Date: Sun, 13 Dec 2015 16:59:47 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Space Lottery story

                        THE SPACE LOTTERY
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Jefferson Kirby looked about the mess hall and wondered what the hell
he'd been thinking when he signed up for this disaster! Working a mine was
rough work even back on old Earth herself! Working it on another planet was
worse, and on a planet where you couldn't even breathe the air
was...horrible! You didn't ever get out of the mine, as it were, you came
up the shaft and into a crawler that hauled you to a dome where you were
shoved in tight with the same men you'd been working with all day (they
worked three shifts of ten hours duration, you were on for ten and off for
twenty and never a weekend off and no town to go get blind drunk in even if
you'd had a day off, which you didn't). You had a bunk to sleep in and
about that much free space to stand or sit in when you weren't sleeping,
and then it was back down into the mines. There were ten men on his shift,
and he was so fucking tired of looking at them, listening to them, eating
and sleeping with them and hearing their snores and farts unceasingly, all
the time!
     Not only that, there were fifty or more of the Vendi in the mess hall
as well. Hell, you can't even tell them apart, they all looked alike! The
same ghostly pale-white skin, the same large black eyes with no pupils in
them, no nose, and no teeth in that small mouth, with the same slender
bodies that weren't quite human-shaped, with the elbows and knees that bent
the wrong way and had an extra joint in the arms and legs as well. Not
longer legs and arms, just more jointed. They were capable miners as they
could get down on arms and legs and sidle along at a rapid pace like large
white spiders. They jibbered away in their own language among each other
(they understood English and could spout simple words and sentences) and
kept to themselves. They weren't eating, here, they were just gathered
around in a crowd, like they were waiting for something.
     And if that weren't enough, in came the other two shifts. It was
mid-work shift for one of them and mid-sleep time for the other, but here
they all came, the sleep shift wearing only their underwear, briefs or
boxers and nothing else. Yawning, but present, scratching themselves in
intimate places, God, Jeff could smell their rankness from here! Some of
the miners didn't wash themselves very often, even though the mine water
tanks held more than enough to let everyone stay clean as they wanted to
be. Water wasn't a problem on this world, there was plenty of water ice
(mixed with ammonia and methane, yes, but water was over 40% of the ice
pack) on this planet for everyone. They could install a swimming pool in
their recreation dome if they'd had enough room for one!
     The central pillar of the mess hall was an open frame, a pedestal
making it an impromptu stage. Jeff had watched from one of these tables
during his initial orientation when he'd gotten here. The bosses must want
to talk to everyone.
     The head boss, a man named Edward Carnovan, called out, "All right,
guys, it's time for you all for the weekly lottery drawing. One whole week
of being off shift and just lying around! If you don't have your work
number memorized, pull out your card and be ready to answer, I don't want
to have to holler over and over here!"
     Jeff hadn't had any reason to memorize his work number, the card
worked like a credit card at the local "store" and let him buy things and
charge it against his accumulated payday (the store didn't gouge him, he
had to admit, once you factored in the high cost of delivering every
blessed thing by spaceship over twenty-six light years or more), but that
was his only occasion to use the thing. He pulled it out and wasn't the
only one by any means, a third or more of the men had done the same. So had
the bosses, he noted, only Mr. Carnovan seemed to not be part of the
lottery. Thirty-five men (twelve men on each shift, one man was missing)
waited for him to call out the numbers. "Eighteen, twenty-seven, fourteen."
he said.
     Jeff looked at his card and couldn't believe it. "That's me, that's
me!" he hooted in a vast sense of relief! An entire week, with pay, to
lounge about and do whatever he wanted! He might get bored in a hurry, but
there was always some people in the recreation dome, he could get to know
the other shift miners, play cards and watch entertainments. And he'd be
surrounded by new faces, at least.
     "Jefferson Kirby, get over here!" Mr. Carnovan called. "You are the
latest winner!"
     Beaming broadly, Jeff went up to claim his prize and saw everyone was
calling and cheering for him. "Hey, good for you, Kirby!" one man from his
shift called. "Hope you can stand up to it!"
     "Give em all you got, Kirby!" another man from his shift called out to
him.
     "Hey, I intend to drink near-beer and sleep a lot!" Jeff told them. He
regretted the lack of alcohol somewhat, but didn't depend upon it like so
many men did.
     "I don't think you'll be getting a whole lot of sleep, Kirby!" one of
the men from another shift hooted. "I know I didn't when I won last month!"
     "Hey, you loved every minute of it!" a friend of the man's said.
     "Not as much as they did!" the man responded to general laughter.
     Mr. Carnovan saw the bemusement on Jeff's face and said, "I guess you
don't know about the lottery yet, do you?"
     Jeff shook his head. "No, sir, just what you said. A week off from
work."
     "Well, Kirby, you are off from work all right, you won't be going down
the shaft. What you'll be doing is hanging with the off-shift Vendi. From
now until the next week's drawing."
     "With the Vendi?" Jeff was appalled! Hell, he barely tolerated the
weird little aliens! Off the six intelligent alien races the human race had
encountered in their five hundred years of interstellar travel, the Vendi
were the least human of the group! He could get along with the Exedin, he
liked the Jollitt and the Fifferfiffen well enough, he was even friends
with a few of the Cor and the Mim'mum'm'mum'm, but the Vendi, those
spindly, spidery, gibbering things...ugh! "Sir, can't I refuse the
lottery?"
     "If you'll check your work contract, Kirby, you'll find that it's
covered in the provisions about non-classified work."
     So this wasn't a vacation at all! Just a "non-classified job!" That
covered anything that was essential to the functioning of the mine, but for
which a proper classification-qualified worker wasn't available. Shit! Some
jobs were dangerous, he could die on a non-classified job out of ignorance!
     "So what do I got to do?" he asked, worried.
     "Just go with them and let them do what they want with you, is all."
Mr. Carnovan said soothingly, and with his right hand, he waved the Vendi
toward Jeff!
     The jibbering white forms surrounded him and he was led off, to the
calls and hoots and noises of the men. Whatever he was about to have to
deal with, they all thought it was funny as hell! At least it didn't sound
dangerous!
     The small aliens (they were as tall as a human, but about half the
mass) were clustering about Jeff as best they could, their hands were
playing over his body from all angles, the clutching fingers of the Vendi
threatened to trip him, even! "Hey, hey, let me get to your dome first!" he
chided them. He'd never seen the inside of the Vendi dome, these freaks
didn't have any bunks, just a large soft area that covered the entire floor
all over. There were shelves and lockers around the walls all around, and
not a single porthole to let them see outside. Jesus, the place was worse
than the bunkrooms! At least there, he could crawl into his bunk and draw
the privacy screen down. Flimsy as it was, it cut him visibly off from the
others (oh, not their sounds and not their smells, emphatically not their
smells), but it gave the effect of privacy at least.
     "All right, all right, I'm in here!" Jeff grunted. "You got me for an
entire week, already. What do you want to do with me first?"
     The Vendi hands were all over him, he hardly noticed that they were
busily unfastening his clothing until they started stripping it from
him. He started to protest, but gave it over. The Vendi were as sexually
neutral as any race could get, they didn't have male or female as the human
race understood it. Whyever they wanted him nude, it didn't have anything
to do with a plan to rape him. And what else mattered?
     The pressure of their fingers urged rather than pushed him onto the
floor. The mattress was as soft as any human's bed, a bit firmer perhaps,
but nothing more. He lay down with the Vendi pushing about him, and he
looked up into a sea of their oval (horizontal oval, not vertical) faces,
with the all-black pupils like smaller pointed-tipped ovals inside them,
the mouths moving as they jibbered in a non-stop conversation. Jeff had
heard that the Vendi carried on a constant communication among themselves,
not only talking to each other, but ferrying the conversations of further
away comrades on to comrades beyond the verbal reach of the speakers. A web
of constant communication, it would have driven a human crazy if it had
been in English. Even now, it was a drumming sort of sound that was nearly
white noise, for his ear couldn't tell which Vendi was saying what in all
this.
     Their hands were playing over his body, a body toned not only by hard
labor in the mines (even though there were ample machines, so much of
working in mines involves physical labor even as human starships traverse
the skies), but by studious regular workouts in the recreation dome. The
Vendi were fascinated by his body, now that they had him nude, they not
only played their hands over him, but were leaning down and working their
prehensile tongues on him as well. The tongues were slightly raspy, not
hard as sandpaper, but like a soft washcloth well soaped up, it still
caused his body to feel every tongue as a separate, distinct sensation on
his body.
     He was discovering under their tongues points of sexual excitation on
his body he'd never known he had. Behind his ears, for example, and along
the edges of his armpits at the fold of flesh between his chest and arms,
he'd never known how little those points had been touched before, and now
that they were being touched, with lithe, adroit, experienced tongues, they
were reacting with a rush of pleasure he'd never felt before!
     Nude, stimulated as he was, of course he got an erection! Small
wonder, he hadn't beat his meat for almost four days and he was a "twice a
day" man under normal circumstances. He could masturbate inside his bunk
with the privacy screen down, but all too often, his workmates would
realize what he was doing and he'd have to endure raucous calls and
suggestions about how he should "whack it, Jeff, whack it good!"
Mortifying, even if the others did similar things, sometimes at the very
same time. One man, known only as "Montana," seemed to wait for such events
and would "join in" and give loud verbal reports about how things were
going with him, like it was a game between buddies, who could squirt first!
Try listening to that while you jerk off and see how that screws with your
head!
     So his cock began to rise up and that was when he heard it. The "white
noise" of their jibbering stopped being random and started in being a
coordinated sound! They were chanting something. What the hell was this?
     He began to realize that those tongues had worked some sort of drug
into his body! He was feeling somewhat woozy, somewhat antsy, and a lot of
sheer, raw horniness! His cock was beyond erect, it was throbbing and
weeping precome copiously!
     And suddenly, his cock was wrapped with Vendi tongues! Not just one,
but several of them, they were lapping off his precome, but also
coordinating their movements to jerk his prod in a way that was better by
far than a blowjob or a tight pussy ever thought of being! Imagine a tube
being slid over your cock, tight enough to hold you firmly, and then
imagine every part of that tube being flexed independently, a hundred
thousand tiny bumps that were coordinated to inspire maximum pleasure! That
was what those tongues were doing to him!
     "Oh, crap, is that what you wanted from me? Someone to give a
tongue-job?"
     "Yes, we please you often." one of the Vendi responded to his
question, though he hadn't expected an answer. "We please you over and over
again, all the time."
     "Great galloping galaxies!" moaned Jeff. "And this is a job
requirement?"
     "This is why we work with you, yes." the Vendi replied. "So it is
requirement."
     Jeff was well beyond caring what the answer was. "All right then, come
on and keep those tongues busy!"
     The Vendi didn't need him to tell them that, they were practically
lapping every part of his body, their limits were only how many of them
could crowd around him at any one moment. He couldn't bear it, his climax
came roaring at him with the speed of an interstellar missile, it rammed
into him at a speed near that of light itself and he groaned, exploded hard
and hot and fast! Hot white jets of his spunk flew hard and high, and as it
did, the Vendi released him and they nearly fought among themselves for the
right to capture it as it landed on him, on each other and in mid-air once
or twice if he saw them right. Only those actually wrapped around his
tongue didn't let up, not even when he finished squirting and the last
dregs dripped down to run over those tongues. A brief release as they
lapped those pearls into their bodies.
     And Jeff figured, well, that's that and started to get up. But the
bodies kept pressing about him and they began to lap at him again. He got
as far as on his hands and knees, and that was when the Vendi started
finding fresh areas to excite on his body. A tongue went into his ass, all
the way in, deep inside, and the tongue tickled his prostate gland,
crushing him with waves of ecstasy. He laid his head down on his forearms,
exposing more of his buttocks to those talented tongues. That one in his
anus was driving him insane! And a second one added itself to the
first. Now his prostate was getting twin twiddling! No, three! Four? Shit,
this was getting as thick as a cock! The tongues wove around each other
until they were a solid shaft of flesh, and now they were behaving as a
cock would, he was getting fucked by the Vendi! He suddenly felt positive
that this was how they had sex, sticking those tongues into each other's
orifices in some manner. Hell, did the Vendi have orifices? Other than
those mouths? He didn't even know how, or if, they ate!
     No matter, the driving shaft of Vendi tongues were driving him to
another orgasm. Already! The chemicals the Vendi saliva was sluicing over
his body were making it as powerful as the first! He began to realize why
the men at this jobsite considered the lottery a matter of winning! An
entire week of this. How often would they make him come? Every hour? Half
hour? Could he keep it up, even with their help?
     He sprayed the Vendi mattress with his spunk and the diving heads
towards his splatter knocked him upwards and away from the floor. Vendi
arms caught him and held him semi-erect while they began to ply over him
again. Jeff just slumped into their hold and surrendered. Let them suck him
over and over again. Let their tongue-cock drive into him unendingly! When
one of them send its tongue toward his mouth (they'd avoided his face to
this point, though they had plied his ears and scalp and neck heavily), he
opened and let it slide in. They wanted to swap spit with him, that was
damned fine with him. The Vendi tongue tasted like sugar-cured meat, the
fluid it exuded as saliva held a copper-like flavor, and not salty-tasting
at all.
     He lost all track of time. The Vendi came and went, shift
changes. There were hundreds of Vendi on the jobsite, far outnumbering the
human complement, and they didn't hesitate to dive in and take the places
of the ones who had to go out and work. Jeff was allowed to sleep only
fitfully, he woke again and again to those tongues rousing him to another
ejaculation. He lost track of his climaxes, as well, he'd dreamily counted
them at first, and lost track around the midpoint, and the count had been
approaching a hundred.
     At long, long, long last, the marathon of sex-duty was over and Jeff
staggered out of the Vendi domes into the care of the staff nurse. They
tucked him into a bunk in the infirmary and let him get some much-needed
sleep.
     From there, it was back to the grind. He found to his mortification
that he was matched up on a tractor with Montana and a round dozen of the
Vendi. Montana grilled him on his experience, which annoyed him until he
learned Montana had been through it for the first time himself a mere few
weeks before. "You want to work in space, you got to learn to roll with the
punches. Hell, sometimes, you find you like the new way better than the
old."
     "What do you mean?"
     "I mean we're driving this tractor to a new site, it's going to be a
half hour on the road."
     "Yeah."
     "So why not make some personal use out of this time?"
     And from the compartments under their seats, which opened, came out
two Vendi.
     "Unzip it and get a little fun while the miles roll by." Montana
advised. He was unfastening his pants and the Vendi eagerly grabbed his
cock as soon as it was exposed, and the tongue began to ply over his dong
(which was a huge man-organ!) with ecstatic abandon.
     Jeff hesitated, then unzipped his own pants. After all, with
thirty-five men in each drawing, it was going to be a long time before he
won the lottery again.
                             THE END
               Comments, complaints or suggestions?
             E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM