DRIVER MACH 1

by ÆGEON DAVIS

  My eyes lit up realizing what they had meant. Trixie One held my gaze while Trixie Two began rubbing my thigh. I stepped back, unsure what to think. I was torn between two warring thoughts at once; getting them upgraded, and having wondrous sex with both of them at the same time.

  Spectra rose from her seat, quiet and ever stoic as she walked out of the garage pit door, “Well, it’s getting late.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The Trixies were beautiful, full of youth and were more enticing than I could shake a stick at. And it was my stick they wanted to shake.

  I then eyed the big-framed Mechanica, whose expression could have rivaled an enticed cuckquean, ready to watch.

  “So, let me get this straight.” I said. “You want to have sex to transfer your Total XP?”

  “Precisely,” Trixie One said. “We swap fluids, transfer, and unlock.”

  “Boom. Boom. Boom,” Trixie Two added.

  “Sweetie, remember we all want to win more than anything. Plus, you’re Team Captain now. Have a little fun,” Mechanica said, rearranging four of her six wheels under her and rolling out of the garage.

  I was white as a ghost when I heard the door shut. Trixie Two was already making her way up to my mouth while Trixie One pulled onto my back to a better position me like I was a plaything. My nether regions were growing by the second from their caressing and brown hair falling over me. The smells of vanilla and the touch of sweet dew filled my nose.

  I felt a soft wet kiss from Trixie Two that turned explosive. I touched her smooth face and let my hand fall down to her panelling. I was thrown off by feeling plastic, but the pieces morphed and conformed to softer material. I looked down and saw a lace and satin.

  “We can change to whatever you like,” the Trixies said.

  Their powdery soft skin astonished me, and I began kissing her again. I lost my mind in all the ways they touched me. Feeling their hands rub all over my body was enthralling. Trixie One climbed on top of me. Her pert breasts hung from her chassis. I reached her small waist and ran my palms down the lace, plunging my fingers just under her panty line.

  “We have been wanting to do this ever since we met you,” Trixie One declared, now grabbing Trixie Two’s arms. Their bodies conjoined, merging and un-merging. They were one and the same. “Now, hand over that Total XP,” they demanded.

  I flood with all kinds of joy and fantasized about their very open culture. I then responded, “Man, I gotta’ visit your planet.”

  The next morning, I cradled Trixie One and Two in my arms. The two soft alien bodies were hardening back up while we panted in exhaustion on my cot from having sex a second time. Flashbacks of the sexual positions we discovered coursed through my mind like it was a Super Bowl replay. Trixie One, then Trixie Two. Rinse and repeat, then each of them swallowing me with their mouths. The experience was incredible.

  And while I laid there I contemplated the Trixies as a whole and why they were helping Spectra win when it would not earn them their freedom.

  “Tell me, why do you not race for yourselves?”

  “We are bound here because of our brother’s debt to Corvus,” Trixie One explained.

  Trixie Two continued, “Corvus said he would let our brother live in the Scabian Valley if we cooperate and help Pit 10.”

  And there was the asshole Corvus creeping back in the picture. It was looking like he had his hands in multiple affairs, and not just racing ones.

  Trixie One rolled from my arms and began fingering the air in front of her like she was scrolling through a menu. With a final flick of her wrist, she smirked and then shot me a smile. By this time, I figured out she was thumbing through her profile.

  “I see the new ability,” Trixie One said, brushing more swipes into the air.

  “Did the transfer work?”

  “Oh my god it did.” Trixie One moaned and leaned over for a kiss. “You were amazing.”

  “We would very much like to maintain the exchanging of genetic information,” Trixie Two said.

  “Hey, anything for the team,” I said, relaxing my hands behind my head.

  How they told me they wanted to continue having sex with me came off robotic and almost insensitive. Comparing how I felt right now, and how I treated relationships back home differed very much from back home on Earth. I usual reserved love making for a single significant other. But alas, I needed to remember these women were aliens from another culture and not accustom to my values.

  “I can’t wait to tell the girls about you,” they said.

  “Wait, the girls?”

  “Yeah, Mechanica thinks you’re cute. Spectra, though… well, she’s undecided.”

  “Undecided?” I asked, almost offended as if someone had called me a scruffy nerd herder.

  “That’s right,” Trixie One said, snuggling up closer to me. “The Team Captain is supposed to be responsible for building up group morale, strengthening our weaknesses, and curbing our vulnerabilities. It can be very hard at first coming here, as you can imagine. Being taken from your world can do a number on you. The Team Captain looks out for their own. That’s why they are the only ones able to unlock a Special Ability.”

  “Is that why Corvus is such a dick?”

  “Corvus does not understand what a lady wants. He’s much too full of himself,” Trixie Two said.

  “Right, and he’s a fucking Twinkie truck,” I announced, sitting up and sliding out from the two love maidens. I wasn’t sure how to feel about being the new Team Captain title and I’d be damned if I would let these ladies deal with that Corvus asshole any longer.

  I put back on my jumpsuit and grabbed my helmet. I read the stats.

  My LIVE XP gauges were flat on zero since I wasn’t active anymore. The Trixies had received my Total XP of twelve points bumping hers to thirty points and leaving me with zero, but I was at three for some reason.

  Lorean Michaels5

  Trixie Penny-Farthing One/Two6

  Was this from the performing a sexual act?

  “Wait, so you can build LIVE XP from sex?” I asked, scrolling thought the additional points.

  “Yes, anything you do here builds your LIVE XP levels, silly. That is why they rise and fall in action,” Trixie One said. “However, with sex, the act must be consensual, though.”

  “And not with yourself,” Trixie Two said, looking at her other self.

  The Trixies rolled out of bed. As each one stepped out from the covers, I watched their strange and sexy anatomy. Paneling from around their body rearranged and moved, clothing their supple and pert bodies. It was a stunning sight to see how the soft skin melded into boxier textures, yet lost no feminine qualities. Finally, each of them lifted their medium length brown hair in a final gesture as their usual bodily forms came to fruition.

  “Now that I unlocked your Bridger Ability, we will need Mechanica’s help to get this working with the resources we have,” I said, opening her profile up.

  I grabbed her Total XP of thirty points in a handful and threw them into her Primary Skills. For every 5 Total XP you funnel into the Primary Skills gets you one level up. The STUNT Level gauge climbed to level ten and cycled back to one. Her Bridger Ability then became unitalicized and bracketed for use.

  “Great, so we got your Special Ability bracketed, but why did your beginning STUNT reset?” I asked.

  “As we cycle back, we have to climb back up to ten to unlock additional abilities,” Trixie One said.

  Also, and even more intriguing, her Special Ability added to another to her roster list: MagLev Disks which was italicized. If she wanted to get that one bracketed she would have to climb the STUNT Level another cycle.

  Trixie Penny-Farthing One/Two7

  “Sweet,” I said, admiring Trixies’ next achievement.

  10

  The Pit Lane

  It took a few times to get carbon fibers weaved together and bundled. Luckily, a few days before the first leg of race Mechanica constructed an apparatus that meshed with the Tri
xies’ shell interface. This would allow them to each plant deep stakes into ground just before they hit the jump and tether across, creating a belted track for Spectra to careen over.

  There was one catch, though. While the Trixies were on the next cycle of their STUNT Level in their Primary Skills, they were still too slow in MACH Level to make it across the valley. Therefore, we remedied that problem with the use of a rider to help launch them with more momentum. That said rider would backflip the joined twins like a freestyle motocross—furthering across the valley—only to be hooked by my neck brace with Mechanica’s tow cable from the cliffside. While this all sounded it would work in theory. Effectively, there was one ideal factor I was forgetting.

  Who the hell was going to be the rider?

  “Lorean, you are the only one that can make this happen,” Spectra said, seeming disgruntled.

  My brain was still slush as I tried to accept that I was the sole one able to ride the Trixies and backflip them in midair. I mean, the Wall of Death was peanuts compared to this. And speaking of peanuts, this all felt like Operation: Elephant Drop. And I hated that frigging’ movie!

  I paced back and forth in Pit 10. Each of the girls were eyeing me, studying my response. If Spectra didn’t qualify, then we couldn’t advance to the next race and these girls would never get their freedom.

  “Yeah, sure I am,” I said, cinching down the velcro cuffs of my suit. I couldn’t tell if Spectra was being genuine or shrouded by veil of winning. I could think of a hundred things that could go wrong. Sure, I wanted to be a stunt driver for Hollywood, but this coming feat did not compare to the loads of safety precautions each Hollywood production took on Earth. Now, it was just me, the Trixies, and Mechanica’s tow cable, which I hoped was a strong as her comforting demeanor.

  We headed out to the barrier separating the Garage Pits and the straightaway. I could see the nine other Pit teams readying themselves for the first leg of the competition.

  All the squads were exotic women in every alien vehicle form I could imagine. From hovercrafts to jet propelled uni-wheeled gyro bikes, hundreds of scant alien creatures worked tirelessly preparing each craft. While tiny drones hovered around all of us, they captured footage of us getting ready behind-the-scenes for the onlooking galaxy to watch.

  A tall, dark alien driver sauntered her way out of her garage. Her hair was lightning white and fell over muted purple skin. Her presence was almost mesmerizing as I noticed a tinge of glow emanating from her. It was like watching a barely clad stripper hypnotically dance in an ultra-violet light. Even the markings on her face were a bio-luminescence and outlined a glowing tattoo marking that read ‘Pit 1.’

  She walked with a switch in her hips that could tame a lion. Extending one hand out, she fell onto it as natural as a gymnast and propelled herself into a cartwheel. Her legs shifted and her abdomen and head formed into an armored three-wheeled hybrid car/motorcycle. With two wheels in front and one in the back, she expressed a design that reminded me of those two-seater Polaris Slingshot vehicles. Except this one was decked out in large artillery cannons and sub-machine guns jutting from the grill.

  As she began her systems check, her dash lit up. An alien from her team insert a Fuel Gel into her tank and she yelled out, “Driver: Pit 1.”

  A thunderous roar echoed down as each Driver sounded off their respective positions. They each inserted a fuel gel into their tanks.

  I noticed the first three Drivers were donned in heavy wrought-iron armor. Driver: Pit 2 in particular was a curious beast as she walked on her hands and used her feet to steer a uni-wheeled gyro bike. The grooved teeth on each link, that made up the wheel, were like small shovels in the form of paddles. Something like dune buggies would have on their tires from back home. Surrounded by a dozen gas-guzzling alien dogs that could rival the ravenous Cujo on their worst day, she yelled her number out and the dogs snarled a spine-rattling bark.

  The rolling chants and insertion of Fuel Gel continued with each pit. Spectra balled her fists and held it high the air, “Driver: Pit 10.”

  “Driver: Pit 10,” I cheered a second too late. My voice was the only thing you could hear for a mile.

  Mechanica and the Trixies were tight lipped looking at Spectra. She was not shy about showing me her disappointment. “That’s only for the Driver to call out, human.”

  I gritted my teeth in embarrassment, ducking my head low and slipping on my helmet to hide my blushing face. Then, I sauntered out to the straightaway to get a better look at the strange alien in the other pits. Each Pit outlined in my Visor interface and began to show respective attributes for each racer. While most were average around level five in their Primary Skills, the dark stranger that called herself Driver: Pit 1 grabbed my attention again.

  I focused on her Primary Skills were all in the high levels. I ogled her Special Abilities as every attribute took on a more creative aggressive profile as I counted them up.

  Asta Romani1

  She’s a beast of a three-wheeler.

  And what happened next blew my mind as I watched the brooding asshole called Corvus, walk from her opening Pit number. His chin was secured and encased in armor that connected to his exo-suit frame. Along his chest read Team Captain: Pit 1. How in the hell had he become Team Captain of the leading Pit?

  Corvus touched Asta as he shuffled by her and out to the straightaway where other racers were. He directed each team member with a hurried tendency prepping the crew for, what was sure to be an upcoming win. He turned his attention to me and started walking my way.

  Oh shit. My mind flooded with the different situations that could play out. I was sure he wanted revenge, but doubted he would try anything before the race. At least I hoped he wouldn’t.

  I felt two hands on my shoulders and turned around to see Mechanica, full of grace. She looked over my shoulder to Corvus and frowned. “We got ya’ back, honey.”

  Any trace of anger on Corvus’s experience were absent, along with his exposed so-called ‘testicles.’ It looked like he had learned his lesson of letting those things flail about, but what I could not grasp was why he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Well, well,” Corvus said, stepping up to us. He crossed his arms and held his chin high as if he was proud to showcase it protected under that armored strap. “Look at the sucker-punching Team Captain of Pit 10.”

  “And I see your nut sack of a chin is all healed up,” I joked, hoping Mechanica would get a laugh.

  She was silent and stared her old Team Captain dead in his slit reptilian eye. Then she inspected his newly acquired Pit attire while rolling around him. As she gained an eyeful of him, she shook her head in disappointment and said, “Looks like someone won a big jackpot at da’ Grand Casino, honey.”

  “Aye,” Corvus beamed with joy. “You might say I ‘cashed’ in a debt.”

  “Well, that’s the only way a snake-like scoundrel like you could advance, eh?” she said.

  His eyes did not waver from hers. I expected from him to erupt in rage, but he simply smiled and puffed out his chest like he was ready for a bombardment of flash photography. Spectra and the Trixies stood behind us, ready for the fight.

  “I’m gonna’ be real with you, chums,” he grunted. “I had to cash in a big debt this week. A Scabian debt.”

  The Trixies broke past Spectra. I could see the fear in their eyes, “Do not speak of our brother. We had an agreement!”

  The reptilian asshole just smiled and extended his hands into the air. “Promoting the human as Team Captain means no more protection by me. But don’t you worry, Trixies. He paid it quick.”

  “What do you mean he ‘paid it quick?’” Mechanica asked.

  Corvus ran his scaly index finger across his throat in a slitting motion.

  “You fucking bastard,” Trixie One and Two screamed.

  Mechanica rolled back and then thrusted her fist into his gut. Her plastic-shelled hand broke against his wrought-iron armor. Spectra shifted her wheel from he
r shoulder to her palm in a seamless move and struck Corvus on his protected chin. He just laughed in response.

  “So, that’s the race it’s gonna’ be,” he barked.

  The three-wheeled motorbike champion rolled up behind him and transformed into her startling alien beauty form. She pulled on Corvus’s thick iron collar, forcing him to her level. She was smaller than him, but had a fire in her eyes that could burn down a forest.

  “Corvus the CarTsar wanted me to let you race my first upcoming leg,” she chastised him. “If you still want this, I suggest you respect the Drivers… even the weakest ones.”

  The brooding reptile hissed from the embarrassment, “Sorry, Asta. Please forgive me. I will show I can win. My Fortunate Telekinetic Acts has been unlocked.”

  My Visor confirmed his recent stats. Shit. And he had twenty Total XP pooled up, waiting to be allocated. What was he expecting to use them for?

  Corvus Cauldron2

  I tended to Trixie One and Two, helping them back to their feet. They wiped their eyes from the tears and thick greasy eyeliner they wore. Asta pushed Corvus back to his respective Pit and then gave a subtle nod, unsure what to say.

  “Let me tell you something, mate. Just try to pull that sucker punch shit during the race,” Corvus said, pointing his index at me like it was a knife. “I’ll shove my head so far up your ass you’re gonna’ taste the sweat on my chin.”

  The threat was itself was much less impactful than the visual. However, there was only one thing to do now: Help the Trixies get revenge on this motherfucker.

  11

  The Great Nurdle Reef

  The full day was upon us now, shining down through the large purple-leafed trees that seemed to thrive on the garbage reef. I was handed hundreds of feet of braided carbon fiber rope to which I hung around my neck and armpit. We sat in the shade underbrush waiting for the race to start. The whole situation was a mess now. Trixie One and Two held each other while Mechanica tried to express what condolences she could give.