Date: Sat, 05 Dec 2009 17:39:13 -0500
From: tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Souvenir From a Small Planet

		       SOUVENIR FROM A SMALL PLANET
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     The whole thing really wasn't his fault! James Matson 12B3 (that final
part was a sort of social/financial/security rating unimportant to this
story; think of it as the future version of "Mister" and you'll be close
enough) was simply on his way home from Ritan-6, a wonderful little
vacation planet without a doubt and like any returning vacationer, was
simply rather tired. This was why he hadn't checked his hypercar over when
he started the drive back to New Topeka, the capital city of New Kansas and
his rather boring job as a...oh, there's that 12B3 thing again, never mind,
call him an office grunt and leave it at that! If he hadn't been so worn
out from a very marvelous time on a very marvelous vacation planet, he
would most certainly have replenished his supply of fuel before starting
out, though even then he wouldn't have noticed that his hyperphone had
become non-functional, its warranty having expired only a week ago. Some
things never change no matter how long the human race kicks around the
Galaxy.
     So what happened to him next was about what would happen to you in the
same circumstances, the "low-fuel" signal went on his dashboard and he
reached for his hyperphone, tried to use it, couldn't get it to turn on,
and said the future equivalent of "God damn it!" and started looking for a
good place to pull over. The low-fuel signal meant more than having a
hypercar no longer moving, it would also mean that he would soon have no
oxygen and no heating to fend off the severe cold of space between the
stars; he needed an oxygen-bearing world with sufficient warmth to keep him
alive until he could get help.
     There, a small world, just ahead and slightly to the left-and-up. He
could make it there with room to spare. The read-out said a reasonably
pleasant atmosphere and temperature. Only reason mankind must have passed
it over is that it was so small, a gravity of only 0.23 G. Some day,
someone would buy the place, install gravity units, and begin building
super-condos on it, or something.
     Oh, well, it would keep him alive until he could get help. He had to
depend upon his distress beacon and a passing vehicle willing to pull over
to help or willing to call someone for him (the interstellar equivalent of
having emergency lights flashing by the highway rather than becoming a
castaway on a desert island.) There were a couple of bags of snacks on the
other seat of his car; he figured he was in for a boring but secure wait
until a passing police vehicle caught his beacon and came down to save him.
     Once down, no reason to sit inside. Had this planet anything dangerous
to humans on it, the scan he'd done would have warned him away from
it. Might as well see if there was a view worth looking at while he sat on
his kiester and crunched Martian Munchies.
     Nice planet. The low gravity was first a hindrance, then became
interesting. He started lobbing the nuggets of his snack up into the air
and catching it on its rather leisurely pace down.
     The third such nugget, though, suddenly did a rapid sideways jerk and
James looked down, saw it disappear into the surprising large mouth on a
surprisingly small, furry critter. About the size of an Earth chipmunk (as
opposed to the chipmunks of Fractal 7, which are twelve feet tall, have
poisonous rows of teeth much like a shark, and tails with very large knobs
at the end with spikes that...come to think of it, I wonder what moron
decided to name them "chipmunks" to begin with?), the little furry thing
chewed with a rapid circular motion, his eyes were round and liquid and
friendly, and when he swallowed, gave an undeniable smile, showing teeth
that were definitely not like a shark.
     "Well, hello there." James said, smiling down.
     "Blee-ee-eep!" the little thing said and rose up on its hind legs,
forelegs in an undeniable begging posture, paws together side-by-side.
     James tossed it another Martian Munchie its way and it caught it with
a cute, weaving motion, chewed, swallowed, and then hopped up into James'
lap. James petted its head and it gave a happy rub back into his palm that
said it loved to be petted. When James ran his hand down its back, the
creature moved like a cat would when petted by a loving owner. It then lay
down in his lap, curled much like a cat, and murbled out a warbling sound
James equated to its purr.
     "Looks like you've adopted me." he said. "Guess I'll take you home
with me. What could possibly go wrong?"
     And to prove how much his luck had changed, a police car appeared
overhead. James looked his new pet on his lap and said, "I think I'll name
you Lucky."
     James got back into his hypercar, Lucky under one arm, and the police
cruiser pulled him up and towed him back to New Kansas.
     Back at his apartment (actually a modular living unit he could move
about as he chose and within certain limits...that 12B3 thing again), James
fixed up a small bed and put out water and food for Lucky. The little
creature beeped happily at him and James, weary and a bit hungover, took a
quick shower to clean up and crawled into bed.
     As he figured, Lucky was at his bed in no time, nuzzling at his
neck. He scratched the head fondly, and said, "Okay, you can sleep with me,
but settle down, will ya? I got to get back to work in the morning."
     Lucky snuggled under his armpit and James figured that was going to be
his bed. When Lucky moved from head in his pit to the butt, well, that was
all part of owning a pet. Sometimes it meant you slept with a butt in your
face. Then Lucky burrowed under the covers, and James let it. Why not? He'd
owned a cat when he was a young teenager and the cat had slept under there.
     Lucky ended up down at his crotch, the foreclaws touched on his
briefs. Lucky stopped at that point for some considerable time and James
didn't know what Lucky did next, because he fell asleep about that point.
     The next morning, though, he felt something funny down there. Not
unpleasant, just...funny. "Lucky? Is that you?" he asked of the furry
feeling he had in his crotch. Had the plucky little critter crawled inside
his briefs somehow? Possible but not very probable.
     He reached down and felt. Lucky was there all right, lying between his
legs. His briefs...they were gone, torn open somehow so that he was lying
on the rags of it. He felt a bit more. Lucky had his cock in its mouth! No
teeth sunk it or nothing, but when he tugged at Lucky's head to extract it,
nothing moved. He wriggled himself to make his cock move in Lucky's mouth,
and found that the mouth was sort of glued to his dong!
     "Shit!" James said, sitting upright. "Lucky, what the fuck are you
doing to me?" He turned on the light and looked down into trusting, liquid
brown eyes. That mouth looked form-fitted to his prod. "Come on, little
fellow, you need to turn loose of Daddy James' family trophy...." And that
was as far as he got.
     A sudden thrill of sexual delight raced through his body! James gasped
and moaned, the intensity of it was so sudden and so complete. His prong,
only semi-flaccid, surged to full tumesence.
     Lucky was making his "purring" sound again, kind of a soft
"beeble-beeble-beeble-beeble" over and over again.
     "Oh, God, oh, God!" James moaned. What had he gotten himself into
here? He had adopted an alien creature as a pet and now it had seemingly
permanently attached itself to his cock and now it was...it was...oh, God,
that felt so GOO-OO-OO-OO-OOD!
     James moaned, panted heavily. "Lucky," he gasped. "I hope you...know
what you're...doing here! UH-UH-HUH-HUHHHH!" And he blasted a hot, heavy
load right into Lucky's gullet! Lucky beepled happily as he took the entire
package of James' balls without a quiver. Done, Lucky gave an undeniable
sigh of happiness and snuggled down, ready to milk James again as soon as
James was ready from all appearances.
     Well, that wasn't going to happen! James promptly made two phone calls
in rapid succession, the first to his work to explain that he was ill and
couldn't come in (otherwise he would go soon from a 12B3 to a 12B6, with
the drop in all perquisites that would entail for him), and the second to a
xeno-veterinarian. That is, a veterinarian who specialized in treating all
the little animals that humans were bringing to New Kansas from other
worlds. James wasn't supposed to bring an animal from an unknown world,
there were rules about that sort of thing. But with Lucky now stuck on his
cock and dangling from it with him standing up (an uncomfortable thing to
have hanging there!), James was ready to explain and just hope the vet
didn't report him.
     As you can imagine ("Hey, doc, I have an alien chipmunk hanging on my
dick!"), James got an appointment that very morning. That left the problem
of how to get there. Lucky appeared to be asleep just at this moment, the
eyes closed. James pulled out the baggiest pair of trousers he had and
cupped Lucky into the crotch there. Dressed as best he could and, with
Lucky making it appeared that he was grotesquely endowed, he set out for
the vet's shop.
     Halfway there on the subway train (that's as close a term as we can
get to this multi-people mover without tedious explanation), James found
that Lucky was stirring. To his horror, he found that Lucky was again
stimulating his pud. Here? Among all these people? What else could he do
but grit his teeth, try to act normal while Lucky sent his prong into
another round of sexual ecstasy. He gulped hard, kept his moans to low
mumbles, and at climax, he gave out a sort of "Wheeeeeee!" sound as his
only expression of the bliss his brain was being blasted by. Done, he
panted as quietly as he could. A woman across from him looked at him with
eyes that said she knew just what had happened to him, but she kept quiet
and got up and found another seat. James gasped for air and prayed that he
could make it to the vet's before Lucky got hungry again!
     He did make it to the vet's, but Lucky got busy again with him in the
waiting room as soon as he sat down to wait. The receptionist called his
name promptly enough, a couple minutes later, but James couldn't move, he
was too busy in pre-climactic dizziness.
     "Mr. Matson, are you all right?" the receptionist asked as James
moaned.
     "Yeah! Uh, uh! One moment!" James gasped, as his hands clutched the
armrests desperately. Inside his pants, Lucky was giving out his
happy-purr, an audible noise from James' crotch. Which was bulging out
alarmingly now. Was Lucky getting fatter?
     "Sir, Dr. Clarkson is waiting." the receptionist said firmly.
     "I know! Oh, oh, OH, OUGH, UHH-GUUHH-HUHHH-NNNNN-GGGGHH!"
     The receptionist stepped back, blinked. "Sir, shouldn't you be seen by
a regular doctor?"
     "No, no, let me get in to see Dr. Clarkson." James said, staggered to
his feet, breathing like an asthmatic hundred-and-eighty-year-old man. He
felt 180 right now. Maybe even 200. "Oh, God, oh, uh, uh!"
     "This way, sir." the receptionist led him to the door, and fled
ignominiously.
     Dr. Clarkson turned out to be a rather handsome young man,
blond-haired, studly and well-muscled. "All right, you explained on the
phone. So if you'll undo your pants so I can see this specimen you so
rashly picked up on an unknown planet and brought here."
     "Sure." James gulped hard (Jesus, these climaxes were getting longer
and more intense every time. His balls felt horribly, horribly empty, but
they still poured a lavish load into Lucky every time the little alien
chipmunk decided to make James shoot another one.
     James had just begun to unzip (another word that was no longer totally
accurate, but "demagnetization" is so multi-syllabic) his fly when it
happened. A sudden burst that was more frightening than anything else.
     But it turned James' pants and part of his shirt into so many rags
(that explained what happened to his briefs, doesn't it?), and Lucky was
revealed in all his glory. His very pregnant-looking glory.
     "Dear God!" Dr. Clarkson breathed.
     "Can you pull it off me?" he asked the xeno-vet. "Without hurting it?"
Despite the ignominy of the experience, he couldn't manage to hate the
little furry alien.
     "I don't know." Dr. Clarkson admitted. "This is unprecedented in my
experience."
     "Well, can you try to pull it off of me?" James whined.
     "Let me see what I can do." Dr. Clarkson walked over to near them.
     Lucky's eyes opened and swivelled to look at Dr. Clarkson.
     Another burst and Dr. Clarkson's own clothes were assaulted by (James
could see it from this angle) an outpouring of some yellowish liquid. What
it touched, melted and left Dr. Clarkson's body exposed from chest down to
his knees, an oval of vanished clothing. In the center of this, his prick
was a nice-sized piece of man-sausage in pubic hair that was also the same
shade of pale blond.
     Lucky swung on James' cock like a kid on a swing and James had an
inkling of what was about to happen. "Doc, get out of the way! Hurry!"
     Too late. Lucky's body reached out and a tube-shaped projection
grabbed Dr. Clarkson's dong! Dr. Clarkson was jerked toward James as the
tube contracted back into Lucky's body. They were left bare-belly to
bare-belly by Lucky's chipmunk sized body that now held two male prongs
inside.
     And Dr. Clarkson jerked as if shocked and then his eyes grew wide and
James realized what was going on. "He's got you, too, now." he said
sympathetically.
     "Oh, oh, oh!" Dr. Clarkson moaned.
     "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this."
     "What the fuck is he doing?"
     "You're about to have the best fucking orgasm of your life, Doc."
James said. "Hang on, it'll be over, soon."
     "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, oh!" Dr. Clarkson groaned. His body shuddered.
     And James reached out and held Dr. Clarkson tightly. His lips found
Dr. Clarkson and he kissed him ardently. His own dong was coming to life
again.
     Dr. Clarkson moaned, jerked, spasmed in James' arms and James held him
tight. "Hang on, hang on, it's all right, it's all right."
     "Oh, oh, GAH-HAH-UH, UH, UH, HUNNNNNN-GUHHHHH!"
     "It'll be over soon, hang on, just let it happen, just let it happen."
James moaned. Oh, jeez, his turn was starting again. Having this studly
veterinarian in his arms had stimulated him more than he'd thought!
     "Huh, uh, uh, uh!" Dr. Clarkson moaned.
     And James' own cock began to sparkle again. Jesus, this was happening
more often, and it was still just as magical as it had been the first time!
What was this little alien chipmunk doing to his body, his wonderful body
that gave him such pleasure that...oh, God, here it comes again!
     Dr. Clarkson realized and held James while James fed another load into
Lucky's insatiable maw. As James turned his lust-dimmed eyes toward the
xeno-vet's face, and the kiss he got was wonderful, just wonderful!
     "I can't pull loose." Dr. Clarkson said when James was able to
understand him again. "We're locked together by this little alien of
yours."
     "I'm sorry, Doc. I shouldn't have picked him up, but he seemed so
freaking harmless back on his home planet."
     "I know. It happens all too much. So long as humans are human, some of
us are going to be enticed by what is cute and cuddly."
     James felt a bubbling at his crotch. Something was happening to Lucky!
     He pulled away as best he can and looked down. It was the only way he
and the doctor would have seen what happened next.
     Lucky's midsection seemed to split apart. Lucky vented a nearly
horrible screeching sound, and...and things bubbled out of him and dropped
to the floor. Fur-covered drops.
     Lots of little Luckys were being born. There must have been at least a
dozen of them. As soon as they landed, they scattered.
     "Oh, my God!" Dr. Clarkson breathed.
     "We've got to stop them! We got to!" James moaned.
     But even though they staggered together toward the door, they were
much, much too late. Three men in the waiting room now had bare midsections
with a furry alien chipmunk latched onto his manhood, a big hole in the
front door told the fate of the others.
     "We've let loose a major alien infection!" Dr. Clarkson moaned.
     "I did, you mean!" James groaned.
     "What are we going to do?"
     "Call the government. Call emergency! Call everyone!" James
shrieked. Maybe it wasn't too late.
     But of course, it was. Before the end of the year, New Kansas was
totally covered with lots of friendly, furry, cuddly, come-happy alien
chipmunks, all the progeny of little Lucky. That and the many men of the
planet, now paired up and engaged in endless sessions of hot, magnificent,
multi-gloried sex that isn't ever, ever going to stop.
     All caused by James Matson going on vacation, picking up something
cute and cuddly he shouldn't have, and taking it to bed with him.
     But then, of course, which of us hasn't been guilty of doing that
every now and then, huh?

				  THE END
		   Comments, complaints or suggestions?
		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM