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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--
Elf Sternberg            FUCK THE CDA!       (Cohen vs. California, 1971)
elf@halcyon.com          Where evolution is outlawed, only outlaws evolve
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