice.
Can this be a Serzan talking to me?
“Yes,” it answers, my body thumping with every word it speaks. “We’ve evolved just as you have evolved in your relationship to us. You see—you’ve actually been working for me for the last six months.”
“And those guys out there?” I ask.
“They’re grateful for the job,” it says. “And those who’re still holding out—Marni, Robert—they won’t be holding out much longer. In fact, I think I’ll let you turn them out yourself.”
“But I thought you Serzan were being brought to earth against your will by humans,” I say. “Kyle…Alexi…”
“Those smugglers and dealers were just doing the dirty work for us Serzan so we could take over, Rachel.” Then it adds, “Don’t you recognize me?”
I shake my head.
The new chief waves some of its superlong and thick tentacles at me and I do recognize this Serzan as one that gave me infinite pleasure that night I was turned out.
“I have such good memories,” it says. “I’ve dreamt of you since.”
And now the chief of police, this ultimate Serzan, is reading my mind perfectly. It tears off my clothes, and slithers a tentacle around my stomach, my ankles, my neck, my arms. I stand in front of the window, manacled by the alien.
Tentacles plunge into me, first tenderly, then brutally.
For a moment I am utterly satisfied, completely at peace. I look over at the Serzan hoping it won’t lose energy after our fuck.
To my amazement, this giant Serzan looks stronger afterwards.
“I just get bigger and more powerful with every human fuck,” it says.
My satisfied feeling doesn’t last. My addiction returns, fiercer than ever. I must have more of the police chief. And I know I can never have enough.
The police chief waves a tentacle at me. He must have been hiding this one: it’s the longest and thickest of all. I can’t imagine how he could put it up me, but I’m desperate to give it a try.
The tentacle slides along the floor, teasing me by winding its way around my feet before sliding up me, soft like a giant tongue that wraps itself completely around my legs and as it approaches my cunt it turns hard. When it enters me I feel the rush.
As it pumps me, another tentacle slides onto my clit. I am beyond remorse for my Serzan addiction. Yet as I look outside the window I see Alexi load a Serzan crate into a truck. He roars off. I am coming, my mind is going…but I know the sight of him driving off with Serzan can’t be good for the human race.
“We’ve found a way through the cordon,” the police chief whispers. “Next place we’re going to is New York.”
Viagra Babies
I hear the Normal guys talk about her.
“Naomi is so fucking hot,” one says. “I’d like to bring her to the gym pool at night the way I do other girls.”
Another says, “I’d bone her, too. But I just don’t want to die.”
The Normals know what happens if they have sex with us.
“Yeah,” the first guy says. “She’d rip us apart. Viagra babies. I heard one of her kind tore off a man’s cock.”
I can see that Naomi is beautiful even though I don’t know what it would be like to feel horny for her.
Naomi and I are together here every day in the waiting room of the school nurse, Ms. Kohler. Like me, Naomi is a Viagra baby. We’re seniors, almost eighteen. We don’t have much longer to live.
Younger Viagras sit in the waiting room, too. We all keep our heads down. We do homework, read books, even if we’re not really reading. We don’t talk to one another. We don’t want to know one another. We’re waiting for our pills.
Normals are also in the waiting room with the usual Normal complaints: girls with cramps, guys with gym injuries.
Two long blue pills, one red-and-yellow capsule, a white hexagon,
three green caplets. If we aren’t punctual the school says they’ll notify the police.
Usually, Viagras report for medication at the beginning of lunch period. Today, things are backed up at the nurse’s station. The town’s benefactor, Sam Jason, made his annual visit, and he talked about the foundation he’s created to search for a cure for Viagra babies.
On the walls of the infirmary are posters that say:
“Do Not Have Sex With a Viagra Baby.”
“Touch a Viagra Baby’s Genitals…And You Will Die.”
I’ve never heard a Normal use the word “genitals.” Guys talk about cocks and pricks and cunts and pussies instead. In the locker room the Normal guys look at me.
“Hey, Granger,” Clayton would say. “Must be nice to have such a large dick. Too bad you can’t do anything with it.” I don’t answer. I never do.
Nurse Kohler tries to educate the Normals. She explains how people started freebasing Viagra twenty-five years ago and became sex addicts. It was apparently a high like no other. The taste for it raced around before word got out that it was a medical disaster.
Ms. Kohler shows the Normal kids anatomical drawings and explains how we children of these addicts were born sex-addicted and with supercharged genitals. That’s why we’ve always been kept on medication. Otherwise we’d be insatiable. And ever since we’ve been living out our sad legacy.
In the waiting room, the younger Viagras go in for their medication before us, one by one.
Naomi and I are alone. Keeping my eyes down, I watch her. I try to figure out why she seems different today. Her jeans skirt is short, her bare legs are wrapped around each other. Her long-sleeved T falls slightly off her shoulders. Her blond hair falls over her pale face.
“Still playing the Hidden Man, Granger?” It’s Naomi, talking to me. “Like that’s ever done you any good?”
I look at her and she smiles. When a Viagra smiles, they don’t really smile, they’re just trying to make peace. But Naomi’s smile is like sunlight breaking through rain.