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From: Rachael Ross <rache696@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Misfits 13 by Rachael Ross (MFmf, SciFi, Aliens, Bisexual, Herm, TG, Incest, Oral, Anal, First)
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Date: Sun, 11 Jul 2010 08:10:02 -0400
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You tipped my cow!


      
<1st attachment, "misfits 13.txt" begin>

Misfits

   Copyright 2010 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.  Adults Only. 
rache696@yahoo.com

   Note: This story consists of 15 chapters.  Please see Chapter 1 for
details.

   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

   The Misfits

   Chapter Thirteen



   "Ambassador Windham," I said, looking around the room and there wasn't
much to see except her.  "You're comfortable, I trust?"

   "I would like my clothing back," she replied.  "Please."

   "We were looking all over for you, my Lady." I clucked my tongue.  "It
was quite the little goose chase."

   "When my father hears about this..."

   "Your father is a traitor to the Empire.  He can't help you now, I'm
afraid.  Nobody can."

   "What?" She looked genuinely surprised.  "Who are you?  What are you
saying?"

   I glanced at Helena and we both looked at the Chief Interrogator, a
warlock named Vryss.

   "I demand to speak with Lord Tristam!"

   "I haven't touched her, my Lord," Vryss said quickly.  "She's exactly as
she arrived."

   "This is an outrage.  You've overstepped your bounds this time, Lady
Helena!  When the Duchess returns..."

   "The ambassador's patience has limits," Helena observed, turning off the
microphones with a wave of her hand.

   We watched the woman continue to shout as she stared back at us through
the security veil.  The only daughter of Marquis de Windham had human
features, ten fingers and toes, amber eyes and a pert, upturned nose above
a generous mouth.  Around her attractive face, a thick mane of black and
white hair had been woven into a shaggy braid that she wore over the
shoulder and between her six breasts.  The pair on top were plump and her
distended nipples dripped thin, white milk onto a slightly smaller pair
directly beneath.  The lowest pair, just above the gentle swell of her
belly, were the smallest of all, the nipples long and red as if recently
chewed.

   All six of her mammeries were covered with fine, white fur forming an
elongated V from her shoulders to her sex.  Everywhere else the ambassador
wore a coat of shimmering black hair, thick and long across the shoulders
and down her back, shorter on her legs and arms.  Only her face, the palms
of her hands, and the soles of her feet were smooth, pink skin.  Her long,
shaggy tail had a sexy curlicue as it grew from the dimple just above her
well rounded ass and I rather admired the woman as she stalked about her
cell.

   "The ambassador doesn't seem to know I'm dead," I said.  "Where did you
find her?"

   "Nursing her brood in the Artisan District," Helena replied.  "Evidently
she's taken a paramour, a musician from Windham.  We have him in the next
cell."

   "She had children with this man?"

   "A litter of three," she said.  "Less than a week old.  They're being
looked after."

   "Her father won't be happy about that."

   "Neither will her husband," Helena said with a smile.  "She kept her
pregnancy a secret, or so it would seem."

   "Certainly secret from us.  Did you know she was pregnant?"

   "No.  I didn't."

   "I haven't seen her since Orion took his oath of office," I said,
rubbing my chin.

   "This is a strange business, my Lord.  If she'd known about the
assassination, she would have fled before Lady Preston arrived."

   "Her belly ripe with another man's pups?" I took a deep breath.  "A
woman might be tempted to take her chances..."

   "Lady Windham was never so clever," she disagreed.  "I believe she's
honestly confused.  She's been isolated with her lover, birthing her litter
and..."

   "And there's only one way to be sure," I decided, looking at Vryss. 
"Find out what she knows."

   "Her children?" Helena asked.

   "The other as well.  That musician of hers," I continued.  "Interrogate
them both and put her children in the crèche for now.  They're innocent
enough."

   "As you say, my Lord." The warlock bowed his head.

   "She's only nineteen." Helena pursed her lips and played her fingers
along the veil as she examined the ambassador's file.

   "Windham's renowned for its nepotism," I said.  "The Marquis should have
thought of that before trying to kill me."

   Inside the cell, an interrogation chair had grown out of the floor.  It
looked something like a dentist's chair, being large and comfortable.  A
dozen metallic tentacles cornered the ambassador and pulled her into their
cold embrace.  The woman would not be hurt at all; the process was quite
painless, or so I'd been assured in the past.  Physically, Lady Windham
would be unchanged, but for the inevitable damage to her neural pathways.
Interrogation, unlike a scan, probed the victim's subconscious and left no
thought, memory, or dream unturned.  It also left the subject with an
adolescent mind at best, one incapable of further development.

   "What of her household?" I asked, knowing they'd all been detained
within hours of the attempt on my life.  Only the ambassador had eluded
capture and now we knew why.

   "There's nothing to report," Helena replied.  "Thirty-two persons were
arrested and interrogated."

   "That many?" I looked at her and I hadn't enquired as to the details
until now.

   "Her staff of seventeen, twelve servants, and three slaves," she said.
"Aside from the usual political maneuvering, we found nothing to suggest a
direct attack by Windham."

   "Political maneuvering?" I smiled, watching as Vryss entered the cell
and began to work on the now docile ambassador.

   "Some bribery, blackmail, a plot to overthrow the Viceroy of Pax
Nethid..." Helena shrugged.  "The usual."

   "I'd like to overthrow the Viceroy myself," I snorted.  "Is it a good
plan?"

   "Workable," she agreed.  "I'm looking into it."

   "But nothing about killing me?"

   "No, my Lord."

   A hologram appeared, flashing jumbled images and symbols representing
alien thoughts that were incomprehensible to me.  The ambassador's brain
poured out its memories and the computers would have to churn the data into
something meaningful.  Vryss, being a warlock, was an empath and directed
the interrogation along emotional pathways, searching for motive.  Desire,
jealousy, love and hatred were easily detected and he would follow those
feelings like so many yellow brick roads.  When one line of investigation
would end, he'd move to another and the man was very good at his job.

   "She's worried about her father," he said softly.  "Afraid for him...Her
children?  No...Something else...Just an idea, very deep...Hmmm..."

   "Could the Marquis be innocent?" I wondered, for that seemed the most
obvious possibility.

   "If it's a coup, we should have heard from the conspirators before now,"
Helena said.  "They would be eager to blame the Marquis and enlist our aid
to overthrow him."

   "But we've heard nothing."

   "And all of our attempts to communicate directly with the Windham Sector
have been fruitless," she reminded me.  "The major shipping lanes have been
closed at their borders; your own commissioner has apparently been
detained."

   "We've lost all contact with the Exedra," I said with a frown, referring
to the space control ship detailed to Windham.  Such vessels were not
insignificant.

   "If the Marquis isn't behind this, the only possible explanation is that
he's already been deposed."

   "We would have heard something.  Over six hundred systems..." I looked
at her.  "One of the nobles would have reported a coup."

   "Unless they're all in on it," Helena said with a shrug, but we both
knew that to be extremely unlikely.

   "Someone always feels left out of the spoils."

   "And you can't hide a civil war," she said with a nod of agreement. 
"It's a strange, strange business."

   "As you've said."

   We watched Vryss for a moment, still muttering to himself as his
invisible scalpels sliced deeper into the ambassador's mind.

   "My Lord," Helena cleared her throat.  "We need to interrogate Lady
Preston."

   "She hasn't been erased?"

   "No."

   "Why not?" I frowned at her.  "I thought my instructions were clear."

   "Quite clear, my Lord, but we can't afford the missed opportunity."

   "There may be nothing there."

   "If you erase her, there will certainly be nothing there."

   "She's my daughter, I can't..." I took a deep breath.

   "Talis will do it, if you won't."

   "Ah..." I stared into Helena's eyes.  "That's why you delay."

   "I delay to give my Lord the opportunity to do his duty," she replied.
"The Council of Ministers doesn't understand this attachment of yours..."

   "They don't have to."

   "...and neither do I, William." She stared back at me.  "You've had many
children.  Lost many children.  What makes Lady Preston so special?"

   "Everything," I sighed.  "Jericho?"

   "My Lord?" the computer answered immediately.

   "Have Lady Preston erased immediately."

   "William..." Helena shook her head.

   "As you command, my Lord," Jericho replied.  "I have relayed your
order."

   "Thank you," I said, turning away from Helena.  "Have her brought to my
quarters once it's complete."

   "The renascent protocol?" she asked stiffly.

   "Level three," I decided, paused in the open doorway.  "Standardized,
nothing...personal."

   "Yes, my Lord."

   I left her unhappy with me and I'd have to tolerate one of Helena's
wintry moods for a day or two, but at least my daughter wouldn't be an
imbecile.

   Erasure emptied the mind, but didn't damage anything.  She could be
taught and her mental capabilities would evolve much like any child's,
albeit more quickly.  Lady Preston would be inquisitive, intelligent, and
eager to refill her pretty little head with new ideas.  Unlike the Lady
Windham who would find her prepubescent mind trapped in a woman's body, my
daughter would eventually be the equal of her previous self, although in no
way a duplicate.  She would never again know me as her father, but my love
made no such demands on the girl.  I only required her happiness.

   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

   The vessel has the traditional name Archduchy Cepheus in honor of her
ruler.  It may be easiest to imagine the capital ship a city floating in
space and in truth, that's the only way to think of it.  The size of Old
Tokyo with all its skyscrapers inside, the city has over ten million
inhabitants and all of them are busy.  Government is the largest employer
and provides the nucleus for all other good and services.  Schools,
factories, parks and playgrounds, the vast engineering levels, the
grandiose Duchess and her court, suburbs and offices, shops and
restaurants, hospitals, barracks, and everything exceptional and mundane
coexist within the smallest planet in the galaxy.

   "The ship doesn't move unless it has someplace to go," I explained to
Esya.  "It'll remain in orbit around earth for the next thirty years
probably, until we find the next planet to assimilate."

   "Is this what it's like, Master?" he asked and the boy couldn't stop
looking upward.

   "On earth?" I shrugged.  "In some places, I guess.  Not where I came
from though."

   We were in one of the vast atriums, perhaps three miles long and five
wide, arranged by streets and alleys into the sort of downtown any human
would have felt comfortable with.  The buildings were tall and beautiful,
made of glass and aluminum mostly, and brightly colored with holographic
advertisements.  This was the Merchant District, or one of them anyway, and
specialized in expensive rarities, exotic goods, and very personalized
services.

   "Do you like it?" I asked him.

   "I've never been here before," he said with a grin.  "It's wonderful,
Master."

   "Good."

   We followed a small phalanx of security guards and there were more
behind us.  The risk to my person was very small and most ordinary people
had no idea who they were passing on the busy street.  Being from earth and
wearing my uniform, the tunic and breeches with my sword at my side, I got
some curious looks.  On the whole, however, the citizens were as
cosmopolitan as one might expect them to be.  The unusual was usual and the
ship - the city - served as a crossroads for a thousand different races.

   Pretty Esya, with his fair blue skin, silver hair and eyes, attracted
only the attention demanded by his delightful presence.  That the boy
seemed so completely unaware of his effect on others only made him that
much more desirable, at least to me.  I'd dressed him in a long, silk
camisole, white with lace trim and falling to mid thigh.  I hadn't bothered
finding him something to wear beneath it, of course, but I'd given Esya a
royal blue pelisse.  A sleeveless cloak worn around his slender shoulders,
it seemed to waft behind him like a shadow.  With his pink rubber go-go
boots, I thought he looked quite fashionable...If only he'd stop looking up
like a tourist.

   "We'll have to cure you of that," I decided with a chuckle and he
blushed sweetly, having no idea what I meant.

   I liked that about him, how he could contain his curiosity, and I
planned to put it to good use.

   "In here," I said, leading him through a glass doorway and the gentechs
were already waiting.

   "My Lord," a very human looking woman said, smiling and bowing
gracefully.  "We've been looking forward to your visit.  I'm Queyla.  May I
offer you refreshments?"

   "Thank you, Queyla," I agreed and we soon found ourselves comfortably
seated in a private, circular showroom.

   A long sofa hugged the wall around a lighted stage in the center of the
room.  Esya had been undressed and placed upon it by several assistants, a
human boy and girl by the looks of them, but of course they weren't human
at all.  Neither was Queyla, but being in orbit around earth, I suppose it
made good business sense to advertise the firm's skills.  New planets,
especially the ones populated with humanoids, were always popular.  New
food, fashion, art...

   The Empire was not a realm of mindless automatons moving mechanically
through their tedious lives.  Expansion created, indeed necessitated, the
vigor of youthful endeavor.  The state survived not by force of arms or a
rigorous system of control, but rather by giving its people what they most
wanted: security, opportunity, and entertainment.  So long as the Imperial
citizen had those three things, we were a collective immune to decay.  On
earth it had been called life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and
for the moment humanity imagined itself deprived of those rights, but not
for long.
"I want him taller," I said.  "Say...Sixty-seven inches, but slim like

he is now.  About 112 pounds I think, that's a good number."

   "We'll worry about his weight last," Queyla wrinkled her nose.  "Will
this be permanent or temporary?"

   "Permanent."

   "You won't be able to modify the species type permanently."

   "That's fine," I said.  "I like Eyasians."

   "As do we, my Lord," she said with a smile, crossing one long, tanned
leg over the other beneath her nylon miniskirt.  "They have the most
marvelous DNA, very friendly genes."

   "I'll take your word for it." I sipped my tea and enjoyed the way her
hazel eyes seemed to glitter beneath her thick, auburn hair.

   "You can take anything of mine you want," Queyla replied and I widened
my eyes.  "Now, what do you really want to do with him?"

   "Breasts," I told her.  "I want him to look like a woman, but keep his
penis and testicles."

   "Hmmm...Sounds like fun," she said.  "Tell me when to stop."

   Esya giggled nervously as his flat chest began to expand with budding
breasts.  They were small at first, but growing in size and shape the way a
real girl's would develop over her adolescence.  It was all an illusion of
course, a hologram painted over the boy's body, just as our senses were
fooled by his newfound height.  So long as he remained on the stage, or
palette as it was called, we'd be able to see exactly what Esya would look
like when they performed the actual modifications.

   "There," I said.  "Those look nice."

   "Hmmm...34C cups according to the computer," Queyla said with a smile.
"Strange way to measure a person, isn't it.  Are they firm enough?  Do you
like his nipples?"

   "Larger," I decided.  "Give him fat, puffy nipples...Yeah.  Like
that...Pointing upward just...Perfect!"

   "Nice," she agreed.  "You have an artistic eye, my Lord."

   "Nah," I said with a grin.  "I just know a slut when I see one."

   "Do you?" She grinned back at me, posing with her own rather spectacular
tits straining against her blouse.

   "Would I ever lie to you, Queyla?"

   "I'm not sure yet," she sighed, tilting her head with a smile.  "Would
you?"

   "I won't pull out," I told her.  "And I'll definitely cum in your
mouth."

   "Ah!  But will you still respect me in the morning, my Lord?"

   "I don't respect you right now, slut."

   "Am I blushing?" she asked.  "I can't tell."

   "Me neither," I sighed.  "Let's assume you're not."

   "Why?M"

   "Because I hate being wrong."

   "Don't we all," Queyla said with a musical laugh.  "What else would you
like us to do to your...Slave is he?"

   "Give him legs from hell," I said and when she narrowed her eyes, "Legs
like yours...except blue."

   "Ah!  Legs from hell," she agreed, taking the opportunity to uncross and
re-cross hers slowly.  "I'll have to remember that.  Colloquialisms are
always difficult with a new language."

   "And hips," I told her, watching as Esya's thighs and calves became
those of a very well-toned young woman.  "Narrow, but nice and round.  Soft
hips to go with his ass; I really want to see some wiggle out of the
whore."

   "Would you like to see him walk around?"

   "Yeah.  Put some shoes on his feet."

   "High heels?  Of course, my Lord."

   A hologram of Esya appeared, naked but for a pair of 3" fuck me pumps,
and the apparition walked around the stage for us.  He stood nearly six
feet tall in those shoes, his legs being somewhat longer than I'd
originally had in mind, but that was okay.  The boy had an amazing body,
with those full tits jutting outward and topped by a pair of fat, pink
nipples begging to be eaten.  He had a flat tummy and non-existent waist...

   "Eighteen inches," Queyla informed me.  "With thirty-one inch hips."

   ...Long, smooth legs with shapely thighs and artichoke calves, small
feet with cute little toes curling as Esya's ghost strutted about.  His
cock wagged in front of him and then grew erect before my eyes.  Queyla
smiled, watching my reaction as that blue penis grew thick and long.  The
foreskin stretched tightly around the pink glans as it was revealed and the
boy's balls swing low between his thighs.  He had the wiggle part down, his
deliciously round ass rolling left and right with every deliberate step he
took.

   "Is this what you had in mind, my Lord?"

   "Yeah," I breathed, reaching for my crotch and rubbing my own swollen
erection.  "That's exactly what I want."

   "Eyes?  Hair?  His facial structure?"

   "No, I like the way he looks now, but..." I tilted my head.  "Give him a
skin job and..."

   "A level two dermal reconstruction?"

   "...I want to inhibit his aging as much as possible."

   "Geriatrophy is expensive, my Lord," she reminded me.  "And the results
are not always predictable."

   "I understand.  Thank you."

   "Very well." Queyla nodded and made the necessary notations.  "If I may
beg your indulgence, the final cost will be..."

   "Unimportant." I looked at her.  "Suck me off and we'll call it a deal."

   We looked at each other for a long moment before a smile crept over her
face and she nodded.

   "Very well.  If that's what I have to do to make a sale..." she sighed
theatrically.

   "On second thought..." I took a deep breath and looked down at her
crotch, the taut V of her skirt.  "I'll probably need a fuck too, just to
be sure."

   "I understand completely, my Lord." Queyla uncrossed her legs and stood
up from the sofa.  "Such decisions shouldn't be made lightly."

   "Get on your knees, whore."

   "You don't want me to undress?"

   "No." I shook my head.  "I like fucking a girl with her clothes on."

   "I believe you," she said with a giggle, sinking to her knees on the
plush carpeting.

   "Sit over here and play with yourself, Esya." I pointed at the sofa
behind Queyla.  "You can watch us."

   "Thank you, Master," the boy replied, stepping off the palette and
looking like his normal self again.

   That disappointed me, but only slightly as the hologram continued its
endless rounds, prancing about the room for an audience of one.  I wasn't
very attentive, however, not with lovely Queyla opening my breeches and
pulling my erection free with her nimble fingers.  I had no idea what race
she might have been before taking human form and it didn't really matter.
She'd lifted her guise from a magazine, I thought, because she did look
very familiar.  One of those supermodel sluts selling lipstick or
Victoria's Secret underwear, that's who she was, and now the bitch gave me
her lustrous eyes as she opened her mouth.

   "Are you really a slut?" I wondered, holding her hair out of her face as
she washed me with her tongue.  "Or just some royal groupie who wants
bragging rights?"

   "Ummph?" Queyla widened her eyes.

   "Yeah.  You know," I continued.  "Telling all your friends how your cunt
sucked my dick?  That's what you're into, right?"

   "Hmmmph..." She shrugged and I laughed, pushing her down until she
gagged on the head of my penis.

   "And I'm gonna forget about you ten minutes after I walk out the door,"
I told her, holding the slut's head down with both hands as she coughed
around it.

   "Nnmph umph mmph!"

   Her hands slapped my thighs and I could feel her tongue and the soft
entrance to her throat quivering.  She had to swallow sometime and I felt
it when she did.  Queyla's throat opened and I pushed harder, ignoring her
teeth as they scraped along the shaft, and her nose flattened in my pubic
hair as I entered her esophagus with my prick.

   "That's it, cocksucker," I breathed.  "You don't have to be shy with me.
Choke it down, bitch...Ten seconds."

   "Gnnmph!" She tried shaking her head, but that only felt good, just like
her fingernails as they dug into my thighs.

   "Five more, Queyla...Three...two...one...Ahhh!"

   "Mwaammmph!" She pulled off my cock with a loud gasp and a flood of spit
and precum spilling down her chin and neck.

   "Do it again," I told her.  "By yourself this time."

   "You're an asshole..." she breathed, licking around her lips and staring
at me with wet, injured eyes, "...my Lord."

   "Look!" I wiggled my fingers in the air.  "No hands!  Stop your whining
and suck it, bitch."

   She looked like she wanted to say something else, but I guess she
changed her mind because Queyla went down like the fuckin' Titanic.  Except
for having no real idea how to deep throat a cock, she wasn't a bad little
facefuck.  Nowhere near Esya's league, of course, and don't even think
about Marcia or Bambi!  They had cunts for mouths, just like the fuckholes
between their legs, and getting head from one of those two sluts left a guy
feeling upside down and inside out.

   But Queyla wasn't gonna be the sore loser in the cock eating contest,
she managed to open up and take me deep all by herself.  Of course, the
bitch wanted to panic as soon as she couldn't breathe, so I had to give her
a little help.  I dug my fingers in her rich, auburn hair and made sure she
had every last inch of my prick between her bruised lips.  I'd count out
loud for her too.  Ten seconds, that's all I asked for, and I think she
appreciated it.

   I know Esya did.  The blue minx sat there stroking his dick and playing
with his balls, giggling happily while I fucked Queyla's face.  He probably
had a nice view of her pussy too, considering the way she had to bend over
and how that short mini-skirt rode halfway up her ass.  The slut didn't
wear panties either and I could see the deep cleavage between her tanned
butt cheeks.  They looked like a couple of tits from my angle and I felt
the temptation to let Esya fuck her, but he'd pump a pint of cum into the
bitch for sure.

   I didn't mind sloppy seconds as a general rule, but I'd long since
learned never to jump into a cunt after one of those blue fuckers had
nailed her.  They all had huge cocks and it would probably be a lot like
fucking a bathtub full of seawater by the time he was done with her.

   "You can have her ass," I told him.  "Go ahead and give the whore an
enema."

   "You mean..." The boy gave me a curious look and he could be so literal
sometimes.

   "I mean, fuck her in the ass," I told him with a grin.  "Chop-chop!  She
wants it bad, faggot!"

   "Umph nmmph!" Queyla tried to say something around my dick, but that's
about the time I'd decided to get into her throat again.

   "Shut-up and swallow, cunt.  You don't have to beg," I promised.  "We're
gonna be fucking you all morning."

   I lifted my hips and pulled her down, figuring I'd make sure she had
something else to think about while Esya pushed his cock into her asshole.
This chick had to be a virgin in the butt fucking department, I figured,
but maybe not.  I was still trying to decide if Queyla was a real slut, or
just a poseur looking for some noble dick.  Either way, it wasn't going to
make any difference.  She'd wanted to play games and flirt and be the
slutty salesgirl, just like those silly bitches at the mall back home. 
They were always older though and went for the college guys mostly, leaving
me with a hard dick as I tried to pick up a slut at the arcade,

   When I got one, I liked to pretend she was somebody's little sister. 
Like Sophie, the blonde whore that worked in the music store.  I'd always
wanted to fuck her so badly and she'd lean over the counter with her blouse
unbuttoned to her belly button for a hot college guy.  What as slut!  But
me being just fifteen back then, she totally blew me off and I'd go looking
for a blonde seventh grader I could sweet talk into the boy's bathroom at
Sears.  She'd be all giggly and scared and asking me what we were doing. 
As if she didn't know?  Yeah right!  Actually, I only fucked three girls in
the Sears bathroom, and one was Marcia, so she didn't count, but the other
two looked just like that cunt in the record store.

   I really hoped one of them was Sophie's little sister, especially the
one whose face I pushed into the toilet when I popped her cherry.  Fuck! 
That whore wouldn't stop screaming!  So I let her blow some bubbles and
flushed a bunch of times just so she could catch her breath.  I don't think
she'd been a real virgin anyway though, since there hadn't been hardly any
blood at all or anything.  Sluts lie all the time too, everybody knows
that.

   "Unnmph!" Queyla jerked as Esya began stretching her anus with his
erection, wagging her ass like the whore wanted to get away or something.

   "Like that, baby?" I asked, holding her hair with both fists and working
her slack mouth up and down my straining prick.  "What's Queyla mean
anyway? Is that alien for pocket pussy?"

   Esya gave me a funny look and I grinned at him.

   "What are you doing, faggot?  Nail her ass!" I told him.  "Don't worry,
this bitch ain't going anywhere."

   "Y-Yes Master," he said, nodding and holding her hips as he worked his
cock deeper into Queyla's rectum.

   "She likes it.  Don't you, whore?" I pulled her all the way down,
forcing her throat open as she choked on it.

   "Ungmmph!" she replied with a shudder and I could feel those delicate
throat muscles rippling as she tried to push my dick out of her esophagus.

   "Fuck yeah!" I chuckled, yanking her head left and right with her face
pressed against my stomach and my balls against her chin.

   Stupid Sophie.  It had been her fault anyway.  All she'd had to do was
show me her tits, maybe jerk me off behind the counter or something, and
I'd have been happy.  Selfish cunt.  I had half a mind to track her down
and make her a breeder just for fun.  Like Queyla.  She wasn't a real
genetics technician, just the sales slut who sold the modifications.  A
minimum wage salesgirl flirting with the customers.  How much could she be
worth?  I'd turn her into a fucking...Fuck.

   What was I doing?  I frowned, relaxing my hands and letting Queyla jerk
her head upward, wincing as she caught me with her teeth again.  She had
red, puffy eyes and wet cheeks, a bright pink face, and swollen lips
dripping spit as she heaved for air.  Esya knelt behind her, fucking her
asshole nice and slow, being gentle because that's the sort of sweet faggot
he had to be.  It probably felt good for her, being ass fucked for the very
first time by a homo who knew how to do it.  He had a nice prick for it
too, kind of long, but not too thick, and hard as steel when he pushed it
deep.  I could feel my own asshole pucker at the memories and I shook my
head.

   It was like this sometimes, struggling to remember exactly who I was
with all my memories jumbled together.  All my desires as well.  Billy
wanted to abuse this stupid whore.  I wanted to fuck her throat until she
puked on my dick and then make her lick it off.  Faggot wanted me to get on
my knees for Esya's beautiful dick, maybe suck Queyla's cunt just to
apologize for me being such a jerk.  Tristam was the worst though!  He
wanted me to act like a Lord Admiral and fuck the girl, but in a nice way.
A polite way.  He wanted to leave her happy and satisfied and praying that
I'd call her the next morning, send her some flowers maybe just to say,
"Thank you for all your help, Queyla.  Fondly yours, William."

   Fucking voices in my head!

   "Are you okay?" I asked, stroking Queyla's cheeks with my thumbs.

   "My throat hurts," she whispered, giving me a frown.

   "I know," I sighed.  "I'm sorry.  You just got me too excited, that's
all.  You're so beautiful, you know that?"

   "Wha...What?  Ugh...Ow!" She glanced over her shoulder at Esya and he
offered her an apologetic smile.

   "Totally, amazingly beautiful," I said.  "Come here...Up a
little...Yeah..."

   I kissed her, or maybe faggot was kissing her, I couldn't really tell.
It seemed like one of those sorts of kisses though, tender and full of
compassion.  My tongue caressed hers lightly at first, inviting Queyla to
kiss me back.  We shared a deep, meaningful kiss.  I wasn't really sure
what it meant either, except I was swallowing my own precum probably.  A
hot, romantic sort of kiss, that's what we shared, and all the while Esya
slid his dripping cock back and forth inside the girl's rectum, making her
body rock in time with his thrusts.  They both knelt upright, the boy's
chest against her back, his hands playing with her tits through her blouse.

   Queyla's tears had dried up and she wasn't frowning anymore.  She rolled
her hips, pushing her ass back to meet Esya's pelvis with a damp slapping
sound.  He kissed her shoulders and hair while we caught our breath, our
open mouths close enough so our lips were touching.  Her hazel eyes shone
with a peculiar light and I felt myself falling into them as I explored her
hips with my fingers, feeling her flesh undulate with the pleasure of being
kissed and fucked and held by two boys at the same time.

   "I'm sorry I didn't suck it better," she breathed.  "You scared me."

   "I'm sorry too," I whispered, kissing her again and this time our
tongues moved quickly, almost frantically as her arms went around my neck.

   My swollen cock pressed against her tummy, staining her blouse and I
moved awkwardly, all of us did, making room so I could slide off the sofa.
I knelt on the carpet with them, and reached down to bring my throbbing
erection to Queyla's humid sex.  I had to let myself down until I sat on my
heels and point my cock nearly straight up, sliding it against Esya's penis
where it pierced her sphincter.  I found the mouth of her pussy small and
tight, not virginal, but crowded with the cock pumping her ass.

   Esya paused his fucking long enough for me to wedge the head of my dick
between Queyla's plump labia and push it inside her cunt.  She gasped and I
groaned, both of us feeling the pressure, and I couldn't decide if it felt
completely awesome or exceptionally uncomfortable.  A little bit of both
maybe as her reluctant pussy tried to keep me out, but then Esya moved,
pulling back or pushing deeper, I wasn't sure.  He did something and I had
a little more room, and with a sudden rush of pleasure my cock impaled the
woman's hot vagina to the core.  I felt the head of my dick touch bottom
and it was beautiful.

   "Ohhh..." Queyla blinked at me and then smiled, nodding her head as I
began to short stroke her tight cunt.  "Okay...Okay...Uh-huh...That's
good."

   "Good for me too," I breathed, kissing her mouth and reaching completely
around the girl so I could grab Esya and hug them both.

   We double teamed Queyla for ten minutes probably and the only reason we
stopped was because I came.  I didn't want to, but her pussy felt too snug
and warm and sweet and the sensation of Esya's cock sliding back and forth
became too much of a good thing.  Our cocks were rubbing against each other
with only a thin wall of flesh between us.  Queyla's flesh.  At least we'd
brought her off before I'd spilled my load deep in her pussy.  She came
lights out too, quivering and kissing my face all over, bouncing up and
down on her knees like the Energizer bunny.

   That girl could fuck!

   Her cunt clamped down on my dick and I can only imagine how it must have
felt for my blue slave boy.  Esya did some grunting and groaning himself,
closing his eyes as Queyla rode both of our cocks at the sme time.  We had
her sandwiched with both of our arms around her, my hands gripping Esya's
shoulders while his hands roamed up and down my sides.  Queyla's tits were
flattened against my chest and we were both still dressed, mostly.  I had
my tunic on and she'd only pulled her miniskirt up around her waist.  I
wished we were naked and in a bed together, that would have been pretty
awesome.

   But then I started cumming, pumping my human sperm inside her horny hole
as if my life depended on it.  I sucked on her tongue and teased it with my
own, letting Queyla fuck my mouth the way faggot always liked it.  My balls
emptied with a half a dozen strong spurts and then the slow, weaker ones
that just sorta dribbled the last of my load into her steamy sex.  I wanted
to stay hard and fuck her some more, but my dick began to soften and her
pussy was still too tight with Esya pounding her asshole.

   He wanted to get off too and those blue people fuck like porn stars! 
The boy must have drilled her ass for another five minutes before uncorking
a pint of thin semen into her bowels.  I didn't have a measuring cup handy
or anything, but I saw the look on Queyla's face and I'd experienced Esya's
orgasms before anyway.  Like pissing lavender semen into her asshole, he
didn't stop until he was empty and I'd have figured the girl would know
that about Eyasians, but apparently she'd never had one for a customer
before.

   "He's still cumming!" she said with a giggle, looking up at me from her
hands and knees.  "He's not stopping!"

   "I know," I replied.  "It's pretty weird."

   And that seemed to sum up the situation perfectly,

   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

   "What are you talking about?" I panted, trying to hold back my orgasm.
"Oh!  Uhhh..."

   Srah pulled on my cock with one hand while she fondled my balls with the
other, holding just the glans between her taut lips.  My cum burst across
her wriggling tongue with rapid spurts and she didn't swallow right away,
but let the semen fill her mouth.  She'd been complaining of an upset tummy
and human sperm seemed to help her egg sickness.

   "She's not sick," Marcia pouted and Bambi nodded her head in agreement.

   "Little brown faker," she said.

   "Shush," I gasped, blinking at Helena from my pillow.  "We lost a ship?"

   "Actually, we lost three frigates, a destroyer, and the battle cruiser
Meelix," Helena replied, ignoring Srah.

   The sexy brown hermaphrodite leaned back, licking her lips and stroking
her own rather stiff, uncircumcised erection.  She'd just swallowed my
second load in less than an hour and this harem business could be hard on a
guy's balls!

   "Where?" Ransom asked, walking into the seraglio and frowning as he
stepped over a sleeping Troy.

   "My Lord," Esya whispered, holding a towel draped over one arm and a
scarlet robe over the other.

   "The Spencer Rift," Colonel Prouel replied and I hadn't realized she'd
been standing there.  She must have entered the room with Helena.

   "Thank you, Esya," I said, taking my robe and waving the boy away. 
"Report, Colonel."

   "The 212th Battle Squadron was attached to Seventh Fleet," she reminded
me.  "We sent it on a reconnaissance mission to the Spencer Rift..."

   "Yes, yes." I nodded impatiently.  "Yesterday, I know.  What happened?"

   "Shortly after jumping, they received a distress call from our listening
post near the Rift..."

   "Give us a chart," Ransom ordered and a holographic display appeared. 
"Highlight the Spencer Rift...Which listening post?"

   "Aerie-619," the colonel said, illuminating the space station's position
on the three dimensional map.  "The squadron approached along this bearing,
azimuth one-thirty and vented darkspace here.  Sensors reported a single
large ship transiting towards the rift at C point four."

   "The station?" I asked her.

   "Already destroyed by the time the squadron arrived," Prouel said.  "The
alien craft was attempting to exit the system and jump away."

   "Jump?  There's nothing out there," Ransom snorted.  "It's the edge of
the galaxy."

   "You said alien?" I narrowed my eyes.  "Whose ship was it?"

   "It has to be Windham's," Helena said.  "But unlike anything we've ever
seen before..."

   "We're still working on that," Colonel Prouel cut her off.  "It deployed
three smaller craft, a light cruiser and two destroyers judging from the
available data."

   "It was a mothership?" I asked.

   "A combatant as well," she replied.  "All four of the alien craft
engaged the squadron.  They used weapons of unusual capability."

   "What sort of weapons?"

   "Some sort of graviton emission, creating a rapid flux of
attraction-repulsion affecting the structural integrity of the target."

   "You mean they shook our ships apart?"

   "Ion shields were only partially effective, my Lord." The colonel
shrugged.  "The scientist are going over the data right now."

   "How much information do we have?"

   "Meelix jettisoned its logs shortly before it was destroyed," she
reported.  "The Rift is eight hundred light years away, which is why it
took so long to recover it."

   "You have the battle logs?" Ransom asked.

   "They're being loaded," she agreed.  "We'll have a full replay in
another hour.  We do know that the enemy light cruiser and at least one
destroyer were heavily damaged, the other I'm not sure about."

   "Damage to the mothership?"

   "Unknown," she said.  "It was able to displace itself, probably using
their graviton technology."

   "Displace?" Ransom frowned.

   "Jumping," Prouel said.  "Apparently within definable limits, but we
won't know for certain until the logs are completely analyzed."

   "There was no communication between the enemy and our squadron," Helena
interjected.  "They attacked the listening post without provocation or
warning."

   "Attacked the Empire, you mean." Ransom almost smiled.  "Windham's got
balls; I'll say that much for the old bugger."

   "I'm surprised they didn't attack when he tried to have me killed," I
said.  "What were they waiting for?"

   "Windham probably wanted to gauge our reaction." Helena shrugged.

   "And you said this mothership was moving towards the rift?" I asked
Prouel and she nodded.

   "Probably exiting the system towards whatever it is Windham's
constructed on the other side of the nebula," Ransom offered.

   "Perhaps," the colonel replied, "but the energy readings taken by the
Meelix were extreme.  We're still looking at the data."

   "So they could have been preparing a jump," Helena said and we all
looked at her.

   "A jump to where?" Ransom still didn't like that idea and it made very
little sense.  Why exit the system just to jump back into it?

   ==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

   "Flying saucers?" I snorted.  "You've got to be kidding me."

   "Uh...No, my Lord," General Kreuz narrowed his eyes.  "They are disk
shaped."

   My reaction confused most of the General Staff, but none of them were
human either.

   "Never mind," I said, waving my hand.  "Play it again."

   The battle had been recorded in a variety of ways by the Meelix, but the
external visual record was the one I found most interesting.  It played
side-by-side with a graphic representation of all the ships on a three
dimensional star chart.  The mothership had been running for the Rift,
changed course when it detected the approaching squadron, and launched
three smaller ships.  For the moment they were classified two destroyers
and a light cruiser based on their relative size, maneuverability, and
apparent weaponry.

   "How did they launch?"

   "Displacement technology," a colonel from Research answered.  "Similar
to our transport system, but obviously far more capable."

   "They're not using wormholes like we do," a civilian spoke up.  "All the
evidence suggests they've been able to harness gravitons for both weapons
and propulsion."

   "The smaller ships don't seem to be displacement capable," the colonel
continued.  "The mothership made frequent use of the technology to its
tactical advantage."

   "Meson and plasma weapons were only thirty percent effective against the
alien defense systems..."

   "They used shields?" I asked.

   "No, my Lord," the civilian said.  "They were able to absorb the energy.
As you can see from the sensor readings, whenever they took energy fire
there's a significant rise in their power generation systems."

   "We believe they store the received energy in some sort of battery or
capacitor array."

   "So they're able to use our weapons against us?" I frowned at that news.

   "Only partially and only the energy weapons," the colonel replied. 
"Kinetic weapons were much more effective.  The Meexis hit the light
cruiser with a full salvo from her main batteries and as you can see..."

   We watched the hologram as twelve magnetic rail cannons fired at once.
The warheads had been accelerated to near light speed and the resulting
explosions tore half the alien ship away with a blinding flash of light. 
The saucer tilted crazily as it vented gasses into space, and then
disappeared with an odd shimmering effect like a mirage.

   "The mothership recovered the vessel," the colonel explained, not adding
that the huge vessel had opened fire on one of our frigates at the same
time and completely obliterated it.

   The two alien destroyers took another frigate apart before the cannons
were ready to fire again.  Mag cannons are a devastating weapon, but only
the largest ships are capable of carrying them.  They require nearly a
minute to accelerate the surprisingly small rounds they fire.  Each shell
weighs less than thirty pounds, but once accelerated to extreme velocity,
the kinetic energy turns each of those modest projectiles into something
like thirty tons of high explosive.  In a tactical engagement, however, a
minute can be a lifetime.  The battle cruiser got one more salvo off just
as the mother ship displaced.

   It reappeared a split-second later, 150,000 kilometers away from its
former location and in a perfect firing position off the battle cruiser's
left flank.  It must have taken some time to reorient itself, perhaps
establishing a new firing solution, because it waited eight full seconds
before unleashing hell.  The graviton attractor-repulsor beams were nearly
invisible, but they did create a noticeable disruption of space.  The stars
seemed to tremble, almost twinkling the way they do when seen through
earth's atmosphere, and then the hologram ended.  The Meelix had been
destroyed, her automated logs jettisoned into darkspace.  Some seventeen
hours later they vented darkspace just beyond the orbit of Jupiter and were
recovered by the admiralty.

   "We're unable to confirm with absolute certainty who attacked us," Field
Marshall Thrane spoke up.  "We've never seen ships like that before."

   "Windham couldn't have developed graviton technology so quickly," a
scientist told us.  "The technical application would require significant
breakthroughs in a number of related fields."

   "Not to mention the manufacturing requirements," one of his colleagues
agreed.

   "The information we were able to get from the Windham Ambassador wasn't
encouraging," Helena said.  "Neither she nor her staff were aware of any
plans for secession."

   "Well..." I took a deep breath and looked around the crowded room. 
"We're at war with someone.  Who is it?"

   "It's got to be Windham," General Kreuz said, drawing a look from Lord
Chasse.  "Right?  Who else could it be?"

   "Perhaps," the Interior Minister replied cautiously.  "We're efforting
that possibility as we speak."

   "Great." I frowned at the man.  "This isn't some brand new system we've
just discovered.  It's fucking Windham!"

   "My Lord..."

   "It's been a part of the Empire for a thousand years," I reminded him.
"We lost a squadron!"

   "Lord Admiral, perhaps..." Field Marshal Thrane cleared his throat.

   "Perhaps someone in this room can tell me this..." I looked around
slowly.  "Are you incompetent or merely lazy?"

   "My Lord, please." Helena whispered, touching my sleeve.

   "Because if you're lazy, I can fix that," I continued.  "But there's
only one cure for incompetence..."

   "Thank you, my Lords," Helena said, tugging at my arm.  "That will be
all for today."

   "Do you hear me?" I slapped the table.  "I'll have you all interrogated!
Traitors!  I'll have you executed!"

   "This way," Ransom said and the giant had taken my other arm, gently but
firmly.

   I followed dumbly, for the moment being too shocked to say anything
further and I think everyone else felt much the same.  I hadn't really
meant to say that.

   =-=-=-=-=-=-==--==-=-===-=-

   "I think I'm going crazy," I whispered.

   "Noooo..." Marcia sighed, straddling my hips with her knees and riding
my cock slowly, gently up and down.

   She massaged my temples with her fingertips while I lay on my bed,
watching her gorgeous tits rise and fall.  She used to be so fat, with her
flabby tits flopping all over the place while she fucked, but now they were
firm and round and gorgeous like the rest of her.  The girl's tummy looked
flat and hard, the muscles beneath forming a thin washboard as she tugged
them tight and squeezed my penis with her cunt.  Marcia was still the
second best fuck in the galaxy and she smiled at me beneath her smooth,
bald head.

   "You've been under a lot of stress, Billy.  That's all.  You need to
relax."

   "I don't know what I'm doing," I confessed and I could feel the fear in
my belly, like a snake coiling around my guts, and I didn't understand it.

   "You're fucking me," she replied with a giggle.  "That's all you have to
do.  Give me your cock, Billy.  Like you used to.  Remember?"

   "Am I Billy now?" I wondered, closing my eyes as I held her hips and she
felt so much different.

   "Of course you are," Marcia whispered.  "Just relax and let me make you
feel good now."

   "I think I'm fagboy sometimes," I told her.  "Except I'm not, but he
wants me to be."

   "Shhhh..." She rolled her hips around my penis, rocking my cock with her
tight pussy pulling at the shaft.

   "And the others..." I swallowed hard.  "I can feel them in my head and
they won't leave me alone."

   "Think about my pussy," Marcia whispered, bending over me until her
stiff nipples grazed my chest.  "Think about how good your cock feels
inside my cunt, Billy."

   "Tristam's the worst," I said, opening my eyes to see hers, soft and
brown and staring into mine.  "He's trying to kill me."

   "What?" She made a face and shook her head.  "He's inside you, that's
all.  You're the Lord Admiral now, Billy...You're the Marshal...Not him."

   "I know," I replied.  "But he won't stop telling me what to do.  He
won't leave me alone."

   "Shush now." Marcia kissed my mouth and began moving her ass faster,
bouncing her juicing cunt on my dick.  "You're gonna make me cum, Billy."

   "Yeah," I breathed, grabbing her ass with my hands and lifting my hips
to meet her.  "You're such a slut."

   "I'm a total slut," she agreed, panting the words across my lips.  "Fuck
me...Harder...Fuck my cunt, Billy!"

   "I am!" I grunted.  "You whore!  Bitch!  Fuck!  I wish you were Helena!"

   "Forget her." Marcia giggled weakly.  "She can't fuck you like I can,
Billy.  You like that?  You like the way my pussy fucks your cock?"

   "Yeah!" I groaned, wincing as I jammed my dick inside her again.  "You
sloppy pig!  Marcia!  Fuck!"

   "Fuckpig!" She nodded, biting her bottom lip and I could feel her cunt
muscles spasm.  "Yessss..."

   "Uhhhhmmm..." I sighed as her orgasm seemed to suck the sperm out of my
balls.

   My cum shot into her hole rapidly, jetting deep inside the bitch while
her body jerked around like a fish out of water.  Marcia's mouth covered
mine and her tongue pushed past my lips, wriggling desperately as she
flattened her tits against my chest.  It had been a pretty good fuck, the
way they always were, and a moment later she pulled her pussy off my soggy
prick.

   "Do it for me," she whispered.  "The way you used to."

   "What?" I blinked at her as she moved up my body.

   "Suck my cunt, faggot," Marcia said with a smile, all red faced and
sticky with sweat.  Her loose sex dripped our fuck cream on my chest as she
crawled towards my face.

   "No...I'm not..." I licked my lips, smelling her ripe cunt all oily and
filled with the snot from my balls.

   "Yes you are," she breathed, bringing her hairless pussy to my mouth and
I really didn't want to suck my own cum, but part of me desired exactly
that.

   "But...I'm Billy," I said, staring at her distended labia already
dripping with a thin, gooey glaze of fuck cream.

   "You're faggot too," Marcia reminded me.  "I know he's in there
someplace.  Come on, faggot...You know you want to suck my pussy."

   "You said I wasn't...Nmmmph!" I felt dizzy with the pungent smell of her
well-fucked cunt filling my nose.  Her slick pussy lips caressed my face,
her gaping gash covering my open mouth.

   "Yeah, but...Mmmmm..." she sighed as my tongue reached tentatively for
her hole.  "I lied...Suck me now, faggot.  Get all that nasty sperm out of
my pussy."

   I held her ass, pulling Marcia's cummy sex against my mouth even as I
pushed my stiff tongue inside her.  I tasted her salty tang, oily with her
own cum and mine as a thin stream flowed along my tongue and into my mouth.
She played with my hair, urging me to mouth fuck her slutty hole and all I
could think about were all those guys who had fucked her back on earth. 
She'd been gangbanged a bunch of times, spreading her chubby legs for any
hard cock that came along.  And now I was sucking that nasty twat, pulling
her labia into my mouth and chewing them eagerly while she rocked her hips.

   "Oh!  You slut!  Suck it, bitch!" Marcia panted.  "Swallow that cum for
me.  I knew you were in there, faggot!  Fuck!"

   A thick wad of jism fell out of the girl and into my mouth, and then
another as the semen I'd spent began to slither down the throat of her sex.
I remembered doing that for her before, sucking Marcia's pussy after she'd
been gangfucked by Billy and his friends.  By me or fagboy?  Both of us? 
No!  I wasn't sure anymore.  I only knew I'd missed it and I curled my
tongue inside her, digging for more of the salty goo and swallowing
desperately.  I found her asshole with my fingers and wormed one inside,
making her gasp and giggle and push against the emptiness.

   "Oh?  You wanna suck my asshole too?" she asked with a breathless
giggle. "There's no cum in there though."

   We didn't care.  Marcia tilted her hips, splitting her cunt lips around
my nose even as my tongue found her anus.  I made out with her asshole,
tasting the dirty sweat and the fishy juices that had spilled out of her
cunt.  I rimmed the girl the way I used to do it back home.  The way faggot
had done it, I mean.  I'd fucked her and he'd sucked her clean, but I
remembered doing it.  A flood of confused memories filled me as I worked
her rosy sphincter loose enough to get the tip of my tongue inside.  I
teased the soft ring of puffy flesh around Marcia's asshole, French kissing
the slut and wishing someone had fucked her rectum and left a warm, gooey
prize behind to reward my efforts.

   "Yeah, Billy..." Marcia sighed.  "Maybe you are crazy, but we're gonna
be doing this a lot from now on.  Faggot likes it."


   end 13

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