From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.furry
Subject: Journal Entry 177 / 0527 [ Finding The Nice Girl ]
Date: 18 Mar 1996 13:18:36 GMT
Organization: Pendor, UnLtd.
Lines: 368
Message-ID: <4ijnrc$kdv@news.halcyon.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: coho.halcyon.com
Elenya, Urim 6, 0527
"Where are we going?" P'nyssa whispered.
"Through here," Aaden replied, pushing the door open just
enough for the three of us to slip through. "You know," he said
equally quietly, "you may well be the first fem to ever get in
here."
"So," P'nyssa asked, "where's 'here?'"
"Welcome to the Hex," Aaden said. Deep within the town of
Rhysh, but not in the Castle itself, we had snuck into the large
mel's amphitheater, looking for this small room. The hex lay in
the center under two red lights, looking cold and uncomfortable.
It was barely five metres across, and the room itself was square,
nine metres across in all.
"Excuse me," said a voice from the ceiling, "but she is not the
first female to visit the Hex, and you're right, she probably
shouldn't be here."
"Oh, come on, Rowan," I said cheerfully, "It's just the three
of us."
"What are you doing here so late at night?" the AI asked.
"Playing Hex," I said. "With the requisite medical attention."
The tone of Rowan's voice changed completely as she asked, "May
I watch?"
"Well?" I asked Aaden.
"I don't see why not," he smiled. "She will anyway. It's all
a matter of whether we authorize her to remember it or not. And
even then..." He let the thought trail off. Although visibly AIs
followed "the rules" as AIs were supposed to, it was a common
supposition that underneath it all AIs quite simply knew everything
about everybody. Ress had once assured me that if I ordered an AI
to forget something, they would never again be able to mention it,
would act as if it never happened, and for all intents and
purposes, it would be forgotten. But she couldn't answer the
question of could the AI replay the incident "in its mind."
"Okay, Rowan, go ahead and watch," I said.
"Thank you!" she said with an almost girlish squeal. The door
we had walked through opened again and a short but very sexy
femMeph walked through. "How's this?" the Mephit asked quietly.
"Rowan?" I asked, staring.
"You like it?"
"It's... Uh... Very pretty," I said. If this was her choice
for an ELF, I was impressed. Her form was Mephit;
anthropomorphized skunk, like Aaden, about 155 cm tall, with a very
bushy but short tail. Mostly black fur with a thin, white stripe
working it's way up her back. Her breasts were very large, and
even concealed as they were by the shiny leather corset, I could
tell the left was slightly larger than the right. Her eyes glowed
slightly, as if lit from behind, and she held her lips in a
perpetual sort of half-smile. Aside from the corset, she wore a
small black patch of leather over her groin, secured with nothing
more than threads that ran over her hips, and knee-high boots with
short heels.
"I figured I should show up like this, just so you two remember
that I'm here." She smiled.
"It will be hard to forget," Aaden offered.
Then something hit me. The smell of femMeph. "What the...?" I
asked, reaching out to touch her arm gently. It was physical.
"Rowan?" I asked.
"Like it? Bawr and Mariah put it together for me. It's a full
positerminal."
"But... I thought AI's didn't do well with PT's."
"New technology," she said, "makes new rules, Kennet."
"So," I said, "do you like it?"
"Uh-huh!" she smiled wide and cheerily, like the little girl
she had sounded earlier. "I like eating!"
"You'll get fat," I chided.
"And that'll be something new to try, too." She was still
smiling.
I shook my head, her glee becoming positively infectious.
"So," I said to Aaden, "shall we get on with what we came here
for?"
"Let's." He turned towards the Hex, the pit set in the center
of the room. Its rim was a thick, padded bar about four cm high,
designed to keep the wrestlers in. I reached for the control panel
and hit the "prep" button.
There was a slight hissing sound as the Hex began to flood with
oil. After a few seconds, it was a half-centimetre deep in the
thick, slightly greenish fluid. The hissing sound ceased. Aaden
had already set aside what little clothing he had worn, and I
followed, stripping off my flannel shirt and jeans.
"Ready, lover?" I asked, smiling.
"Ready," he said, returning the smile. "Ready to settle old
scores." He stepped into the pit, settling his feet carefully onto
the oiled padding, then dropping to his knees. I repeated the
ritual. I stared across the minute distance towards him, and he
smiled at me. "Ken," he said quietly, "Atari, Coimelin."
I inhaled sharply. Not at the warning, but at the second word.
"Love of my life." If he was trying to throw me off-balance before
the battle even began, that was a good way of doing it. I shook my
head for a second and said, "Aaden, Sente..." and I paused for a
second. "Coimelin."
He smiled, enjoying the affirmation. Then he lunged for me.
I dodged to my right and he slid across the oiled floor,
crashing into the railing. I leapt upon him and he tossed me off
easily. Neither of us was sufficiently oily to do what we were
here for.
As I rolled across the ring, I deliberately spread as much of
myself across the floor, picking up as much oil as I could. I
would need it; I wanted to be slippery; it would make it hard for
him to get a good grip. More than that, I needed to be ready for
him.
Aaden pushed himself off the edge, sliding towards me on his
knees, his hands spread wide. I ducked; he compensated, grabbing
me under a shoulder and throwing me down and slamming my head to
the mat. "Gotcha!" he said.
"No!" I shouted, twisting to my left, away from him. "Not so
fast," I said. My heart pounded against my ribs. It was already
too much for me.
"See," he snarled, trying to wipe oil away from his eyes with
the back of his arm, "You're out of shape. You're nowhere near as
good as the day we met, Ken."
"I'm better!" I said, pushing up and leaping for him. He
caught me in his arms, taking advantage of the momentum to slam me
down to the mat again.
"No, you're not!" he snarled again, straddling my naked body.
"You're getting slow, and I'm going to fuck you to prove it."
"You're going to have to try harder than that," I said. I
bucked up against his hips and he lost balance, falling back. I
clawed for him, grabbing a leg and pulling him towards me, sliding
on the oil. I managed to get my knees under me, and he began
kicking to avoid me as I grabbed for his waist, trying to pull his
ass towards me. "On your back this time's just as good," I said,
my lips curled into a sneer.
One foot caught me on the shoulder and shoved me off-balance
again. I fell over, my head hitting the mat hard. I shook to
clear it, but he was on me again, his strong hands grabbing me,
waist and left leg, and throwing me over. I fought him, but this
time I knew I was lost. And part of me wanted to lose this fight.
But I put up a good show of trying to toss him as he slammed his
weight down on my legs, his hands on my shoulders to keep me down,
his legs over mine, pulling them apart. "Take this," he said, his
cock nudging against my ass. With one push he buried himself
inside me, filling me. I screamed. I kept fighting as he kept me,
pummeling me into the oily padding of the ring floor, but both he
and I knew I was in heaven with his cock inside my asshole,
pistoning into my backside. "Take this," he snarled again, "like
you made me take you, that first time. You remember that, don't
you?"
I nodded, my cheek sliding on the oil. My eyes were closed, as
much in pleasure as to keep the oil out. It smelled of olives. He
fucked me hard, taking me under the red lights. Every thrust of
his furry, oily body against my backside pounded my hips against
the mat. The only audience this time was P'nyssa and Rowan, not the
crowd we'd had when I won.
"Yes!" he shouted. "Now!" And with one hard shove he roared,
burying his cock as deep as it could go, coming inside me, and I
closed my eyes and sighed.
He lay over me, his hands sliding off my shoulders and onto the
mat, his lips against my ear. "Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?" I asked, opening my eyes and looking up at him.
"You won."
"And you liked losing," he replied, easing off of me. As his
cock slid out I moaned again. "See what I mean?" he said.
"What can I say? If it hadn't been for my ego, I'd've let you
win the first time we met, too." He laughed.
We lay there in the oil for a few seconds, trying to catch our
breaths. He looked silly, all droopy, oily fur and smiling dark
eyes, his sex slowly retracting into it's sheath. There was an
awkward pause- at least it felt to me like an awkward pause- while
I decided how to broach the subject. "Aaden? What did you mean by
that comment you made before we started?"
"Which one?"
"You called me 'coimelin.' You can't mean that."
"Why not? You agreed with me."
I thought about it. "I guess I did." I shook my head.
"Forgive me. There was a time in my life when I thought there
would never be a 'missus right,' and the only people who even
remotely attracted my attention that way were nubile human females
with nothing up here," I said, pointing to my head. "Now I find
myself in love with an oversized, intelligent, male nonhuman, and
there are days when my brain still rejects the idea as ridiculous."
Aaden nodded. "Yeah, I know that feeling."
"Really? How so?" I asked.
"Well, this morning's a good example."
I looked around and said, "Why, what happened this morning?"
"You abandoned me. Imagine my surprise when I woke up to find
I was sharing my bed with a fem, and only a fem. And a Tindal fem
at that. I mean, sure, I've slept in the same bed as Nyss before,
but usually when I wake up, you're there, too. You hadda go attend
to a project early today, didn't you?"
I laughed. "So, what did you do?"
"Well," he said, "I was a bit surprised. Then I realized who
it was." He paused for a second. "And what she means to me."
"What she means to you?" I asked, curious.
"Yeah, what she means to me. Because she's as much a part of
you as this thing," he said, wrapping his paw around my sex. "So I
kissed her on the forehead like I did last time, and got out of
bed."
I shook my head and looked over to where P'nyssa sat. She
wasn't watching us, she was talking intently with Rowan. "Let's
hit the showers."
"Sounds good," he replied.
We took turns in the shower doing each other's backs, not being
overly sexual, just playful, when P'nyssa peeked in around the
glass door, Rowan behind her. "Hi," Aaden said, spotting them
first.
"Hello," P'nyssa said. "That was... interesting."
"Think so?" I asked. "You should be the one doing it."
"I'm... uh... not equipped for it," she replied. Aaden and I
both laughed aloud.
"Be out in a minute," I said. She nodded and they closed the
door.
Aaden and I finished getting as much oil as we could off and
got out. Taking a towel to someone as furry as Aaden is fun, and
the blow-dryer is even more so. He purred as I massaged his fur to
release the moisture. We found P'nyssa and Rowan and headed for
the SDisk.
At the disk, we bid out good-byes to the Mistress of Rhysh.
She smiled and waved. Imagine my surprise when she leapt onto the
SDisk with us.
- - -
"Rowan?" I asked, having been the one to catch her in my arms
as we teleported.
"Hi!" she said.
"Are you sure you can be this far from Rhysh?" I asked,
worried.
"Of course. I can attend all events at the Castle and still
maintain a perfect contact here. Why even ask?"
"I worry about everything, sweetheart, that's why."
"Well," she said, smiling, "I've been talking to Dave. He's
giving me a support channel, by the way. Just in case the shadow
signal drops."
I nodded. That was smart. Redundancy. "Talking about what?"
"Well, everybody who pays any attention at all to you knows
that Aaden here is the big thing in your life right now." She
poked him gently in the ribs. "And the AIs know something nobody
else knows, except you and P'nyssa."
"Aaden's a missing Tleil."
"Right," she said. "So... " There was a pause, and I knew what
was coming. "I want to be it."
"Be what?" I asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question.
"Be the mother."
Somehow, knowing what was coming didn't make it any easier. I
blinked, stunned for a second anyway. Aaden and P'nyssa seemed
similarly surprised.
"Rowan," Aaden said, "You know what we want from this..."
"Uh, huh," she said.
"Rowan, how old are you?"
"I'm fifteen years old. This terminal is itself three years
old. What difference does that make, Ken? I'm an AI; I've got the
full functional memories of Lynn behind me. Look, this body is
functionally ready to bear children. It's an experience I want,
badly enough that I'm offering you exactly what you want in
exchange."
"Rowan," P'nyssa said quietly, "You don't know what you're
asking for."
"The Hell I don't," she said. "P'nyssa, I play Brace
recordings of childbirth to myself all day long. I want it. I
want it so badly I can taste it the way you see people at the
Castle tasting the whip. Please," she said, the last word
plaintive and sad. "I had this body built with full fertility.
Just for this. And when Dave called me and talked to me about
this, I just had to talk to you. If not you, I'll just find
someone at the Castle for it. But, like my mother, Ken, I want you
to be there, and I want you," she pointed to Aaden, "to be the
father."
I shook my head and turned to Aaden, who so far had been pretty
quiet. "There are days when I'm sure my life can't get any
weirder."
He smiled and said, "Trust me. It will."
I took a deep breath and said, "Well, shall we go discuss this
further?" I led this little party down to our home.
--
"Journal Entry 177 / 0527 [ Finding The Nice Girl ]"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are copyright (C) 1989-1995 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Redistribution of
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Any redistribution must include this copyright notice intact.
--
Elf Sternberg FUCK THE CDA! (Cohen vs. California, 1971)
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