by M. E. Thorne
Gnasher gave a slow, heady moan of pleasure as Marcella worked her girth into her pussy.
Marcella pressed herself into Gnasher’s chest, mashing their breasts together. Her stoic nature had completely evaporated as she started to fuck with abandon. She ground her hips hard, sending my girlfriend howling.
Bracing herself with one hand, Marcella paused for a moment, reached back, and spread her pussy lips. A musty, entrancing aroma seemed to float around her opening.
“Please,” her usually emotionless voice was full of wanton need, dripping with lust.
I didn’t need a further invitation. Grabbing her girlish hips, I ran my cock along her ass, slowly flicking her lips with the tip as I came down. She wriggled back and forth, which elicited further groans from Gnasher in turn.
Unable to restrain myself any longer, I lined up and slowly pushed into her pussy. It was a mind-blowing sensation. I could feel every centimeter of her sweet flesh clinging to me, wringing every bit of pleasure it could out of me.
I leaned across her back, and she twisted her head to the side so I could enjoy a kiss as well. Her lips were sweet, with a hint of mint as her tongue ran across my own. Gnasher whined, so Marcella and I took turns kissing her while the other caressed and played with her, working her into a heated ardor
The moist, sleekness of Marcella’s skin was a wonderful contrast to the fur that ran along Gnasher’s body. My hands slid along her sides, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples. She kissed me again as I played with her chest, encouraging my efforts.
It took us a few aborted tries to find the right rhythm, our first awkward attempts devolving into lusty giggles and more petting. Finally, feeling in tune, we worked up a true fervor, with Marcella thrusting into Gnasher while I attacked her simultaneously from behind.
I found Marcella responded positively when I caressed her antenna, running delicate fingertips along their length before flicking the tip. She shuddered and twitched at each stroke, her speed building as her breath became more labored. Gnasher joined me, each of us fondling the Panacea as she broke out in blissful, uninhibited cries.
The slug-woman became tighter and tighter as we fucked, her walls engorging even as I could tell her prick was swelling within Gnasher. My girlfriend thrashed and yelped with pleasure as we all came closer to climax.
With six hands, no one was left without an affectionate touch as our lovemaking reached a fever pitch. I had one hand wrapped around the base of Marcella’s antenna and the other gripping onto Gnasher’s ass when I felt the slug-woman cum. Her sex thrummed with ecstasy as she released her load deep in Gnasher’s pussy.
Marcella screamed and wrapped her arms around Gnasher’s neck as her orgasm crashed through her and flowed out of her cock.
That brought me over the edge. Like a blast of red-hot magma, I blew up like a volcano. All I could hear was Marcella’s surprised, but pleased, cry as my cum flooded her pussy and leaked out the sides. I could feel every drop of burning seed leaving my body as I finished.
My bones felt like jelly afterward. We landed in a heap, panting and weak, exhausted and spent by our efforts.
“That was amazing,” Gnasher finally said, leveraging herself out from the bottom of the pile so she could breathe.
Marcella had the forethought to fill a couple of bottles of water and place them nearby before we began. The cold waterfall water felt heavenly as it went down my scorched throat.
“That was very enjoyable,” Marcella contributed, after drinking two bottles. Her skin was damp with sweat and secretions, her antenna bobbed low across her brow.
“I’ll have to thank Spinny,” Gnasher smiled. “I’ve had my share of threesomes before, but that easily put them to shame.”
“That was my first,” I realized, rolling onto my back and laying an arm behind my head.
“Congratulations,” Gnasher rested across my chest, planting a kiss on my brow.
Marcella sat at the edge of our makeshift bed. As I watched, she spread her legs. Her dick looked as deflated as my own, dangling over her lips. She dipped a finger into her sodden pussy and came back with a smear of my cum.
“This requires further analysis,” she declared, before sticking it in her mouth.
“Fuck, if you do that, I might need a second round,” Gnasher said, echoing my thoughts at the erotic sight.
Marcella evidently did not feel our ardor. She ran her tongue over the sample a few times. “Very interesting.”
I felt a stab of dread. “Why do I feel scared when you say that?”
“If I did not have perfect control over my biology and reproductive cycles,” she said, “I likely would have become pregnant from this encounter.”
“Wait, what?" Gnasher and I said at once.
Marcella got up and used a spare blanket and a water bottle to tidy up, before putting her dress back on. “I’m detecting several novel compounds in your ejaculate, along with a sperm count several thousand times higher than normal. Additionally, while I cannot do genetic analysis, I am detecting several chemicals only found in the Panacea reproductive cycle.”
“What does that mean?” I suddenly felt very scared, like my own body was changing into that of a stranger.
“I’m not sure,” she said with a frown. “Panacea cannot reproduce with other chimerics. To produce a child we normally have to seek out another of our kin from a different colony and mate with them. The fact that you were able to produce sperm compatible with my ovum is fascinating.”
“I think I’m done fucking for now,” Gnasher declared, clearly worried as well. She gave me a reassuring hug before rising and cleaning up.
I sadly had to agree. “Let’s go talk to the others. Maybe Sabra will have a clue what’s happening to me.”
Chapter 13
“I have no idea what’s happening to you,” Sabra said.
We had relayed what had happened to the others. Gloria contributed a few things she noticed during our session the day before. I think the only person who blushed harder than me during our discussion was the Syndicate woman.
“I’m so glad you came on my chest and face,” Gloria solemnly said after we had finished talking.
“Same,” I agreed, somehow feeling even more embarrassed.
“This must be due to the tank he fell into, it’s changing him. It must have been part of their secret project,” Spinny added.
“We didn’t think they were nearly this far with their reproductive research,” Sabra speculated, clearly feeling more comfortable talking about things clinically. “If they were at the stage of limited production and experimentation, they were much further along that anyone previously guessed.”
“The fact that his sperm appears to be adaptive to his current mate is incredible,” Marcella said. “It indicates he can analyze who he is currently mating with and to match their genetic profile.”
“I think his dick changed shape too,” Gloria added.
We all stared at her.
“What?” She flapped her wings in a perturbed manner. “A Hatuibwari’s dick is different from a baseline human’s. They’re longer and taper along the length before flaring out at the tip. While we were fucking, I swear his dick felt like a Hatuibwari one. It even looked similar as he pulled out.”
“That would be even more incredible,” Sabra nodded, continuing to think along objective angles. “The scientific prowess of the corporations was truly amazing.”
“A Rosetta Stone Penis,” Gloria murmured.
I felt so mortified that I wanted to sink into the floor.
“There’s not much we can do until we get back to the Metrocomplex,” Sabra added, noticing my discomfort. “If Marcella is willing to provide some extra blankets, I recommend we rest for now. The elevator will take us much closer to our goal, but I suspect that we’ll have another hard day of travel tomorrow.”
Grateful for her suggestion, I helped Marcella gather supplies as we bedded down for the night.
Gnasher snored q
uietly next to me, while Spinny’s slow, steading breathing came from overhead. The three of us were tucked into one corner of the room. Gloria was hanging nearby, still hugging her bag to her chest. Sabra had opted to bed in the opposite corner.
Marcella had decided to go sleep amongst her siblings but promised she wouldn’t go back into full hibernation and that she would see us off in the morning.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the flat, stony ceiling. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I had nightmarish visions of my body betraying me, warping and mutating into some kind of monstrous, sex-starved thing.
Feeling bone-weary but no closer to actual sleep, I carefully made my way out of bed and into the main chamber. I saw Marcella’s dress, folded and carefully tucked atop a rock, but I could not identify which of the stalks was her. I wandered around a bit, pointlessly exploring and hoping to tire myself out.
There was a honeycomb of chambers, all cut along the same dimensions, giving me a feeling of deja-vu each time I entered a new room. The Panacea only used a few of them to hold supplies, the rest were either empty, or holding just a few heaps of ancient trash; food wrappers, water bottles, and paper scraps. Sorting through them yielded nothing of value.
Feeling no more likely to fall asleep after an hour, I ended up sitting at the rim of the waterfall, my legs dangling out in the abyss.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” inquired a voice.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw Sabra ducking out of the room where the others were still resting.
She picked a spot and took a seat. “How far down does it go?”
“No clue. The Delvers’ Guild doesn’t go down this deep. There’s no corporate loot down here, so it doesn’t make sense for us to expend resources on expeditions." I gazed up, “Maybe we should though? There’s a lot more down here than any of us ever dreamed of.”
We both sat in silence for a few minutes, either unsure of what to say or too tired to think of anything.
Finally, Sabra ventured, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Is everyone --” she stopped and thought about her words carefully, “so accommodating and open about their sexual relationships around here?”
I thought about that and chuckled. “A bit put off?”
“No, it’s just so different than what I’ve been exposed to in the Syndicate." She slumped a bit. “My contact with El Finito and it’s citizens up until now has been very limited, controlled. The only time I was free to observe people was when traveling between meetings. Embassy rules forbid fraternization with the locals.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. I ran a hand through my hair. “As for your question, I honestly don’t know how to answer.”
“Everyone is different. I know plenty of monogamous couples, poly couples, and a whole gamut of relationships that fall outside either definition. People can be gender fluid or gender neutral, gay, ace, bi, trans, straight, or something that defies strict definition. Sexuality isn’t just black and white, but a huge and varied gradient. At least, in my opinion.”
“As for our particular group?" I figured Sabra might feel a bit more comfortable if she knew the lay of the land. “Spinny is dating Gnasher, they’ve been going out for a few years. I only started my relationship with Gnasher a few months ago.”
“Are you -- with Spinny?” Sabra asked tentatively.
“Not sexually, no. She’s not interested in men, as far as I know,” I replied. “She’s more of a partner and friend. She’s a great mentor when it comes to relationship issues.”
“We only met Gloria a few days ago,” I continued. “We haven’t formalized anything yet, both Gnasher and I have slept with her separately. I guess we’ll all need to talk about our relationship further once we’re back home. I’m new to poly relationships, but I’ve been learning that communication and honesty are key.”
Sabra sat quietly, not speaking any further. Feeling awkward, I asked her, “What are things like in the Syndicate?”
“Different,” she said.
I let her mull that statement over a bit before she continued.
“In the Syndicate, everything is handled by the government,” she ran a hand over her leg, rubbing at the material of her suit. “Their primary goal is to establish relationships that lead to healthy, productive children.”
“That sounds really shitty.”
Sabra smiled wanly. “It’s a system I don’t think anyone is particularly happy with, but it’s seen as a necessity given our plummeting birth rate.”
“When you turn twenty, each Syndicate member goes through a battery of tests; personality, DNA, education, career ambition. They pick your life apart. Based on your results, they attempt to match you with someone of the opposite sex most likely to result in successful reproduction.”
I was horrified, thinking of such a soulless system. “What about people who aren’t interested in straight relationships, or relationships in general?”
She gave a helpless gesture. “The Syndicate offers a variety of reproductive options, including artificial insemination. They don’t require sex or intimacy, they only care about producing children.”
“I know many people who were matched up with partners they couldn’t stand, but they worked together to have children since they felt it was their obligation. More often than not, people will have their government-mandated partner, but continue with their chosen relationships.”
“That’s fucked up." I felt uneasy thinking about such a cruel, uncaring system. “What about people who can’t have children?”
Sabra flinched. “I had a friend at school. She was brilliant, smart, beautiful. A star athlete and a top-rated student. She was also my best friend, the person I felt closest to in the galaxy.”
She kicked her feet, not speaking for a while.
“When she turned sixteen she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and the doctors couldn’t save her ovaries." Sabra seemed haunted by the memory. “She was demoted to a second-class citizen, no better than a criminal, and shipped off to some distant planet as manual labor. I didn’t even get a chance to see her before she was shipped away, they took her right from the hospital.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, and I was afraid to reach out and touch her. Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes.
“Her name is Ning. I’ve spent years looking for her, hoping to find her and save her. I used my position in the SADB, clandestinely searching the Syndicate’s records, trying to find where they sent her, but I’ve always come up with nothing.”
“I’m so sorry." That was all I could think to say.
She wiped her face. “Thanks.”
Looking back over the water, she said, “I have a partner back home. He’s a nice enough person, a scientist working in the medical industry. I’m not interested in him sexually or romantically. I don’t think I’m interested in anyone that way. I’ve been using my posting here as a way of delaying my pregnancy.”
All I could offer was another lame apology.
“I appreciate it." She breathed deeply. “It’s good to just talk about it. This kind of discussion isn’t encouraged in the Syndicate.”
“They just intend for people to bottle it up?”
“Basically,” she got up and stretched.
“That sounds really unhealthy,” I observed.