Meer Kass

Meer Kass

byBlackShanglan©

Conor stood in the opulent reception hall of the Merchant House of Kor, feet sunk in the plush pile of the carpet as he watched the morning crowd arrive. The galaxy, he thought, is a strange and wonderful place. All around him, merchants, agents, pilots and purchasers teemed in all the variety of which life, in its galactic sense, was capable. Con had been raised on a small and isolated planet, and until he’d left home he’d seen only a handful of races, most of them other human sub-variants. Now his childhood encounters with squat heavyworlders or the stripe-haired colonists of system’s other planet were stripped of their exotic mystique by the daily barrage of amazingly varied species. From his desk he could see the Isks, Ko and Itzo, scampering along on their way to the mailroom, their eight-legged, golden-furred bodies swerving as if on tracking. Their small frames were simply disks of flesh with slender limbs spaced evenly around them, a two-foot tail in the back, and no visible sensory organs. He still wasn’t sure how they “saw,” or whatever they did. In the corner, Jonah sat in his place by the window, immobile and impassive. He took some warming to; Con still found it hard to consider the sofa-sized mass of knobbed mineral sentient, although Jonah had been forgiving when Con had sat on him on his first day at the office. It was something of an initiation ritual amongst the non-“professional” staff. Cool Salariki merchants, their sleek fur and feline grace draped in rich robes, still made him pause, but only in admiration – he saw them almost daily as they worked to send the galaxy’s finest to their luxury-loving homeworld. Amidst the welter of fur, feathers, chitin, and tentacles, human-variants hardly registered as variants with him any longer, and anything even vaguely bipedal had lost the power to charm him.

Anything but Meer Kass. He watched from his alcove as she stood bowed in the doorway for a moment, throwing back the deep cowl of her cloak to reveal eyes like broad green platters, sleek fur with the luster of tarnished silver, and feline features with a winking, knowing expression. She was Salariki, and tall for the race; she topped Con by several inches, and moved with easy power and a panther-like gravity of grace. Her fur glowed with health and luxury, and he sighed quietly to himself as he thought again of what it would feel like under his fingers. Sensuous, he thought wryly – for the few seconds he’d have left to live if he dared that transgression. He looked away as she headed across the lobby, pretending to monitor his security screens as she moved towards the desk.

“Corridor one, room five, please.” Her voice was a lazy, throaty purr that jolted his libido as it lingered caressingly over the r’s and s’s. He reached for the passcard, looking up into her calm, faintly mischievous eyes as he held it out and felt her claws slide like polished ivory over his palm.

“Con. I listened to that music of yours.” She chuckled, a low purr, and her eyes narrowed with humor. “How barbaric. I enjoyed it.” She smiled, showing perfectly pointed white dentition, and nodded to him as she took his disk from a belt pouch and slid it over the counter to him.

“Oh, you don’t have to give it back,” he gulped out quickly, pulse suddenly pounding in his ears. She’s listened to it! She’d actually listened to it! Now if he could just get her to do it again … “I have a couple more like it. I can run you some copies if you want.”

She cocked her head thoughtfully, sleek pointed ears flicking back to the noise of the lobby and forward again to him. “Yes, I may take your offer. I found your primitivists most refreshing. Perhaps more of the drummers?”

Con nodded eagerly, trying not to blow it all by looking too delighted. From the glint of humor in her eyes, he thought that she found his behavior amusing. She must know of his desire for her. He’d heard that Salariki could detect scents as subtle as those associated with particular states of mind, and she must have known by looking at him how excited she made him. If only that wouldn’t make her suspicious. He thought she wasn’t; he was pretty sure that she just found him cute and puppyish in his obvious admiration. She had the typical Salariki self-possession, an assurance bordering on arrogance. It would take more respect for him in order for her to regard him as a threat. As it was, she no doubt regarded his fascination with her as entirely understandable in a human underling.

She nodded and smiled again, tapping his palm with hers in a gesture of thanks as she turned. He watched her move through the paneled doors in a swirl of dark gray cloak and allowed himself the luxury of leaning his head on his hands and groaning.

A skitter and tweaking at his arm made him look up. Ko was there, tickering a staccato message on the noteboard it wore around its middle. It held it up and waved a couple of finger-like arms:

“TWENTY HUNDRED CREDIT I GET YOU ON HER NEXT SHIP. I GOT CONTACT.”

Con laughed and pushed at the board. “Get out of here, Ko. You work in the mailroom.”

Ko rattled on the keyboard with four of its limbs. “EVERYTHING GO THROUGH MAILROOM! HEEHEEHEE CON GOODBOY.” Ko emitted a chittery chirping sound and scampered up his arm to sit on his shoulder, curling its tail around his neck and tugging his hair playfully with one limb. “CON NO LUCKY TODAY?”

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow.”

“STOP SHOW MUSIC SHOW MAN-THING. YOU HUMAN NO GOT?”

“Yeah, that’d be real subtle, Ko. That the way they do it back on Isk?”

“ISK, THEY DO BEST! YOU NO GOT FIVE ISK, YOU NO DO IT RIGHT. ONLY NEED THREE BUT WHO WANT STOP THERE? HEEHEEHEE!” Ko chittered and rocked until it nearly fell off Con’s shoulder.

“Right now, I’d settle for one.”

“OK RIGHT CON. MAYBE SHE PLAY YOU LITTLE MAN-THING FOR YOU. SURE THING SHE LOVE YOU SKINNY NAKED APE SELF.” Ko scampered around his neck, tickling him with its legs.

“Ko – fuck off back to the mail room.”

“HEEHEEHEE! OK GOTTA GO CON. NO LET KASS SCRATCH CON’S BACK – OOOOOOH CONNNN PRETTY MONKEY BOOOYYYY!” Ko waved the board tauntingly, then dodged about the countertop as Con swatted at it. With a wave of its tail, it sprang into the crowd in the lobby and scuttled off towards the offices.

He couldn’t help laughing. Ko was a little freak, but it was good for a laugh. It was right, though. Kass wasn’t going to fall for some bald primate. Salariki thought pretty highly of themselves, and he’d never heard of one seeking a liaison outside of its race. But it was more than that. Meer Kass had been a pilot and a freelance runner; she still owned her own ship, and now shared in the Merchant House’s profits as a very young but very respected associate. She had managed to carve herself a career in a risky and demanding field, and had grown rich doing it. She’d earned the Salariki honorific “Meer” at an unusually young age, and was commonly known to have sufficient independent capital to match or exceed her Merchant House salary. She was usually subtle about it, but she didn’t hide it – it wasn’t Salariki custom to hide superiority or to deny oneself the conveniences that skill, talent, or money could provide.

What could he offer compared to that? She was wealthy, adventurous, intelligent, sensual … he stopped himself there with determination, and turned his thoughts to himself. He was barely skilled, a desk jockey; his position as “security” was laughable. The only effective thing he could do was to sound the alarm for the real police. And he had to admit that he’d bought into the Salariki way of seeing things. They were an amazingly race: graceful, refined, physically beautiful. No Salariki would consider courting the stumbling nakedness of a human, let alone a human so far down on the social scale. She was out of his reach.

But not out of his mind. And now, he thought, almost not daring to think it … and now, she wasn’t quite out of his reach. Not any more.

***

Kass Kass Kass Kass Kass likes music Kass likes music Kass likes music Kass likes music Kass likes this music this music this music Kass likes this music wants more hear more hear more this music Kass likes this music Kass wants more this music trusts Con likes Con good music likes music likes this music Cons music more music wants more music wants more of Con smusic Kass likes music Kass wants more music Kass wants more Cons music Kass wants more Cons music Kass wants more

[repeat]

***

Kass stopped by the desk the next morning, a little earlier this time. She actually took him by surprise, so that for once, he didn’t have to pretend to be looking at something else as she approached. He caught a glimpse of motion and then heard her soft rumble purring over his name.

“Con.” She smiled. She usually did. Did it seem wider this time? He was imagining things. She’d heard one disk – ONE DISK, he reminded himself. Stop being an idiot. He wrenched his eyes up and smiled, trying not to look as guilty as he felt.

“Corridor one, room five?”

She nodded, then placed a velvet-furred hand on the counter, milky white claws tapping it lightly. Her paws, his mind noted irrelevantly, were darker; they shaded into a gray so deep that it was nearly charcoal. “So tell me, Con. Where do you find your native music on this planet? It is very enjoyable. I may need to invest in some.” She smiled at the small joke on the daily business of investment that went on around them.

“Oh no need, no need. I have it sent over by my parents in packets from home. It’d be pretty hard to find here, but I can make you copies of everything I have. It’s no problem.”

She paused for a moment, an uncharacteristic hesitation. “I should pay for the disks, at least, Con?” She ended it as a question; she seemed uncomfortable offering him money, but equally uncomfortable accepting repeated presents. He crossed the fingers of one hand under the counter as he slid the newly prepared disk across it and smiled.

“Don’t worry about it, Meer Kass. It’s a pleasure to me to find someone interested in our world, and it’s no trouble to run the disks. Maybe you’ll find a market for it.” He grinned. “Then you can remember me.”

Kass laughed and took the disk. “Very well, Con. I shall keep my source in mind.” She slipped the disk into a belt pouch and took her passcard from him, then turned and was gone in a breath of spicy-sweet herbs.

***

Kass likes music Kass likes music Kass loves this music Kass loves Cons music Kass loves Con Kass trusts Con Kass likes Con Kass loves Cons music Kass wants to hear it again Kass wants to listen to more Kass trusts Con Kass likes Con Kass likes to see Con Kass loves Cons music Kass wants to listen again Kass wants to listen again Kass wants to listen again Kass loves Con Kass likes to see Con Kass wants to touch Con Kass likes to look at Con Kass wants to talk to Con Kass loves music Kass loves this music Kass loves Con Cons music Con Con Con Kass wants to listen again again again again

[repeat]

***

It was a strange dream. It was an absurd dream. It was … repulsive.

It was fascinating.

Kass groaned and eyed the soft glow of the clock, hearing a tired sigh from the rumpled tawny form next to her. The pilot had been by all means satisfactory – in terms of stamina and grace, nothing was left wanting, and his golden fur and bright green eyes were certainly striking.

But she’d dreamed of naked skin … and strange sunken blue eyes.

She sighed and got up, swirling a robe around her as she padded over the cool tiles to the kitchen. Leaning against the wall, lapping down a glass of milk, she shook her head and ran idle claws through her mane. She wasn’t going to get back to sleep. With a resigned sigh, she moved out to the work room, feeling the rich pile of the woven rugs caress the pads of her feet. She sat in the egg-shaped velvet scoop-chair in front of her terminal and switched on the elegantly arching lamp. As she opened the latest account data, she picked up the discreet little remote and turned the music system on, just that room, very low. The steady bass throb and intricate overlays of the drumming were somehow soothing, and soon she was curled up in the chair, dozing lightly while her ears flicked and twitched with the music.

***

Con hunched over his drink, eying the doorway. Soon Dag’s tall, gawky figure filled it. He waved to him from the bar.

Dag slid down next to him, glancing along the bar cautiously. Con shoved over the drink he’d ordered for him.

“Don’t worry. The service sucks. I got you set up the last time he bothered to look over.”

Dag nodded and took a deep drink.

“Ah, damn that’s good.” He hesitated a moment, then plunged in. “So. How’s it, uh … going?”

Con shrugged. “Well, she hasn’t tried to kill me yet, and I’m pretty sure she listened to the first disk, so it’s good so far.”

“She look like she’s feeling any effect?”

“Hard to say. She seemed a little more friendly today, but it wasn’t anything major.”

Dag nodded. “That’s good. Don’t want to move too fast. She might work it out.”

“Yeah. But can you burn me a few more? I want to be ready to move ahead. She’s listening to them anyway.”

“Sure. I brought the next one with me. I’ll send some more in the next day or two – just keep sending me what you want on them.”

Con nodded, taking the disk that Dag handed over. He eyed it, then spoke a little sheepishly.

“You think it’ll work?”

Dag laughed, shaking his head. “If it does, she’ll never know. We just have to make sure we don’t get it too high range. If we’re low in the borderline perception frequencies, she just won’t register anything, but if we get too far toward conscious perception frequencies, it’ll start hitting the conscious mind. We know she doesn’t hear it consciously now; let’s not fuck with it.”

Con nodded. “No kidding. Don’t screw around with it. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.”

Dag nodded, then grinned as he clapped Con’s shoulder.

“Hey, think positive, though. Maybe it will.”

***

“Good morning, Meer Kass. Corridor one, room five?”

He did his best to sound brisk, professional, and disinterested. He wasn’t sure how successful he was; it’s hard to lie to someone who can smell your level of tension. But he did his best to stay cool, and he was slowly upping the amount of cologne he wore in hopes that it confuse the issue. He was the first to admit he had no clue what he was doing, but he tried to be subtle. (Evidently not quite subtle enough; he’d backed off after Ko’s terse interrogative – “MONKEY BOY GOT FLEA? STINK TO KILL?” If the Isk could notice it, Kass probably found it overwhelming.) He tried to imagine gutting fish to keep his mind (and other organs) from going into overdrive.

Kass looked preoccupied. She nodded and reached out to take the passcard. Was it his imagination, or did her slightly rough fingerpads linger longer on his hand than necessary? He looked up and she suddenly glanced away, almost as if disconcerted, and jerked the card to her. She was rattled! He’d never seen her anything but coolly detached. He hesitated, not sure if he should push things at this moment – but he had the disk made, and if she got any more nervous, she might start to avoid him. He slid the disk over the counter, pretending to look at something of interest on a monitor in order to avoid eye contact.

“Oh, I made you a disk of some of the latest music that my parents sent over. I remembered that you liked the one drummer gang I sent you last time, so I put a bunch of their stuff on it. Hope you enjoy it – sorry, I need check this out.”

He rattled away on a keyboard, pretending to deal with the non-existent “problem.” It was cheesy, he knew, but he hoped that she might take the disk and not quibble about it if he cut off communication. She stood there for a moment, eyeing him; he could feel her gaze burning into him. Then her claws scraped briefly on the countertop. When he finally allowed himself to look, she and the disk were gone and the paneled door was drifting slowly closed.

***

Kass loves Cons music needs more of Cons music wants to listen to Cons music wants more of Cons music wants more of Con likes to see Con Kass loves to look at Con Kass wants Con Kass trusts Con Kass trusts Con Kass trusts Con Kass loves Con Kass loves his bare skin Kass wants to touch Con Kass loves Cons music Kass wants to listen again again again again Kass wants to touch Con Kass wants to please Con Kass loves Con Kass loves Cons music Kass loves Cons skin Kass wants to touch Con Kass wants to lick Con Kass wants to please Con Kass wants to touch Con Kass wants to worship Con Kass loves Con Kass loves Con Kass loves Con Kass wants to listen again again again again

[repeat]

***

Ko was in hysterics. It was chittering and wriggling so frantically that it couldn’t type, and Con finally grabbed its board and swatted it with it.

“What the hell are you talking about, Ko? For fuck’s sake, settle down and spit it out.”

It rattled away at the board, still twitching and chirruping with merriment, its typing erratic and requiring frequent corrections.

“KASS!!! HO HO HO MONKEY BOY! YOU NOT ONLY ONE SHE NOT LIKING! HEEHEEHEE!”

It convulsed and rolled about the countertop, its frantic skittering suggesting uncontrollable mirth.

“OUT ON STREET! OUT ON STREET SHE THROW KIMTOK! ALL HIM CLOTHING OUT THE WINDOW! HEEHEEHEE! ALL OVER STREET!”

Con stared. Kimtok was a Salariki pilot who sometimes worked freelance for the Merchant House. His liaisons with Kass were common knowledge, as were her encounters with several other Salariki. They were a casually sensual race.

“SQUALLINGS AND BITINGS! KIMTOK BIG SCRATCH DOWN HIM! HE SWEAR SHE CRAZY CAT. THROW SHE WINE ALL OVER HIM HEAD. CALL HIM NASTY HAIRY CREATURE!”

Con tried to laugh, feeling a tightening in his gut and a prickly creeping up his spine. “She poured her wine over his head? I thought she was doing him regular!”

Ko chittered and whipped its tail about, then clicked on the keys again. “SHE WAS! DO HIM EVERY PORT CALL! LOOK LIKE SHE NO DO HIM MORE. CON WATCH CHANCE, MAYBE SHE LONELY TONIGHT. JUST NO WINE BRING OR CON WEAR IT.” Ko giggled again, then stiffened, jerked its board onto its back, and skittered away at speed. Con looked up to see Kass approaching the desk.

She looked tired. Her green eyes were half-slitted, and her slightly curling mane was rumpled and straying around her neck. Her eyes met his and did not look away. They seemed dazed, tired … almost resigned. He felt his chest tighten. They remained, unspeaking, for several long seconds. At last he pulled himself together and fumbled the passcard for her office from its slot. Without looking away from her eyes, he held it out to her and felt her hand touch his. It jolted him like a current. He felt every detail of the scrape of her smooth claws, the rough pads of her fingers, the sleek tickle of the velvet fur edging the pads. Her hand drifted over his for an epochal moment, and her green eyes remained fixed on his, open … almost beseeching. As she drew the card from his hand, her claws raked slowly, lingeringly down his palm, then over his fingers to rest lightly on the tips for a long moment. She withdrew her hand, still meeting his gaze – then turned slowly and walked toward the corridor, moving wearily.

He watched. Later that day, he slipped a disk into her mailbox with a short note explaining that he hadn’t finished it by that morning. He had, of course, but he didn’t want to give her a chance to refuse the gift. Things were reaching the point where she might.

***

She lay in the embracing comfort of the chair, idly flicking through fleshplay channels on the screen. In the background the drumming played with a low throb. She’d put all four disks into the player and set them to repeat, listening to them as she paced restlessly through the house. She’d spent the early part of the evening in a flesh den near the port, trying to jolt her flagging libido with Twilek brandy and the expert caresses of a paid attendant. The bracing bodyrub had failed to stimulate her, however, and his fawning manner, so unnatural to a Salariki, had only disgusted her. It was revolting to see a member of her race so bereft of dignity. In the end, she stood abruptly and left when she found her eyes straying to a thinly clad human male serving a party of wolfish Gigorans.

******

She let the drumbeats wash over her body, soothing away the tension of the night. The broken images jittered over the screen, meaningless glimpses of naked beings flickering past as she jumped through the channels without registering any of them. She lifted the delicate balloon-shaped glass and drained the last of the brandy. She felt pleasantly disassociated, floating, drifting away from her troubles. She stretched and twitched her tail, feeling a warm langour creeping over her limbs. She sighed and flicked her claws slowly down her chest, dragging them lightly over the soft fur and arching her back. Her channel-jumping grew slower as she purred, dropping the glass to roll on the soft carpet and running her palm over a row of hardening nipples. She groaned, tail lashing, and flicked the topmost with a claw tip, then drew in her breath sharply and wriggled lower in her chair. Soon her hoarse, rhythmic breathing nearly drowned the music; the muted screen sat, unregarded, on a Salariki channel as she stroked both hands down her nipples and began to rub her thighs. She stretched out her legs, knocking the control to the floor, and ran the rough pads of her fingers up her thighs, higher, stroking, teasing, finding the center of pleasure and caressing it as her thunderous purr filled the room. The action on the screen paused; she tilted her head back, trembling on the edge, looking for release. She imaged Kimtok’s rough, pointed tongue; she stroked harder. She focused on the image of the kneeling Salariki at the port that night and hung, aching, body writhing for release. She stared at the screen, the taut young Salariki pair moving with luxurious ease. Still she throbbed on the edge of fulfillment. She tossed her head, growling, quivering with frustrated desire. She grabbed the control and flicked the channels three, four times – and paused on an image of an ursoid Gruth pleasuring a human male, kneeling before him and bobbing her head down the length of his pulsing shaft.

She came like a thunderbolt.

***

Kass needs Con Kass wants Con Kass loves Con Kass wants more of Cons music Kass wants more of Con Kass wants to touch wants to feel wants to please Con Kass wants to please Con Kass wants to touch Con Kass loves Con Kass trusts Con Kass loves Cons music Kass wants more music Kass wants more Con more Con more Con Kass wants to stroke Con lick Con kiss Con touch Con please Con worship Con adore Con be Cons be Cons be Cons Kass wants to be Cons Kass wants to be Cons Kass wants to kneel before Con kneel and adore Con love Con be Cons please Con please Con please Con love Con trust Con lick Con touch Con love Cons skin Cons face Cons hands Cons cock love Con

[repeat]

***

She was avoiding him. He was sure of it. She normally arrived a little after the main rush, choosing to avoid the crush of the morning crowd. But for the past three days she’d come right at the peak, at a time when he couldn’t do more than scramble up passcards as quickly as they were requested. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, either; twice she’d deliberately engaged someone in conversation in the lobby and walked with them to the desk, manufacturing an excuse to avoid looking at or speaking to him. She looked flustered and nervous, and skittered away as soon as she’d jerked the card from his hand as if trying to avoid any contact with his skin.

He couldn’t decide if it was a good sign or a bad sign. She was fighting it, he was sure. But was her agitation a sign that she was starting to cave in? He hesitated a day in indecision, trying to decide if another push would bring capitulation or disaster. At last he slid the disk into her mailbox without note or comment.

***

The com unit buzzed. It had been buzzing, on and off, for most of the day. She sighed, closed her eyes, and turned up the music, letting the drumbeats drown the summons and throb through her body. She lay, slumped, on a heap of luxurious cushions, sprawled semi-naked with a crystal decanter by her side. She tilted her head back to drain the last of the vibrant emerald wine from her goblet and then set it down, lifting the decanter and pouring unsteadily as she groaned and rubbed her face. She was clad only in the thinnest of gauze robes, open down the front, and she stroked her claws up and down the soft fur of her belly as she pulled the goblet to her and drank again. On the screen in front of her, three naked humans cavorted in crude but somehow fascinating sexplay. She peered at them muzzily and licked her whiskers with a pointed tongue.

Last night, while blind drunk, she’d finally allowed herself to search for a vid of a human and a Salariki. She could find no such thing, but eventually turned up one featuring a human male and a female Trianni, a huge, tigerish race from the west galaxy. The human had placed a thick leather collar on the Trianni’s neck and chained her hands behind her back, and apparently used a shock whip to enforce his commands. Kass watched the bound feline kneel to service the human’s shaft with her mouth, then lick over his body, nuzzling him obediently. She’d lapped his testicles and anus, then knelt, face grinding into the floor, as he entered her from behind. Kass had watched it three times through and had come to orgasm again and again. By the end, the throbbing of the drumbeats seemed almost to pulse through the waves of her pleasure.

Now, watching the three humans, she battled with herself. She wanted to watch the human and the Trianni again, but loathed herself for the perverse fascination. She sighed and eyed the decanter. It was nearly empty. She drank deeply from her goblet, then held it to the light. A few more swallows. A few more from the decanter. And then … she might forget herself and watch the vid again. She closed her eyes, feeling the wine drifting her far from reason, and flexed her claws as she slid her hands down to stroke her thighs again. The drumbeats thundered on.

***

Kass Kass Kass loves Con Kass loves Con wants more music needs more music needs to listen listen always listen to Cons music listen to Cons music love Con worship Con kneel before kneel and adore lick kiss suck touch feel rub love worship Con trust Con trust Con yield to Con yield to Con kneel to Con please Con obey Con worship Con desire Con want Con need Con need Con please Con love Con stroke Con rub Con lick Con kiss Con love Cons skin love Cons body love Cons cock love Cons cock love Cons cock want Con need Con worship Con adore Con submit to Con submit to Con submit

[repeat]

***

He was in agony. Had he pushed too far? He’d been concerned about the latest subliminals. She was still fighting it, but he had been afraid to wait any longer; she might overcome it and shake the whole thing off. Now she hadn’t been in for three days, and he was burning with curiosity and dread. What if he’d pushed her too hard? What if she’d done something … drastic? What if it wasn’t possible to change ideas so strongly ingrained in her? Maybe he’d done her some kind of terrible damage, really fucked her up. Maybe she just couldn’t handle the reversal of thought. He swore and pulled at his hair, mentally kicking himself. Fucking Dag and his smart ideas. It had been stupid from the start. He’d been screwing around with things he didn’t understand, and now he’d –

“Con.”

He looked up, startled. It was past midday; what was she doing in now?

“Ah, Meer Kass. I hope you’re, uh … feeling better?”

She nodded, looking weary but calm – much less nervous than when he last saw her. She seemed assured, but there was something underneath. He couldn’t read it.

“Much recovered, thank you, Con.” She seemed to linger on his name. He hoped so. She leaned forward over the counter. “I wanted to thank you, as well, for the music. It’s been quite a comfort while I was … ill.”

“That’s, um, really good to hear Meer Kass. I’m glad you’re feeling better. You, uh, need room five, corridor one?”

She eyed him. “Not this day. I need the passcard to the roof port. I believe I have clearance there.”

Con nodded, clicking quickly over the computer screen. “Yes, you do. But I don’t see any landings scheduled – “

“It is a departure. I leave shortly. It is time I went up.”

Con nodded, baffled. The screen read nothing on the pad. “I’ll take you up, then. Com me from the pad when you return.”

Kass nodded and waited as he secured the alcove. He struggled to make small talk, nonplussed at her strangely serene manner. She only smiled in response, sphinx-like, and waited for him to escort her to the elevator to the landing pad. The doors closed and the machinery hummed into action.

“OK, for security reasons we can’t give you the passcard from the pad to the main building, but once you log back from the flight, you just need to – uh!”

He stopped abruptly as Kass slapped at the pause switch of the elevator and pinned him against the wall with a hungry kiss. It was startling and amazing; her tongue, rough and soft, dipped into his mouth, licking and tasting him eagerly while her claws dug into the padded wall behind him with a soft ripping sound. She leaned there, a hand on either side of him over his head, body rubbing against his eagerly. It was taut, muscular, springy – he yanked himself out of his daze and grabbed her. Her fur was sleek, silky, erotic – just as he’d dreamed it. In seconds he was struggling with her robe, trying to raise the low hem, then finding the catches and opening it down the front. All the while she was leaning into him, licking into his mouth and nuzzling his lips. He groaned, feeling her thighs pressing against his own, her leg rubbing intently over his instant erection. He slid his hands into her robe, stroking his thumbs, with a feeling of disbelief, up the rows of nipples, four on each side, watching her arch and quiver as he touched them. They were dark, flat, close to the body, not at all like human breasts, but the feel of the silky fur around them spoke directly to his libido, and in a moment he had his tongue to one.

She purred, a deep rumble, then gave a long sigh that sounded like release from torment. She dipped her head and body, moving to bring her lips to his again, whiskers brushing his face as her tongue explored his mouth. Slowly she let herself slide down his body, claws dragging lightly down him as she nuzzled her way lower to kneel before him. He fought to keep control; the sight alone was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He stared down, watching her cloudy silver mane of flat, sleek curls flow over her neck as her hands moved over the fastenings of his coveralls. She nuzzled his crotch through the fabric as her hands worked at the catches, and he could hear the whimpering moan he gave as her long tongue curved up under his balls and then licked forward and up the length of his shaft, her warm breath sighing through the fabric. He yanked at the upper catches, wriggling violently in his haste to be rid of the material, and in a few moments struggled loose. An instant later he was leaning against the wall of the elevator, trembling and gasping as she took his shaft into her mouth and licked it hard. Her tongue was rougher, longer, and more agile than any human’s; his head swam, and he pushed at her gently, trying to gain a second or two of control before he lost it completely. He looked down as she slowly pulled back, and his cock twitched hard. She was kneeling before him, one hand on his shaft, her robe open down the front – the kind of thing he’d dreamed of. But her eyes were what made his blood boil. They were slitted in pleasure, deep pools of utter fulfillment, and their only desire was to please him.

He took a deep breath, then reached down to stroke her head and ears. She purred again, and he pressed his shaft forward a little. She smiled and stroked him gently, claws curving carefully under the shaft. She leaned forward and nuzzled her head under his length, tongue darting out to lick low and hungrily. He couldn’t help a groan of pleasure at the warm, rough stroke of her tongue combined with the sleek silky brush of her furred head against his cock. She lapped his balls gently, lingering over them, her tongue teasing and stroking until his knees felt ready to give way. Finally he found his voice and panted to her:

“Suck it, Kass. Please.”

Eyes slitting nearly closed with pleasure, she nodded and licked up the length of his shaft, reaching up with one hand to stroke and fondle his balls. When she reached the head of his cock, she licked it hard several times, quickly, then opened her mouth and slid it in. He felt a moment of panic at the sight of her sharp white teeth; then with a moan of pleasure he felt her envelope him to the hilt. Her tongue massaged the underside of his cock as she sucked softly and bobbed her head up and down the shaft. She licked and sucked with little tosses of her head, teeth well guarded as she worked him into her throat with hungry swallowing movements. Her paws pressed on his thighs and her claws pricked lightly at the skin as she nuzzled home. At last her cool nose nestled against his pubic hair, and her tongue lapped out suddenly to lick his balls again. He gripped her mane and hunched, wrapping himself around that amazing sensation, barely able to keep to his feet as he pulled back just a little and pushed into her mouth with the gentlest thrust he could manage.

She began to purr.

He shuddered and threw his head back, feeling the deep vibration throb through his cock and jolt up his spine as he dug his fingers into her mane. He thrust deep into her throat, cramming himself instinctively into her as his back arched and he knotted his hands in her fur. In a moment he was thrusting frantically, restraint forgotten as her purring shuddered through his loins and her tongue stroked him to ecstasy, her claws pricking his skin as she gripped his thighs and pulled him hungrily into her mouth. Finally he buried himself to the hilt and sobbed with pleasure as the orgasm wracked him. Kass purred and nuzzled through it, lapping him down eagerly as he throbbed against her warm, rough tongue.

When the rush finally subsided, he leaned against the wall, trembling, barely able to stand. Kass licked her whiskers clean and then lapped over his body, cleaning down his thighs and up his belly. With a last long, caressing lick she leaned back, still kneeling, and looked up to him. He saw the strange hopefulness in her eyes and shuddered, feeling a dreamlike haziness coming over him. He stroked her head and she leaned into his hand, rubbing against it like a pet cat. Con shakily gathered up his coveralls, getting back into them as he wondered how to proceed from there. Kass quietly fastened her robe, then stood, ruffling back her mane.

“Kass, I, uh … I don’t know what to say …”

She shook her head. “If you take what I give, you make me most happy.” She looked down a minute, then back up, curiously vulnerable. “Did I please you?”

Con groaned, letting his head thump back against the wall of the elevator. “Oh yeah. You pleased me.”

Kass nodded, then stood. She came to lean against him, licking softly at his neck. She was tall; she stooped to nuzzle him, but there was something delicately yielding in her gesture. She murmured softly in his ear.

“I will please you again …?”

Con ran his hands over her shoulders, up her neck as he kissed her.

“Again. Any time you want.”

Kass smiled.

***

Con fidgeted over his drink. He’d never noticed how seedy and dingy the bar was; he’d come here all of the time when he lived nearby in the grimy low-rent sectors. He sighed, toying with the stack of disks in front of him. That tiny bare room with its thin walls, its constant noise, its ground-in smell of loneliness and desperation – it was hard to see how he’d managed to stand it. Meer Kass’s villa was as sleek, warm, and delicious to the touch as her own taut body, a banquet for the senses. It was going to be hard to leave.

The last month had been incredible. He walked through work in a haze, barely noticing Ko’s astonished chitterings and the amused glances of the rest of the staff. His mind wasn’t on his tasks, but it hardly seemed to matter; he spent all day thinking about getting home to the villa and discovering new ways to make Kass’s body arch and purr against him. Not that they usually bothered to wait for evening – she’d called him to her office for “assistance” so often that it was a running joke in the halls. She didn’t seem to care, either. She’d been open enough in her liaisons with other Salariki – their culture attached no special shame to such encounters. But a human … he’d expected embarrassment, or at least secrecy. Instead, she sought him out with an open sensuality that was flattering in its deliberate transparency. Now every time he saw her Ko rattled off “KASS COME FOR SHE MONKEY BOY! TIME FOR FEED KITTY!” and laughed itself almost off of the desk. The other humans treated him with a mixture of admiration and envy, but mostly with good cheer. They were glad to see someone from down the ranks make it lucky big time.

He gulped his drink, then slammed the glass down. Damnit. It was good. But it needed to end. He felt like an idiot; he had exactly what he wanted. Kass was even talking about taking him on her next mission. With her behind him, he could finally be something better than a flunky-level desk jockey. He could get a start in the trade; he could work his way into an apprenticeship. Hell, Kass would take him without a question. She’d see him through. Then he’d have his own trophies to add to the exotic jewels, the shining sculptures, the intricate tapestries that graced the villa, relics from her trading missions to a thousand strange and beautiful worlds. He would have a place there – his own place.

But it wasn’t his place. Nothing would make it his place. And nothing would make her honestly his. It was time to admit it. He thought of her as he’d seen her that morning, wide green eyes gazing at him with frank desire and … love. He’d turned away from her, and he’d felt her hurt when he did. She wanted him. She wanted him in a way that no Salariki had any business wanting him, or anybody. She wanted to be his alone, and in her race exclusivity was practically an abnormality. She wasn’t just sleeping with him; she was staying with him, helping him, turning down every Salariki male in port to go home with a naked monkey. People were talking. And he couldn’t look her in the eye any more.

He shoved the glass away, straightening. Dag came in, glancing around for him. He waved, ordered them both a round as his friend pushed through the crowded bar.

“Nice choice.” Dag grimaced, wriggling past a pair of heavy-set Gruths to reach the bar. “Thought you were moving upmarket now. Couldn’t you spring for something a little cleaner?”

Dag glanced at Con, grinning – then let his smile fade as he saw his expression.

“Damn, Con, you look like shit. Get that drink inside of you.”

Con nodded, and both drank quietly. Dag glanced at him, but waited for him to speak in his own time. Finally, Con shoved the stack of disks at him.

“Look, I really appreciate you helping me. I just … I can’t use them any more.”

Dag blinked, surprised, then nodded slowly.

“Yeah. OK. Sorry they didn’t work out for you.”

“Oh, they worked. Fuck, they worked.”

Dag drew the disks slowly over to himself, eying them a little warily.

“Really?”

“Yeah. She just … everything. You have no idea.”

Dag toyed with the disks, watching Con’s troubled expression. “Wow. I didn’t really think they’d do it.”

Con nodded. “That semi-perceptible shit … it worked like hell.” He stared bleakly into his drink, then turned abruptly, pushing the words out fast.

“Look, stopping like this … it’s not gonna, you know … fuck her up or something, is it? I mean, not hearing those … things.”

******

Dag shook his head. “Shouldn’t. It’s just repetitive conditioning. It should wear off with time. How long, that’s anybody’s guess.” He turned a disk over in his fingers, then sighed and put the stack in his jacket pocket. He looked down at the table, feeling oddly ashamed.

“You, uh, might want to let her down easy. Let her decide to break things off.”

Con nodded. “Yeah. Her choice. All the way.”

They looked into their drinks, avoiding each others’ gaze. Dag downed his drink, then finally spoke.

“Look, Con, I’m sorry. I should’ve –“

“Yeah.” Con shook his head. “It not like I thought it would be. I mean – she’s not –“ He broke off, glancing guiltily at the door, and ducked his head.

“She’s here. I told her to meet me after work.”

Dag nodded, sympathetic. He raised his glass and touched it to Con’s.

“Fuck this. It was a stupid idea. I’ll melt the disks tonight.” He drank, then smiled with forced bravado. “So. Do I get to meet this walking goddess before she throws your ass out?”

Con nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, I’ll introduce you. She’s in the door, stopping traffic.” He glanced up wistfully at Kass’s lithe form.

Dag grinned and looked up. He blanched, then pulled Con back down as the tall gray-furred figure glanced searchingly past them.

“She’s a Salariki?” he hissed. “You never told me she was a Salariki!”

Con blushed. “Um. Sorry. I didn’t want you to think I was, uh, weird.”

Dag stared at him silently. Con blushed deeper.

“Look, I know it’s kind of strange, but she’s really great.”

Dag kept staring.

“Fuck you,” snapped Con, glaring back at him. “So I’m hot for a chick with fur. Like you’d turn it down.”

Dag smiled oddly as he took the disks out of his jacket pocket and slid them over the bar to Con. He shook his head.

“I’m not judging. If I thought I had a chance in hell, I’d be all over her. But didn’t you think about what we were doing? The semi-perceptible frequencies work because they’re just high enough to be heard and just low enough not to register in the conscious mind.”

Con scowled, still needled. “Yeah? So what? Spell it out. I’m a friggin’ desk monkey, not an audiologist.”

Dag’s smile lingered, a faint, surprised, self-amused smile. He tapped the disks gently as he spoke. “Didn’t it occur to you that different species hear differently?”

Con blinked. Dag nodded. “I see that it didn’t.”

Con groaned. “Oh, fuck, I am an idiot. Oh, what the – man, they hear like ten times better than humans, don’t they. I am so fucked.”

“You’re still breathing. There’s a chance she somehow missed it.” Dag shrugged, glancing over his shoulder toward the door “But – only one way to find out. Ask her.”

Con stared at him, starting to frame a denial – then bit off his words as a warm, strong hand closed on his shoulder. He looked up guiltily to find Kass smiling down.

“Good evening, Con.” Her purring tone as she lingered over his name and her sly green eyes, half-closed with pleasure, belied her formal greeting. He gulped and looked up, then with a start reached hurriedly but belatedly for the disks that lay on the bar. Kass stopped his hand with a rough-padded velvet paw.

“Mmmm, drummers. My favorites.” She turned the disks over curiously. “But Con, you will not give these away, will you?” She looked at him, puzzled – then slowly smiled, eyeing Dag with amusement and nodding as if suddenly seeing a joke.

“Ahhh. You too have ambitions. Con has told you of his success.” She smiled, eyes dancing mischievously. “I cannot promise that you will meet with equal fortune, but his approach was certainly … novel. I never met a human with such courage and cleverness, nor did I think to.” She stroked Con’s hair, smiling proudly.

“To marry the subservience of a human underling with the boldness of a Salariki male by speaking in one way with his person, and another under his music – one way when giving the gift, and another in the gift itself – I did not think that humans had such subtlety, or such boldness.” She grinned at Con, winking. “I will not be disturbed that you lend our disks to your friend. Perhaps another of my race will learn the inventiveness of humans. But you must have them returned. I would not wish to lose the records of your courtship; they are an art in themselves.”

Con sat, quietly stunned, as Dag grinned and pushed the disks toward him.

“Thank you, Meer Kass,” he replied. “But I have already learned all that I need from them.”

Kass smiled, scooping the disks into her belt pouch. “Then shall we leave, Con? I would linger with your friend, but there is much to do at home.” Her sultry gaze left little doubt of her intent as she leaned forward to nuzzle his ear playfully. As he fumbled to his feet, her whiskers brushed against him as she whispered softly –

“Kass loves Con.”

******

Additional Notes ( would have made the Intro. TOO long: ) …RE- posted here, withOUT permission, but ONLY because Black Shanglan disappeared from the erotic stories’ websites 12 years ago ( and sensual_sub_69 disappeared 8 3/4 years ago. ) Or I WOULD have asked permission from the author ( whichever one. )

Disclaimer: The text of this story has NOT been altered, or edited, in ANY way.

Only ******s have been added to indicate where the page breaks were – this was originally a three ( 3 ) page story on Literotica.com – [ NOTE: As opposed to ***s, which WERE originally in the story, mainly as POV ( Point of View ) changes indicators. ) ]

I originally read this story, and was blown away by it’s brilliance, on another erotic literature site – sexstoriespost.com. This story is also on Literotica.com, as mentioned above, under the “Nonhuman” Sex Stories catagory.

[ Don’t believe it’s a brilliant story? Read the comments about it at Literotica.com. At this writing there are fifty-five ( 55 ) comments, fifty-four ( 54 ) of which are positive ( MANY of which are RAVE reviews. ) ]

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