Chapter 6

"He is the Kumlots Humperach!"

"What?" Ali looked deeply confused as she walked into the room, her brow furrowing as she looked at Opal, who was thrusting her arms into the air, her breasts heaving as she looked upwards at the ceiling, her face a mask of religious devotion.

I gently put my finger against Opal's back, pushing her. She let herself fall limply onto the bed.

"I'm an orgasm bender," I said, cheerfully.

"Zuh?" Ali cocked her head.

"We need to educate your girlfriend," Opal mumbled into the shimmering blue sheets of the bed.

"Leave the tired sci-fi references for later," Magnum said, his voice gruff as ever as he stepped into the room.

"Tired!?" Opal exclaimed.

"We worked on the Kumlots Humperach for, like, whole minutes!" I put my hands on my hips.

That was when the biokinetic that Ali, Magnum and Tycho had gone hunting for stepped into the room. And the effect was a bit like having your balls shrunk several sizes and then rush screaming into your belly to hide in desperate fear while your dick tries to do the same. I was shocked I didn't suddenly become as dickless as Walter Peck in that instant. Though to be quite honest, I kinda thought he had a point. You don't want four failed college professors running around with unlicensed, unregulated particle accelerators and nuclear power plants strapped to their backs. That just had Chernobyl in Manhattan written all over it.

But none of that had anything to do with the fact that a six foot tall, twelve foot wide spider made of pure black nightmare fuel had just scrunched its way into the room. It had fifteen fucking eyeballs, each one set along the central mushroom of its body, and each one glowed with a baleful light. Several mouths opened between the spidery legs, each one drooling and dripping onto the floor as fangs fluttered and twitched inside of puckered lips that were as rubbery black as a deadly dildo bat. The whole creature radiated a kind of menace that made even a Doyen Paladin in their warform seem cuddly and approachable.

"Greetings," the spider hiss/rumbled/echoed.

"Hi," I squeaked.

"I am to be your instructor," the spider hiss/rumbled/echoed.

"My name's Pirate Mask," I said, trying to sound calm. It came out as a high pitched whine. Like a balloon escaping.

"To pronounce my name correctly, you would need to ... rip out your tongue," the spider monster hiss/rumbled/echoed. For purposes of brevity, I will abbreviate that now to 'said.'

I coughed. "Well, uh, Mr. Underhill," I said, reaching up to adjust my collar before I remembered I was buck naked and hadn't worn a collar for what felt like five lifetimes. "Since I'm technically here to learn how to shapeshift, I suppose I could. Uh. Do that." I grinned. "Right?"

Sherkaner Underhill (that was the name I'd given him, if you don't get it, read a fucking book philistine) paused for a few moments. His eyes rippled as they blinked in a slow pattern that looked a bit like something a video game would use to show that it was loading a level down at the bottom corner of the screen. Then he said: "I like you, unknown alien."

"We're..." I paused. "Vulcans."

"Yes, Vulcans," Mangum said, shooting me a glare. "That is, indeed, what we are."

"Vulcans..." Sherkaner said. "Interesting. Now, we shall have to enter into a chamber with minimal biokinetic residue. This one will not do."

"It won't?"

"Too much free floating DNA imprinted into the local skien of subqauntum strata," Sherkaner said.

I exchanged a glance with Opal. Opal made a 'hey, don't look at me, buddy' expression. Ali covered her mouth, but failed utterly to hide her laughter from our local telepathic field. Her giggles followed me as I stood and followed Sherkaner – and was, myself, followed by Ali. Since, after all, this was theoretically her hiring someone to train one of her slave-servants to be better at doing his slaver slave job.

What was less comforting was her saying: "I'm really hoping that he follows through on that 'tongue ripping' thing." She grinned. "Then maybe you'll stop making references I don't get."

I gulped.

"Wait, no," Ali said, frowning. "Then I won't get to orgasm sitting on your face."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wait, you can cause orgasms through telepathic powers," she said, nodding.

I gulped again.

I didn't ask where we were going. At first. Because I figured that, like all grumpy mentors who taught their young but handsome and talented students who were destined to go and save the galaxy from evil, Sherkaner wouldn't be interested in questions. But by the time he had led us through a back alley and out of the main entrance of Gateway, I was starting to get curious. By the time we were about half a mile into the petrified stump forest, I had to know. I raised my hand.

"Mr. Underhill, where are we going?"

"Do you know why this forest is dead?" he asked.

"Asteroid impact," I said. "That seems the most likely explanation."

"Correct." He paused to let me and Ali scramble over some boulders and then start forcing our way up a dune that he had crested with a few great big steps with his stupid cheating spider legs. "You're quite an insightful species, you Vulcans. Many here need to study the ancient histories to draw such an inference. Most don't even know the heavens can fall and flames can sweep across a world." He bobbed his whole body in a spiderish bow. "Good work in selecting them for your personal slaves, Princess."

Ali smirked. "They have their upsides."

I panted. "Glad to know you're so appreciative of your good, hard working, tongue having slaves."

"Oh, slave, I was joking about the tongue ripping."

"Hurm," the spider said, sounding irritated. "I thought it was quite a good suggestion. Well, we are isolated from most non-microbial life forms here. I shall now demonstrate what a master of the biokinetic arts can accomplish, vulcan."

And with that, Sherkaner bobbed his body downwards, drawing his legs in against his body. He now looked like a well armored boulder made of pure hatred and evil eyeballs. Then I became aware of a slowly growing heat – a heat that built and built and built. At first, it was comforting, considering the chilly wind that cut through this dead planet's musty atmosphere. Then it got hotter than that. Red light shone from the boulderish mass of spidery limbs. I lifted one hand – and realized that, since he was showing off, I should instead be watching intently. Then I mentally smacked myself. Peeping with my eyeholes would be fucking useless, considering it was a fucking psychic power he was using. So, I opened up my telepathic senses.

Oh.

Looking at Sherkaner here, with my mind eyes, was an entirely different story. I could see that the heat was actually caused by a telekinetic bubble that was shunting the waste heat from his internal psychic brains to the air around him. And that was because his brains were tugging on a huge amount of psychic energy. But the trick was that he wasn't doing it fast. Heck, at the rate he was going, it looked like we might be here for a long ass time. But each time he drew psychic power into himself, he expanded his brains, thus, letting him pull in more psychic power.

Holy shit that was dangerous.

Like, it was a bit like making your rocket fly faster by building more engine into it while it was fucking flying through space.

One slip up, and all that psionic energy wouldn't just not have anywhere to go. It'd have nowhere to go and it'd be entirely contained in his body. It'd be like setting a microwave to death and turning it on inside of your squishy brain. I shuddered at the thought and forced myself to keep my feelings to myself. Any distraction right now would be fucking bad news bears for our highly expensive biokinetic teacher. But out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Ali was looking shocked as well.

Then the power finished gathering and, like a surgeon operating on a rocket motorcycle while his patient was on a different, slightly faster rocket motorcycle, my biokinetic instructor focused their stored energy into a single massive bodily transformation. Muscle mass and chitin was hurled into subspace, while new flesh was spun from raw nothingness. Skeletal structures bloomed and eyes shifted and vanished and popped. The whole transformation sounded like an orchestra of horror movie Foley artists being run over by a freight train.

When the light faded, Ali and I lowered our hands.

Standing on high heels made of solidified chiten was Lloth, Spider-Goddess of the Drow. Okay. Not literally. But my biokinetic instructor (who I hasten to remind you, had just been a fucking horse sized spider) had become a six foot tall woman with legs that swept up for miles, an ass as perky and full as an Olympic athlete played by a Hollywood movie star (and taut enough to bounce a machine gun belt's worth of quarters off of), and breasts the size of my fucking head. They were as midnight black as the rest of her completely nude body, and tipped with nipples as white as distant stars. Her hair was a Sarah Kerrigan style profusion of bone-spines that flexed themselves into a cascading pattern as she shook her head and brushed her fingers along her shoulders to clear away tiny bits of steam that clung to her body like a shroud. Her arms were muscular and her fingers were tipped with white nails.

Ali slowly reached over to close my jaw.

"So," my instructor said. "Do that."

"I should have gone for Victory Smith," I whispered.

"What?" Ali looked baffled.

Victory Smith frowned. "I sense you are thrown by my humanoid form."

"I ... just kinda ... thought..." I said, slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. "You were a dude."

"I am the male of my species," Victory said.

"Really?" I asked.

"No." She frowned. "I have mammary glands. And in my spider-form, I clearly have exposed thuuung and venom injectors. Now!" She clapped her hands, which set her breasts (which I hasten to add, are the size of my fucking head and didn't need a bra because of fancy space bodies) jiggling. "Transform!"

I held up my hands. "To what?"

Victory pursed her black lips and narrowed her glowing red eyes. I felt as if she was judging me. Not gonna lie? That kind of turned me on. I rubbed my hands together. All right. Transform. I bit my lip, then closed my eyes. I wasn't about to try doing the whole 'make a bigger rocket while that rocket is blasting into orbit' trick. That was definitely Avatar level psionic bullshittery. And I wasn't Korra, who was better than Aang. Yeah, I'm just full of controversial opinions today. And this wasn't just me delaying.

It was giving me an idea.

I breathed slowly in, then breathed outwards. I started to pull psychic energy into myself – and did so slowly. As the energy flowed in, filling my mind, I felt the building of heat in my squishy bits. So I added a second level of focus. In the same way that my warform was a projection of tekelekinetic power beyond my skin, I tried to move the heat out of my head and into the air around me. It took quite a bit of effort – and a fuck of a lot of focus. Imagine patting your head and rubbing your belly while also repairing a nuclear power plant.

Ali's breath caught behind me.

Okay. I had all this power. Now, to use it. But the issue was that if I fuck up my heart bid beat, or crush my nerves, or make my skull to small, or explode my ribs, then all my power wouldn't mean shit. And so, I mentally constructed the image of what I wanted to be in my head. And that image was all surface. The internal changes would be minor, to reduce the risks. Okay. I got it. I opened my eyes, then slammed my palms together. An explosion of heat swelled out of my body and Ali cried out in shock as my ears shifted up to the top of my head, fur swept along my shoulders, and a tail burst from above my rump. My head expanded and grew into a muzzle and I felt a momentary tightness in my throat as the change in my mouth structure almost choked me off. I quickly corrected, feeling my throat twisting around. It was a bit like strangling yourself from inside your body. Not fun. But I managed, somehow, to get all the pipes working together ... and...

Boom!

I grinned, my floofy tail wagging as I looked down at my balls and my sheath and my belly fur and my muscles and I thrust my paw above my head, hopping up and down in the sand.

"Woof woof!" I laughed. "Eat your fucking heart out, Jay Naylor!"

"Interesting..." Victory said, rubbing a dark finger along a dark chin, her red eyes narrowing to slits. "You've altered your external features admirably."

And, technically, right now, I had done my job. Since the whole point behind this mission was to just change how I looked without fucking dying, so I could do scouting without potentially running into someone who knew what humans looked like. But it felt wrong to just blow off sexy spider-drow chick without learning more. Plus, who knew when biokinetic powers would come in handy. And so, I grinned woofishly and said: "Obviously, a beginner's move. But I figured it's better, when showing off to your sifu, you don't explode your heart."

Victory reached down and cupped my balls with her hand. She squeezed them together. The impression that made on my newly canidized cock was immediate and utterly dramatic: A bright red cocktip peeked from my knot and a squeaky whine emerged from my throat as my tail started to wag at a gigawag per second. My ears flattened against my head as she pursed her lips.

"We shall begin with gender alteration! Resume your vulcan form!" she drew her hand back, then paused as she saw my cock finishing its emergence. A thick, fist sized knot sat at the bottom of twelve inches of brilliant red wolf-cock. I grinned, sheepishly, as she looked at me and arched an eyebrow ever so slightly.

I grinned, sheepishly. Or should I say ... wolfishly? Eh? Eh? Cause I was a big walking humanoid wolf! Hah! Wait, I'd already described my grin as wolfish. As I kicked myself for jumping the gun on that, Victory sniffed and said: "I'm a biokinetic. Size does not impress me. Technique does. Resume your form. Now!" her voice held that femdom crack that we all loved her for.

I looked at Ali, who wasn't even trying to hide her giggles.

I shifted back to my human form.

Victory put her hands on her hips, looking out at the desert away from me. Looking at her delicious rump filled me with ... thoughts. Specifically: Dat. Fucking. Ass. She clearly would wait, maybe, five seconds more before she'd step on me. And while being stepped on would be fun and all, if you were into that (and I was alarmed at how much I was into the idea of her stepping on me), I had a mission to do here. And so, I resumed my human form. Since it was where I had started from, it took less energy and was a fuck of a lot easier. Though I made sure to breathe in before transforming, so I had plenty of air during the bit where my throat went a bit screwy. Once I was done, I was once more regular old Abadai Hatem, your average every day part-Vaguely Middle Eastern Californian Teenager with biokinetically enhanced donger and muscles born of a few months in the PsiCom.

Okay, not entirely average then.

"Transforming between genders is the easiest biokinetic art," Victory said.

"What about changing your skin color?" I asked, cocking my head.

"Besides that," Victory said, her eyes narrowing.

"Or making your ears pointed."

"Besides that."

"Or making your hair longer?"

"Transforming between genders is the easiest real biokinetic art," Victory snarled. I grinned slightly, then started to listen as Victory laid out the basics. "You need to reach inside of your body and feel the chromosomal structures that you are born with. Vulcans are, like all life forms, based on their cells and the cells of their mothers and their fathers. By finding that blueprint, you can extrapolate outwards from how life might have gone, had your father not buried his gagnar deep within your mother's least favorite eye-socket and emptied his semi-acidic limpet sperm into her pleasure centers-"

"I get it!" I exclaimed, holding up my hands. "Just ... just ... let me focus, okay?"

She inclined her head, slightly, her Kerrigan style hair clittering and clattering as all the little spike fingers rearranged themselves in the cold, bitter wind of the desert. I closed my eyes and breathed in, then reached deep inside of my body with my awareness. It took a few moments of coaxing, but I started to feel an awareness of different possibilities. There were ancient genes in my body – recessive and suppressed. I could feel distant, barely remembered echoes of breathing water. I could feel closer echoes of tails, of lacking thumbs. Of liking the Star Wars prequels. All these vestigial genetic features were there for me to grab. But, sounding loudest of all, was a congenital diabetic condition and male pattern baldness.

Eep!

... but slightly less loud was being a chick!

Less eep!

I felt that blueprint and brought it to the fore. When the change had finished, I opened my eyes and squeaked in shock. I know, it was dumb to be so shocked. I was using biokinetic powers to transform my physical gender. Or ... physical sex, I could never keep track of which one it was. But it was still a shock to feel your donger vanish and get replaced with pussy lips, and to feel your chest swell with two tiny titties. It was even more shocking to feel your bones shift and settle as you grew shorter and more femmy – a change in jaw structure, an alteration in rib count, everything. I put my hands on my chest, then hissed as I felt my fingers touching my puffy nipples.

Ohh ... I thought, my teeth biting onto my lower lip.

Vicky slapped my hands away from my chest. "Stimulate yourself on your own time, slave."

I quivered. Nnh. Okay. Uh. Wow. I had been turned on with her femdom attitude as a dude. Now that I was in a girl, her curvaceous Queen Bitch of the Universe routine was basically setting off tingly alarm bells in my head. And the alarm went: Step on me. Step on me. Step on me. I forced those feelings backwards as I tried out using my mouth to form words. And, fortunately, those words weren't offering myself to become her lesbian fucktoy for the foreseeable future. I mean, I had learned some things in basic. Instead, I said: "What's next, Vicky?"

"You're such a cute girl!" Ali cooed.

I grinned, giving her a thumbs up.

"Ohmygods!" Ali put her hands over her mouth. "Your nose!"

I blinked, putting my hand on my nose. And I felt that there, right next to my nose, was a big old mole. I gasped. "Aww!"

"It adds character!" Ali said, quickly.

"So does a ding in a car door," I muttered, pouting. Cutely, I might add.

"Ahem," Vicky coughed. "The next thing to learn is how to view and examine other beings." She lifted her nose. "I invite you to examine me."

I looked at her.

Still hot.

Vicky reached out and smacked to the top of my head a glancing blow.

"Examine me with your biokinesis!"

"Right!" I shook my head, trying to use my fingers to get my hair back into some measure of control. I furrowed my brow and tried to reach outwards with my biokinetic talent. And it turned out feeling your own butt with your biokinesis was a fuck of a lot easier than feeling someone elses'. I was able to get faint whispers of her body – this wasn't like examining her telepathically. When she had been building up her power, she had been radiating. It was like examining something as hot as the sun. You don't need a lot of range to notice that. Right now though? She was just there, being her Sexy Drowish Kerrigan self. And that gave my biokinesis nothing much to grab onto.

"Hmm..." Vicky said, her hair twitching. "Your range seems a touch weak. Interesting. Not all biokinetics have range – don't look so distraught." She waved her hand. "If more did, then assassinations would be a great deal easier."

A sudden mental image came to mind: Some poor Doyen sap's liver suddenly producing mercury instead of ... whatever it was livers were normally supposed to do. I winced. But I got why we should all be happy biokinesis is nice and short. And so, I reached outwards with my palms, then set them on Vicky's breasts.

"Pirate!" Ali squeaked.

Vicky smirked. "Brave," she said.

I honestly hadn't been thinking. I had just, kinda, put my hands on her. It wasn't my fault her tits were the size of small fucking moons. Okay. They weren't actually that big. But. Holy fuck, they were fine. I squeezed. Fuck! Pirate Mask, what the fuck were you doing? But as I squeezed and watched her soft flesh dimpling between my fingers, I felt her nipple puff and harden and grow pointed against my palms. Vicky didn't blush, but she did look aside.

"Ahem," she said.

Right! Examination.

I leaned forward, rubbing my face against the valley of her breasts, my hands slowly squeezing and lifting her breasts in circles. I nuzzled her skin, my eyes closing as I breathed in her soft, spicy scent. This was ... vital for ... my hand slid to her hip and I sucked on her nipple, closing my lip around the pale whiteness. I pressed against her breast, my hand squeezing her hip as my other hand shifted from squeezing her breast to gently rolling her nipple between my pointer finger and thumb.

Vicky's teeth sank down into her lower lip and her hair writhed in agitation.

So examine. Most science...

"We, ah..." Vicky shuddered slightly. "We should move past examination..." She gasped as I sucked eagerly on her nipple. Her eyes widened ... then closed as a slow smile split her lips. "Or, if you wish to, you may continue to pleasure me, slave."

I drew my mouth back. Thin lines of spittle connected my lips to her full breast as I panted quietly. "I wouldn't mind. I mean ... uh..." I gulped, slightly, risking a glance back to see Ali. Ali was nodding quickly and giving me a huge double thumbs up.

Vicky smirked. "Then resume your male form. I wish to, as you so helpfully broadcast ... step on you."

I grinned. "You sure you don't want me as is?" I gestured to my currently feminine body.

Dude! My male heterosexual half shouted. The fuck are you talking about?

Hot lesbian action? I responded.

Dude! ... noice.

We mentally fist bumped.

Vicky simply arched a single eyebrow. "You wish to see how a male of my species takes a female of another species?"

"Male it is!" I said, clapping, and with that, I resumed being male Abby. My cock was as achingly hard as my sex had been glisteningly wet. My whole member ached with a kind of desperate desire to bury itself deep in her pussy. But I wanted to take this nice and slow and good. And so, I put my hands on her rump, squeezing her and drawing her close and kissing her eagerly. Her eyes widened and her hair spread outwards in a kind of shocked expression. A bit like if you had suddenly smacked Medusa in the face with your cock. Like, every single snake would have had the same expression. But unlike a face slap with a cock, a kiss was always appreciated.

... unless, I mean, it wasn't.

But in this case, Vicky responded to the kiss by slowly relaxing her hair, sliding her tongue against my mouth, then leaning into me. Her breasts mashed to my chest and I slapped one ass-cheek playfully. That provoked an intense and immediate reaction. Before I knew it, I was on my back, my head spinning slightly as she crouched above my chest. Her palms splayed across my muscular chest and her glowing red eyes were narrowed in a delighted way. Her lips spread in an eager smirk and I could see she had really cute vampire-style fangs.

"I believe that it is my turn to lead the way, slave."

And with that she swung herself forward and sat down on my face.

I had the upmost pleasure of having my face sat upon by many fine women, including an alien space princess. But it was a new thing entirely to have my face sat upon by a woman who was so ardently in charge as Victoria Smith. The fact she was a jet black drow-spider woman only added to the intensity of the experience. Her sex tasted ... dark. It was hard to put an exact phrase to it. There was a bitter aftertaste, following up on a kind of rich pleasure that I couldn't quite explain. And so, I won't even try. I'll just say that the flavor, despite the aftertaste, was more than enough to get me lapping at her sex. My tongue slipped from her taint to her clit, finding the nub of eager flesh at the top of her clitty as my hand reached up to squeeze her firm, firm rump. I pushed her against me – and she obliged, grinding her sex against my face.

Pff.

Breathing was for people who weren't eating Victoria Smith out.

I closed my eyes and felt the darkness of her thighs and her sex blotting out everything ... and then Vicky drew her thighs backwards. I realized that I could now breathe. And that was enough to bring life back to my befuddled brain. I breathed in and licked my lips and realized that Victoria had just given me a bit of a repreive. Before I could get more than a gasp in and out and into my lungs, she was lowering her sex down. I cupped her ass worshipfully as my nose ground against her clit. I looked up past her flat, muscular belly and at those large, perfectly pendulous breasts, swaying above me. My tongue drove into her sex and I tried to find the part of her that would bring her the most pleasure...

And then I realized I didn't have to seek with just my tongue!

I reached out with my talent, and started to creep through her biology. Vicky laughed. "Yes! Yes!" Her fingers slipped through my hair, squeezing as she rocked her thighs. "Very good slave. Find your mistress' centers of nnnh!" She clenched her jaw, her eyes closing. Her hips rocked and her back arched as she climaxed and climaxed hard. Her juices spurted over my lips and face and I closed my eyes to keep them out of my peepers. I needed those to watch how perfect she looked as she came. Vicky actually had to gasp a few times before she got her silky purr of a voice under control again.

When she could speak, she breathed. "Very well done, slave."

And then her thighs were freeing my head ... just in time for her to skim along my chest. I felt her gliding against my skin, leaving a line of glistening girl-juices as her rump bumped against my achingly hard cock. Pre slicked her ass-cheeks as she rocked her rump against my ass, her voice predatory. "Ah, how wonderful hard this big fat cock is. I bet you want me to glide my spidercunt up and then take you up to your hilt into me. I bet you want to dump two fat loads of thick, hot, cum into me..." Her fingers were tracing patterns along my chest as she stretched herself out – so she could grind her rump and her thighs against my cock while still mashing her breasts against my chest.

"The phrase 'spider cunt' shouldn't sound sexy..." I whispered, my voice dazed.

What if it was Mary Jane as Spidergirl?

Trueche brain-parts. Trueche.

Her fingernails dug against my chest and her eyes flashed as she leaned forward. "What did you say, slave?"

"I said..." I whispered, slowly. My hands slipped along her thighs. And I realized it was time to go on the offensive. I reached into the subqauntum realm and pulled extra muscle mass into my body. I didn't layer it up like I was turning into Arnie or anything. Instead, I coiled it around extant muscle and bone, turning normal muscle into super muscle. With this added strength ... I pounced. My hands grabbed onto Vicky's wrists and I pushed her backwards. She gasped as her rump slapped against the sand, her thighs falling open of her own accord. I pinned her wrists over her head and grinned down at her. "I think that the phrase spider-cunt shouldn't sound so fucking inviting." My cock slapped against said cunny – and I felt how hot and wet she was compared to roughly five seconds before.

When her sex had been pressed to my belly, she had been at a 9/10 on the Kirk-Picard Alien Arousal Scale. Yeah, Picard actually tapped more chicks than Kirk did, go watch the series and fucking pay attention.

Now she was definitely at a twelve.

"W-what are you doing?" Vicky asked, sounding surprised.

I grinned. "Demonstrating my technique, Vicky." And with that, I leaned forward and kissed her. Hard. My tongue thrust into her mouth and her back arched slightly. And I tried to pull another trick. I used some biokinesis to grow my tongue to a roughly Ali level of tongue-fuckery. Oh. Ohhh. Sliding my tongue into Vicky's throat felt almost as satisfying as using my cock. There was something ... primal about it. And something deeply pleasurable about the way her mouth opened wider. Willingly submitting to me as I took charge.

I drew my mouth back, my tongue retracting a moment later. I shrank it a moment later, grinning slightly.

Vicky panted, which set wonderful secondary jiggles off on her breasts as she writhed underneath me, bucking her hips gently against my – by now – completely slicked up dick. "I ... I have not felt like this in a while."

"What can I say?" I whispered, leaning forward and kissing her neck. I sucked on her dark skin, using just enough teeth to wring a quiet squeal of bliss from her. I broke contact with a wet smack, drawing my own hips back, my hands sliding from her wrists to her shoulders to the sandy ground to either side of her, levering myself backwards so that my cock slotted against her sex and the tip began to gently spread her pussy. "I'm really fucking good at this."

Vicky's eyes looked unfocused as she spread her thighs a notch wider. Her sex was practically sucking on the tip of my dick with her eagerness. She whimpered something under what my normal human ears could hear. But since I could read her lips pretty easily, I totally knew what she had said. But with the dizzying rush of pure, unbridled, macho power that was coursing through my veins like ten ounces of cocaine, I wanted more. I wanted more of this sweet, sweet high. I grinned.

"Louder..."

Vicky bit her lip, tossing her head to the side. Half of her hair drew furrows on the sand – like fingers grasping for sheets to try and control her instincts. It was fucking adorable. I grinned, leaning forward, whispering in her elf-tipped ear. I had called her Lloth for a reason, you know? And not just to keep up my street cred. "Louder." My teeth nipped at her ear-tip.

"Fuck meee!" she whimpered.

"Your ego is going to be the size of a planet, isn't it?" Ali whispered, sounding awed.

I slammed into her.

"I knew it!" Vicky cried out in purest bliss, her back arching, her hands looping around my neck, her sex clenching my like a silken, slippery fist. I almost popped out of her, that was how tight she was. I hissed, clenched my jaw, and beat my orgasm back through sheer force of will. I closed my eyes as tightly as my fingers worked into the sand, squeezing lumps of it so hard that I was shocked I wasn't making glass. But I managed to stay buried to the hilt inside of Vicky.

Once the first wave of intense passion had passed, I murmured. "Knew it?"

Vicky was looking up at me, her face slightly slack. "Knew..." She paused, as if searching for something. Then ... slowly ... she smiled. Shyly. "I knew that you'd be good. Now, fuck me." She whispered. "Fuck me hard. Please"

Well.

When she asked so politely.

I started to go to town on her. My hips drove home again and again and again and again as my body rocked above her. Every slap of my thighs against her thighs was followed a half second later by the louder slap of my balls against her ass. Her back dug ruts into the sandy ground as she bucked herself against me. A minor TK field kept any sand grits from the fun parts – and meant that we got all the romantic upsides of fucking on the deserts of a dead planet with none of the uncomfortable side effects!

And then I got lost in her eyes, her breathy moan, the feeling of Ali pressing agianst my back. My girlfriend whispered in my ear, her voice hot and oh so eager. "Fuck her. Fuck her hard. Fuck her little spider brains out. Show her whose in charge. Yeah." Her hand caressed my rump, then caught my swaying balls, squeezing them in time with my thrusts. The alternating pressure and release set off tiny fireworks behind my eyes. So, I cheated. I biokinetically extended my orgasm denial field (don't leave home without it) and continued to thrust into her.

Vicky came.

This time, I wasn't able to stay in. Her sex was so tight and so slippery hot and wet that she actually forced me out of her. I grunted as my cock slapped against the sand of the desert. Thank god for my TK – it kept my cock clean as I laughed shakily.

"You forced me out, bitch!" I grinned, then grabbed onto Vicky's shoulders. I spun her over and her hair fanned outwards as she was mashed against the dune, her thighs spreading as she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes widening. "Lets see if this works better." And with that, I slammed into her from behind. Fucking her like an animal.

Vicky seemed to take it well.

"Yessssssohgodyesyesyesyesyesyes!" her head arched so far back that her hair-spines were able to actually scratch her back. Nice touch, that. I leaned forward, kissing where her spine-hairs touched her scalp. I licked and nuzzled at her as I thrust faster and faster and faster, driving her into the ground. Her body rocked and her sex tightened on me again and again and again. And there were limits to what Allah and orgasm denial fields and my own red blooded American can do attitude could ... do ... in the face of Vicky's astounding space pussy.

I came.

I didn't just cum, actually.

I came so. Fucking. Hard. It felt like my balls were turning into black holes, that was how hard they clenched as I filled Vicky to the brim, then burst past the seal of my cock. Cum splashed against my belly muscles and dripped along her thighs and puddled under her belly. Her hair fanned outwards exactly as if Medusa had just experienced the most intense orgasm in her life. Every spine was fully extended, and the tips quivered with orgasmic aftershocks as her jaw hung open and she made noises between gasps, moans, and choked screams of pure bliss.

Slowly ... we both came down from the high.

And I do mean slowly. It felt like five or six eternities passed, just in the bliss of her twitching, eager pussy. My member slowly softened as I ducked my head forward resting my face against her shoulder blades.

"That was ... quite pleasant," Vicky whispered. "My apologies for this betrayal."

"Huh?" I asked.

And that was when the tentacle grew out of her back and stuck my neck with a big old needle.

The darkness swept up super fast...

I opened my eyes with a groan.

My arms were chained behind my back. I focused, trying to immediately rip the chains apart with a wave of telekinetic force. It wasn't elegant and it wasn't subtle – it was a reflexive shove of pure force. Instead, I felt my psionic power bouncing off of ... something. I realized that my kinky hair was being clamped against my head by a big old ... helmet thing. I craned my head around, trying to look at it and the room at the same time.

Well, good news. I wasn't on a room. I was on a tongue of obsidian stone that thrust out over a vast pit of ashen-grey powder. It looked like we were on some kind of mountain range. I gulped slowly as I realized how close I and Ali were to that edge. And looking over the edge, I could see that the ashen powder ... rippled. Flowed. A dorsal ridge emerged for a moment, then drew back down. Something about that ridge was familiar. But before I could put a finger on it, a voice snapped my attention back over.

"At long last. Abadai Hatem and Princess Tzali. My archnemisis."

Standing before us was Vicky – in her doomsday spider form – and a robed fucker. Specifically, the robed fucker from the Doyen Court. The guy whose whole look had screamed 'I am the one secretly behind this bullshit.' That guy. Up close, his robes were a pale black and red, with a hood that swept over his face, concealing it from view. His hands were clasped before his chest, hidden by the long sleeves of his robes. Even his feet were impossible to be seen. He was basically Evil Cloak Man number 98b, found next to Dude With Machete and Asshole in Suit in the cliché villain storehouse.

" ... nemesisas?" he paused. "Nemesaii?"

"Nemeses," I said, helpfully. Then I craned my head back. I could hear Ali groaning and the faint clink of chains. But between us was a massive sphere of silvery-white metal. That we were both chained too.

My heart started to sink.

"Whatever!" the robed man said, slashing at the air with one hand. His hand was gloved. No clue to his race, beyond having five fingers. Well, four fingers and a thumb. But then his hands were clasped again under those robes and he continued to speak. "I suppose you think you were so clever. But not clever enough it seems. I knew that you'd seek out the Abyss and seek your queries there. And so, I paid off the best spies to keep their eyes open. Little did I imagine you would so foolishly seek the council of one." He laughed. "How droll! Humanity, the race known for trickery, undone by blind trust." He launched into a megalomaniac cackle.

" ... it wasn't ... blind trust, exactly..." I muttered, my face heating up.

"Where ... are we?" Ali groaned.

"You are ... above your DOOM!" the robed figure laughed. "You are on, as your people know it the first planet of 55 Cancri. You are many light years from your friends. And you are strapped..." He stepped closer and his gloved hand caressed the sphere I was chained to. "To a 50 megaton fusion-implosion tritium based thermal bomb."

"Oh, so, a nuke," I said.

There was a long pause.

"A 50 megaton fusion implosion tritium based thermal bomb!" He hissed. "That's what it is!"

"It's a nuke," I said. "Stop trying to impress us."

He actually stamped his foot. "I WILL NOT BE MOCKED!"

"I'm not mocking you, dude, I-"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" he shouted, then kicked the bomb. Like. With his foot. Normally, this would have caused the nuke to rock slightly. If at all. Since, I mean, nukes (unless they've been shrunk down to fit into suitcases) are fucking heavy as balls. However, Robed Jackass here apparently was playing by different rules because instead of not moving, the sphere instead rolled away from him, dragging Ali and me with it, over to the edge of the obsidian cliff, and down, down, down, down. As we fell, I screamed – and saw that we were falling to a wide.

Open.

Mouth.

Five minutes later, with both of us recovered from the jarring impact and the wet splort, Ali sighed. We were ankle deep in ... something.

"I believe that this may, in fact, be stomach acid," Ali said, craning her head backwards to try and look at me. Her crystalline dreadlocks clinked and clattered against the bomb as she struggled against the restraints that wrapped around her chest and arms. The same restraints that, by the way, kept me stuck to the bomb. A similar pair of straps kept the dampener helmet on my head – locking down every last talent I had.

The massive walls of purplish flesh convulsed around us as my feet dug into the soft, squishy floor. The liquid that sloshed against my toes stung like sticking your hand into orange juice after cutting your fingers open.

"I think you're right, Ali," I said, slowly.

Deet. Deet. Deet.

"What is that?" Ali asked, her voice tightening. She wriggled and squirmed. "Is that the explosive device?"

"No." I paused. "I think that's the timer."

"Abby..."

"Yeah, Ali?"

"I think that it is safe in saying that this is your fault."