Work Text:
The planet is encapsulated with glassy clouds of primordial storms, abundant in their colorful scarves of fiercest sea weather, tempests that come in a vast range of aqueous color.
A belt of storms that strands its way around the entirety of the planet, until the head touches its own tail, the system dispersing only then to reignite.
And beneath those turmoiled banks of clouds, sits the oceans and lakes.
These water bodies formed from the methane water that had been spewed and tossed up into the atmosphere by cryovolcanic admissions. The airborne spend of those icy volcanoes becoming... rain.
And among the dangerous curves of land and the sweltering pools of undrinkable water... A small city stands against the elements.
The rain sluices, disordering the natural light that comes creeping in from above.
There's as much toxic water in the air--as there's depravity in the city, she comes to find.
Zane winds her way through the cluttered and clogged city streets, the city hidden within a large metal dome to protect from the tempest weather of the stormy world.
The rain from the cryovolcanoes is a constant hum against the city's roof, always contending against the busy crackle of neon bulb lights and bustling hubbub.
Zane skips over the puddles floating with colorful garbage, hoisting a tray of hot coffee and donuts.
Last time she was here, the books took hours to parse and the club owner, Peo, had stood vigil over her, hanging on every crumb of her assessments.
This was a difficult account.
Not because it was a strip club. But the hours. Zane was a notorious night owl and would have preferred to balance the accounts during the night hours... But since the business was open to service during the night, Peo had insisted that she work through the day so she would not interfere with his business.
No more muddling. No more than necessary.
Peo was clearly one of those Scrooge's who disliked too many fingers inside his pie.
Zane was used to less-than-savory working environments. In fact, they often had some unintended bonuses. Hush money.
She is hoping to unearth something repugnant in these books. Something that she could leverage against Peo and his squeaky clean notes.
It's why she had taken this seedy account in the first place.
###
The little yellow lizard man is practically swallowed whole by the large, glossy, and fine furniture of his office.
Peo flares his little reptile nostrils at her and politely steeples his fingers beneath his narrow jaw.
"You're late."
Zane places the coffee and donuts on a table nearby, "I make my own hours, Peo. I'm never late."
Peo squeaks exasperated, little sharp teeth showing, "You are deliberately late so that you will have to work into my club's open hours."
Zane rolls a finger around a strand of box blonde hair, "A happy coincidence. I might as well see what exactly is being brought to the table. See the cash flow. It's afterall, the whole reason I'm here. To help you with your capital. What better way than seeing the company talent!"
Peo narrows his eyes, hands flat on the polished and exquisitely expensive tabletop. "If you want a lap dance... there are less devious ways of asking for it."
Zane rolls her eyes. "I don't need to pay for my men or women...or others."
Goes and presses a hilariously large cup of coffee into his small claws, speaking cheerily, "Just a little peek. Nothing big."
Peo grumbles soothed by the heat of the coffee radiating on his skin. His lemony eyes drilling into her, "Fine. But if I see you nosing around more than needed, then you're fired."
Zane smiles as large as the Cheshire cat. "You got yourself a deal, little gecko man."
###
Calling her temporary boss a gecko was not the smartest thing she had ever done.
As she is now mired in the thickest, densest... most unbelievably complex tome of accounts she has ever had to decipher in the entirety of her career.
A donut hangs haphazardly from her teeth as her pen jots down frantic notes. Her oasis of coffee long dried out.
She can hear the powerful whomps of music shake the floor underneath her. Bright color bleeding into the cracks of the office door.
Zane rubs her eyes back into order as they begin to fizzle and fog in exhaustion.
Outside this office... Looks to be devilishly fun.
A fifteen-minute break wouldn't be remiss, it was practically regulated--with how hard Peo was working her.
She would be able to do her work better if she could just stretch out her legs. Get some fresh air.
A little slice of cake. A little taste of the good life.
To look upon the waterhole of the fabulously wealthy.
Zane saunters out of the office into the den of iniquity.
###
Zane white-knuckles the golden banister as she gazes down upon all the depraved glory of 'The Blue Moon.'
Her eyes bugging out of her skull.
They had aliens of all assortments and species. Tentacles, scaly skin, slime, multiple tangles of limbs and bodies...
But presently that's not what has attracted the whole of her attention, like a moth to a flame, her stare zeros in on a single entity.
A glorious male. Undoubtedly male. If those delicious muscles were anything to speak of.
He was not even on the center stage, he was reclining at the bar, chatting up the clientele... Wearing a dark silken kimono that was suggestive that his turn up on the stage was nearing... And... And...
He had one arm wrapped around a beautiful human male playing with his luxurious locks. His fuchsia-colored eyes devouring the girls flocking and swooning around him.
His other hand guiding a woman's hand still wrapped around her tequila glass up to his jaws to tip the drink back into his mouth. His tongue licking her fingers lewdly in gratitude.
Peo...had a fucking yautja working for him!?
Zane felt herself go parch... Credit signs flashed and spun inside her head. If Peo had a yautja dancer then there was absolutely no way that his earning reports could be correct.
Yautja were the hottest commodity this side of the galaxy... And to find one willing to debase himself was a rare and precious thing indeed.
Zane salivates, scuttling quickly down the velvet plush stairs to get to the main floor where the yautja was lavishing drinks and preening before his set.
The lights dimmed, signaling the dancers to switch out.
The yautja sensuously disentangled himself from the growing crowd of needy bodies around him, slipping out of his kimono like it was nothing more than a patch of shade and he was walking out into the sun.
He prowled across the bar, lifting himself onto the stage with predatorial grace. He was nearly entirely naked save for the white leather girdle and studded spider straps tangled around his body... A body that could make the gods weep.
He was stunningly erotic.
Leather was even corded between his reptile toes.
Reflective tape (x) marked across his nipples.
The yautja's scales were a vibrant array of electric blues that clashed against his white leather lingerie.
His belly button pouted with an oceanic gemstone.
His orchid gaze slid slowly side to side like brandy swishing in a glass as he regarded his audience with lavish, animal-like attention.
The song purred and pumped into the room. Glass walls and ceilings undulating with ocean waves. The room filling with the shapes and colors of an aquarium.
The crowd starstruck.
The music pounced across the checkered dark and crystal-flashing room. The yautja answered its call by stirring into sensual motion.
He moved his body illicitly across the stage, walking deliberately and achingly slow, every coil of muscle in his body swelling and then stretching as he prowled toward his first victim.
His body glowed under the blacklight and coruscating stage lights, radium, and diamonds.
His dark mane was tossed over one shoulder as he leaned over the stage like a creeping vine to better flash his eyes prettily at the audience.
A long drag of coiled tendrils, white-ribboned with florescent tape and banded with alien silver, lashed the air as he danced.
His beautiful scales shimmered like he was soaking wet.
He held himself by the stage chain with one curling arm, walking himself on the acute edges of the stage graceful and slow, it was an immense display of strength and control.
He moved on to stalk the next hands filled with waving money.
Zane had never seen such a thing...he hunted with his exotic dance. She felt herself drifting closer, searching for a seat or booth, and realizing painfully that they were all filled to the brim.
All the people crowded his perch like sailors to a siren.
And just then the dance picked up heat.
He began to crawl across the glass stage like an animal hunting down its prey, every fine daggered finger splayed to spread his weight delicately and evenly.
Every muscle in his back roiled like a blue-lapping ocean. The leather straps struggling to contain him.
He crawled like ice melting down hot skin, following his oozing path to a booth crowded with gawking human women.
He crawled over the top of them, caging them beneath him, his arms spread over the leather booth, leaning in and over from his vantage point higher above them on the stage.
All his seductively jeweled mandibles parted as he spoke, with a voice as smooth as pearls, his lascivious stare pinpointed on one girl in particular.
"...What does the sweet one want of me?"
The female's face went bright flaming red, snatching her designer bag close to her chest, fingers worming inside to find more credits.
He leaned in closer, so even his heavy banded hair dipped into her drink, allured by the promise of credits.
A single clawed finger lifting her chin so her gaze met his. He cooed again, "...you can tell me any desire..."
Oh fuck. Zane herself was reeling and she was stuck off on the sidelines... Not even directly pinned under him.
The woman managed to stutter something out that caused his fuchsia eyes to flare deviously.
A stack of credits then folded into the leather harness straining across his huge chest.
His voice a stormy purr, as he shifted his formidable body again, "How naughty...my little prey."
He slid down with all the dark grace of a viper in a jungle tree, slipping around her, so his knees boxed her in and gave her an obscene view of his scantily clad groin.
The yautja knitted his fingers at the back of her pretty little head, dipping her drink down his rippling belly--allowing the girl to lave the drink off his rigid abdomen with a guiding hand.
He even let the woman twirl her tongue around his aquamarine bellybutton piercing. All the while rolling his hips to the music's swaying pulse.
The crowd howled jubilantly to this.
The sound of credits clinking across the glass now louder than even the torrential rain against the city skyshield.
Zane was enraptured. There had to be... so much more money hidden from the books. There was no way a walking honey trap like that didn't bring in enough business to keep this whole place afloat himself.
The alarm on her watch began to vibrate... Signaling that her break was over.
But just then with his head tossed back, his beautiful crest sleek as dragon horns, credits and lights sparkling the club air, his crotch gyrating against the woman's aperol-soaked gasps.
His eyes found hers from under his lust-heavy lids.
A pink iris brighter than flamingo neon. Zane could only shiver in near-delirious delight as he winked at her.
###
Zane reluctantly peeled herself away from the debauchery the insanely beautiful yautja was fabricating at the opposite end of the club to instead huddle at the bar and recuperate.
She was ruminating. Tapping her fingers against the tablet drink menu watching the pixels ripple and spark.
Her new plan was a gamble.
A thirsty one at best.
Her flooded panties shouldn't have had this much pull over her business... But this was a unique case.
She needed to see exactly how far Peo's staff would or could go in exchange for credits. If the yautja accepted her money in exchange for some sexual liberties on company soil... Then it would prove the books had been fabricated.
And she could sink her teeth into Peo and shake him off all his grimy worth.
It was risky because if she failed to lure the yautja into an arrangement with specific grounds... Then she would be fired for both the failure to return to her station upstairs, with all that glorious record-keeping, and also terminated for disobeying Peo's request for privacy.
It... was a bold plan, and Zane hoped it was not one that was too horribly influenced by the dry spell she was stuck in.
This was at its most singular level simply a game. Big risk, huge reward.
###
She laid her trap by springing credit for drinks. Attaching her wallet to the yautja's standing bar tab and clearing its sizable cache, and then adding a generous sum for a few more drinks of his choice.
The bartender gave her a gracious smile, pleased by her generosity, sliding a complimentary coaster towards her as her billfold watch was frittered away of its monies.
There would be more money in the future if she could pull this off. Zane spied towards where her yautja was last gallivanting, both excited and queasy.
Then she sat on the stool, sipping her drink--a wonderfully foamy Pisco sour.
Zane crossed her ankles, waiting for her prey to come to her.
###
The bold white tape xed across his chest catches vividly the light of the bar from the corner of her eye.
Zane can see his blue colors reflected in the glassware behind the barman as he approaches her. It has taken a while for him to have noticed her--
She has already downed three sours and is feeling the effect tingle across her body. She bats her eyes at him coolly, running a finger along the rim of another emptied drink.
He is leaning over the bar--but instead of engaging with the bartender, he is looking at her, full side-eye.
His eyes are passionate and irreverent to any societal issues in taking pleasure in what he saw.
Zane can agree with mutual excitement and warmth as her stare clasped readily with his own...that this was going to be really fun.
He is even more magnificent up close.
Those Carribean blue scales... That Adonis body...
He was now streaked with glow-in-the-dark paints, his thighs smeared with many desperate hand prints.
He loosely coiled his dark kimono around his body, his shoulders bare and still continuing to play with the club's complex light brilliantly.
Ocean and sprite.
A tumbler of whiskey with a single cherry is passed into his slender fingers from the barman.
Then he's walking toward her, passing behind her, to her other side. Lithe and stunning.
Looking down at her as if she was a tasty treat left forgotten, "New and beautiful, how haven't you gotten gobbled up already...?"
Zane sucked on her foggy finger, coated in her drinks whipped eggs whites for a long sultry moment before answering him,
"Peo kept me locked up in his stuffy office. Maybe he wanted me all to himself."
The yautja chuckled, a sound equally dark and delicious, "He was right to keep you locked up all safe and sound... If he wanted to keep you all for himself, that is. How did you escape your little tower...?"
This...was great...
Zane twisted in her chair so that her amble breasts were the primary focus in the dim lights, smiling breezily, "He let me have a break and I've never looked back."
The yautja roved his piercing gaze up and down her body, taking his time to admire it.
Zane was distracted by the way his arm muscles unconsciously winded as he tapped his slender talon on his drink's glass.
"Ah... You're the new book girl. Peo has spoken about you, but let me assure you, his complaints are unfounded, you are quite... lovely."
The way he spoke that last word should've been illegal.
The flirt!
Zane clicked her teeth, running her fingers through her smooth hair, "Has Peo told you my name or do I get that pleasure all for myself?"
He hummed like she had given him something absurdly sweet to mull his tongue over, his eyes sharpening their acute pink depths.
"I would love to hear your name."
She faced him fully in her seat, popping him with her best smile, "The name is Zane, sweetheart."
He leaned in, eyes half-lidded, his voice so softly dangerous, and obscene. "The only sweet thing here is you, Zane. I'm Rax by the way, but you may call me anything you wish."
For a price... was the silent thing left unspoken between them.
Zane uncrossed her feet, pouting petulantly, "What do you think I should do for fun here, Rax? I'm free for the foreseeable future with nothing to do. You look like you know what's fun."
Rax twirled the whiskey cherry into his mouth with a coo, fluttering his coquettish eyes at her, "Well, that depends... What do book girls like you do for fun?"
He continued when she didn't jump up at the bait immediately, "You and I are different, after all. My idea of fun might break you."
If that wasn't an invitation...
Zane wouldn't be worth her salt to ignore that flagrant advisement layered inside his flirtatious words.
She hoped the words she used next conveyed her desire without showing it too much.
"I have time and credits to burn. I could use a pleasant distraction."
Rax laughed--a rich sound that was all deep-sea gold and seduction. "Distraction? ... Book girl, don't dishonor me, I'll be your guide. Follow me."
###
Zane wobbled in her heels, a bit tipsy but filled with burning desire.
The music was concussive in the back hallway of the nightclub where the VIP rooms were snuffed of all evidentiary sound that could come bleeding out the doors.
Rax held her hand, guiding her sinuously around the bodies clogging the narrow hall, her hand swallowed whole in his giant warm hand.
He sashayed his tapered waist with devious intentions as he led them down into the dark and debauched, putting on a lewd show for her already.
Zane wanted to pinch herself...and then that cute bottom of his. This was a dream come true.
She couldn't decide what was going to be better, fat stacks of money... Or big yautja cock.
Rax led them to a plush room, laying his hand on the door to grant them access to the private booth.
He yanked her into the room, spinning her like a salsa dancer into a huge velvet chair at one end of the room, shutting and locking the door behind him.
Then he shed the kimono, his attention on the private stage equipment, assessing them carefully, he purred over his shoulder at her when she proved too quiet, "Make yourself comfortable, Zane. The menu is next to you, and when you're ready with your choice you can transact with my gauntlet. Then we can begin."
Zane was distracted watching him starting to set up the room. His body sparkling under the low glowing lights of the private booth. Pink and Blue. Fiji water bottle colors.
She plucked the electric menu into her lap to peruse.
The menu had an array of choices. She made sure to check off the most expensive package.
Drinks brought to the room, a massage, and a lap dance. ✓✓✓
Then she flipped to song choices... Zane scrambled to pick the best ones, it wasn't easy picking what song she wanted to have playing while getting dicked down by a yautja. The song had to be perfect.
Toxic Pony, it was.
The tablet processed her request as she finished, ringing a light on Rax's smooth wrist gauntlet.
He sauntered over while tapping his claws on his gauntlet, his voice sweet as maraschino cherries, "An adventurous choice... I like the brave ones best."
They clinked their wrist wallets together--the transaction chirping its completion.
Rax then pushed her back into the soft pillows of the chair, snatching her hand and placing it on his forehead for one blissful moment...then he dragged their knitted fingers down to his mouth and licked her palm, long and hot.
He purred, "We begin then." He dropped her hand and sauntered back over to the private stage.
His leg wrapped around the stripper pole seductively, prepared.
The music began with a dirty bang.
Zane reassured herself that she only had to get him to accept money for sex for her plan to work.
###
His skin shone like rhinestones as he winded himself around the pole, hypnotic as he spun sinuously.
His orchid eyes never leaving hers.
Displaying a fierce control over his body when he used only a crinked leg to spin the whole of himself around the pole, his hands then free, glided lewdly and erotically over his chest and neck. Petting himself.
His pierced forked tongue curling at her suggestively as he hung upside down.
Zane was burning from the inside out. Opening her legs wide on the chair and drinking deeply from a bottle of spumante.
He chuckled at that, bubbly and effervescent as the drink on her tongue. He righted himself up on the pole, rooting his feet, his hands viced above his head, he began to grind at the air.
His legs rippled with coils of writhing muscle as he undulated for her expense. Those glowing pink eyes of his boiling with overwhelming passion.
He was using his best assets to allure her... Zane felt the flood of arousal that was nesting between her legs begin to overflow the brim of her underwear.
Her thong was going to be ruined by the end of this.
Her blood pressure was rising. This was getting so hot!
Rax parted his jaws unmercifully, swelling his chest teasingly and breathing in her scent.
The cheeky bastard slipped down into a crouch against the pole, dancing on his knees, licking at the air, and actually purred aloud, "I see you are enjoying me. You are sweet as you look."
Zane felt her eye twitch, thoroughly enthralled but wanting to push her fantasy some more.
"I would enjoy you more on my lap," she spoke with no quaver to her voice.
His eyes curved into lush mirthful crescents as he grovelled in his dance. Down to the floor he writhed in his explicit dance like a cat in heat, before crawling toward her open legs...
His huge hands encompassed both knees, before his whole body slipped and rose between them, rising onto his knees between her own, his hips swaying them from side to side.
Lust coiled in her belly... She had never been this close to a yautja before...
Rax smelled of heavenly frangipani. All summer heat and ocean breeze.
His bright eyes, just above his dazzling jaw-jewelery, she had just noticed were rimmed with the darkest kohl.
He gripped her knees tightly before yanking and lifting her up against his groin and again danced, grinding against her.
Her crotch was on fire as she spluttered out a string of nonsense.
He latched onto her surprise, bucking her, "Is this what you want... Little book girl?"
Zane could barely make two thoughts rub together, gasping as welcomed pleasure shot up her spine.
She helplessly gripped the front of his leather harness, gasping out an airy challenge, "What I want you couldn't possibly offer...!"
His purr deepened, as he changed the tempo of his dance, reclining himself backward into a bridge that she suddenly was straddling.
Zane was in heaven.
"...Is this better ? " he growled, letting her hold herself above him independently as he focused on gyrating in his illicit dance beneath her... dragging her down every pleasure-saturated bump along the way.
Zane held onto him, meeting every one of his beat-matching thrusts... Feeling suddenly and with no shorts of embarrassment, the wicked fireball of a surprise orgasm making its happy way through her gut.
The booze had loosened her control.
Her unwanted celibacy had her keyed up.
And now it was just a countdown to launch.
Rax must've sensed the threads of her energy tighten, her body thrumming in troubled heat because his hands glided up her body to hold her in place against him.
His voice buttery and soft, "... Go on and cum. Naughty little thing."
A rather undignified grunt left her lips as her orgasm ripped through her.
Squeeze after squeeze... her pussy throbbed and bucked until her orgasm had finished all its wicked way with her and left her puddled against Rax, wilted and shuddering.
Oh, sweet god.
It wasn't supposed to have happened like that, Zane chided herself.
She was supposed to make the yautja randy enough to accept her dubious proposal and then blackmail Peo with his club's illegal and illicit activities.
Not... make herself go to church! Her face glowed hotly with embarrassment at her screw-up.
Rax pulled them both up to their feet, carding some of her dangling hair away from her face to better assess his client's emotions.
He crooned light-heartedly, "I've made dignitaries, and the most steely-heart politicians shoot their loads faster than you. There is no need for any embarrassment."
Rax led her toward a massage table off to the side of the room, helping her hop up onto it.
Speaking with good nature, Rax supplies, " Let's wind down the excitement a bit, hm? Continue with the massage. Is there anything you need as I prepare?"
Zane scrambled to pick back up control of the situation... There was still the massage left. She could salvage this!
"I would like you to be naked for the massage," Zane demanded softly, digging her fingers into the leather table to ease her nerves.
Rax cocked his head at this, trilling quietly to himself. Zane was quick to amend his reluctance or confusion at her request, stammering her way through an excuse, "Just that if I have to be naked... I would like...not to be the only one..."
Rax snorted out a cute, exasperated laugh. Fuschia eyes slitting in delight, "Already over your shyness, yes? We can both be naked for the rest of the session, as you wish."
Zane blew a breath out that she didn't know that she was holding in and began to divest her clothing.
Carefully, she piled her clothes off to the side including her sodden underwear, to then lay across the table face-first.
The leather pillow felt divine on her skin, helping cool her flushed face.
Rax's voice cut across the low light of the room as he rifled through some cabinets, "Do you need a warm towel?"
Rax must've been some sort of arousal wizard, her pussy was ramping up again already--aching at every enchanting word that came spilling out of his mouth.
She shuffled on the massage table to hide her predicament. A warm towel would be amazing right about now... But that would cover bits of her body that she wanted to remain naked and bare.
She needed to seduce Rax. Not look like Snuggles the laundry bear.
"No, thank you, Rax. "
Zane flipped onto her side, poising like Cleopatra come unraveled in her carpet, to impose the best features of her body, only to be stopped dead in her tracks as she watched Rax peel out of his snowflake white lingerie.
Her jaw hung open.
Never had she been so flattered at how unbelievably ugly she was in comparison to him. She was the ugly duckling just happy to be in the same pond this beauty waded in.
Her eyes feasted over all his naked body without a care in the world. Seeing him naked was worth all the humiliation.
Again, his skin shimmered as if it was oiled in sugar--moonlight glowing on a blue lagoon.
His legs and back jumped with ferine muscle that looked just as formidably protective and thick as the hull of one of those deep space freighters.
Her mouth watered.
He turned, hands filled with bottles of oils and lotions, his groin completely bared.
She choked on spit.
She had never seen an yautja sheath, but her mind had conjured some imaginations, she thought of it clinically like a closed snit.
It was not like that. At all.
The sheath was not fully closed, it had a relaxed opening that fully advertised the head of flaccid penis.
Rax had sliver rings pierced along the lips of his sheath, and his cock laid dormant like a dragon slumbering on a fleshy mountain edge.
He was big... Big even by flaccid standards. His cock uninterested in the sight of her was still peeking out naturally, as if his body and his sheath could not contain it even as relaxed as it was.
His balls were held in a shiny armored sack of rigid muscle and scales. They too, looked like they held an entire empire of spawn within them.
His body was glorious to gaze upon.
Rax swaggered over to the table, setting the bottles in a precise and well-remembered manner. His eyes sparkling mirthfully at how untoward and unabashedly she gawked at him.
Zane could not help it, "You are... ' she was going to say beautiful, but checked herself, that was too sappy, too emotional, and settled instead with, '...damn fine..."
I'm a idiot. Zane internally chided herself.
Rax clacked his jeweled mandibles deeply amused, leaning in and pressing her face into the leather pillow, his voice tickling her ear.
"Relax and let daddy take care of you."
Zane found her body was about as lively or useful as a deboned chicken, following instantly his beckon to relax, her slack body abandoning her plan of seduction.
Rax dragged a sultry taloned finger slow down her spine, counting out loud every little notch. Then he sighed, gentle and low, "I'll start first with the oil as I would any fine weapon in my collection."
Zane's mind sparked at the story. "What weapon do I resemble?"
Rax hummed thoughtfully, stroking her skin with the first of the warmed oil, "You are slender and clever. Crafted like you could balance on the tip of my finger. But there's something else about you... Something concealed under your mask... You are a dagger. "
Zane's heart suplexed into her fucking throat, dread flowing through her veins like crashing water.
She tired to lift herself but he pressed her back down into the table with a flourish. Rubbing and rolling his large yet impressively dextrous fingers down every aching muscle in her back.
His voice for a first time edged with sterness, "You will be a good girl for me. You are dirty and I won't have my dagger leaving its sheath filthy as you. It must be remedied, as all good yautja know to be law."
Zane blanched, sagging helplessly as he snuffed out every pain in her body--buffing out every crink that was burrowed in her muscles.
Rax purred lewdly, "That's a good girl. Letting me take care of you."
Zane struggled to cling to her keenness, her thoughts as foggy as sex-clouded windows.
"I think there has been some sort of a mistake..." she whined as his fingers pressed into a stubborn knot.
Rax tutted, the metal jewelry along his jaws clinking like glass clashing in celebration. "No mistakes, only little games... you little dagger, oh you've had your blade at my throat ever since you first laid eyes on me."
Zane stuttered, "...H-how did you know?"
Rax climbed up on the strong table behind her, caging her in and really digging his fingers into her shoulders, every finger curled over the pale flesh of her collar.
His spoke right into her ear, "It was your pretty eyes. I know the look, I've hunted across the stars long before you were even a twinkle in your father's eye. You need more practice, little hunter, before trying to fuck me over."
True terror was spiking inside her blood.
His hands glided to her throat, lifting her head back so she couldn't look away as he glared down at her from above.
He growled deep in his chest, "Are we dropping the game, Zane?"
She couldn't nod viced so tightly in his grip, so she whimpered instead, "...Yes ..."
His demeanor all but changed, letting go of her throat and continuing with his massage.
Bluntly, he trilled, "You will get all you paid for. And more."
Her brain was refusing to cooperate, trying to make those neuron connections... Did she hear him right?
"...What?"
He chuckled, "I told you before, I like the brave ones best. I can smell your desire. I would be a poor male indeed to let you walk out without fulfilling it."
Zane hissed confused, "But my whole plan was to... seduce you."
He wagged his finger across her skin, "Your plan was to pay me for sex. Which would be illegal. But I'm not taking your money, you naughty treat. Sex in the workplace is frowned upon, but for you, I think it would be just dessert for all your efforts."
"But I lied to you... I was going to like, really fuck you over...why would you want to?"
Rax bucked his hips against her from behind. A dark spike of heat blurring her vision at his bold action.
"... Think of it as a kink. I like when my females dare to conspire against me. It makes the next part so much more fun."
Shitting hell !!
Her pussy flooded like a dam gate opening.
He rocked against her, the bumping music filling her ears once again, "Yeeesss... Aren't games just so much fun? I prefer the ones with rewards at the end, don't you?"
Zane gasped out a rock-solid, "Yes!"
The room exploded into action. The music blaring.
Rax slid down her elegantly, snatching her hips in his hands, canting her pussy up into the air and without any preamble,
His metal bobbled tongue dove straight into her cunt, winding and twisting as he lapped up her arousal unapologetically, testing the soaked pliancy of her flesh.
Zane felt like she was going to die. The pleasure was immeasurable--feeling as though she was floating up into ambered, sunset clouds. A piece of mashed fruit inside a glass of sangria.
He licked her entrance with a purr, snaking his tongue into looping lazy circles that sunk slowly lower and deeper into her pussy.
He hungered at her hole like a bear digging in the honeycomb.
But there was no denying the skillful way his tongue winded and lashed her insides, her heart nearly stopping under the ministrations of his spectacular cullinigus.
His forked tongue made both goo and coo, until the forked tip slithered to make contact with her nerve-blazing clit.
The studs of metal striped down his tongue rubbed against her pussy folds, as the dexterous tines of that wicked tongue slashed at her clit until she was shaking.
pop pop pop
In quick succession her pussy fluttered, and she startled at the sensation until the telling stars danced in her head, her body wilting into the heat of an orgasmic inferno... She realised that she has come in a series of dragged and ripped out climaxes; her pussy left sore and hot just like a gattling gun spending its clip.
She tried to breathe.
And an ache made itself known as she came down from her peak, as her lungs filled, it felt like fingers sliding on a bruise.
She had never had an orgasm quite like that...where sound became swirling color, the music swarming around them like golden flakes and rainy astigmatism.
The bleeding colors of an aural migraine. Zane spun mindlessly inside the husk of her body.
Thinking that this was perhaps how one felt in their last moments right as bullet shredded into the tender pulp of consciousness. All ripped apart thought and electrified memories. Broken skull shell and superheated blood.
Rax was there to stir her back to some form of fuggy wakefulness as she lay there on the table like a stunned fish.
His caramel voice oozing with sexual dominance, "Come back, I'm not done with you yet."
"Ugnnrr..." was her only response. His cock dragged across the small of her back with foreboding promise.
He lined that huge alien cock at her spasming pussy. The cockhead feeling as large as a small apple being pressed into her heat.
Rax lined up his powerful body, adjusting himself and her so that she was slumped and primed for the best skull-rattling doggy style this side of the universe.
He fish hooked his fingers into her mouth, gaping open her mouth so her vocalisations wouldn't be hindered by troublesome human lips.
Zane couldn't move her head or body in this pose without stinging retribution. He had complete control over her, and as he docked that ribbed yautja cock, beginning his descent into her struggling cunt he assured her, "Squeeze your cunt all you want until your comfortable. I do not mind the battle your flesh will inflict."
Wetly, he popped one hand out of her mouth, sliding it under her body.
He held her belly from behind as pressed his cock into her, trying to soothe the burning stretch of his cock etching its way into her body.
"Give me your hand... little hunter. "
Mindlessly she did, lacing her fingers in his, gently he pressed her palm up against the cup of her paunch and she felt it, the ridge of his cock distending her lower belly.
He rolled his hips to bump that bizarre swell of flesh into their joined hands. "You feel your body making room for me? Is it not so sweet? I'm almost all the way in."
Zane gagged on his fingers bridling her mouth, unable to respond.
Rax sunk the rest of the way inside, wheeling his hips to ream her open more. Zane had never felt more stuffed in her entire life, even her organs felt as though they shifted and redirected their functions.
"Let's see how good you can take yautja cock..." he declared, gripping her head securely with both hands again, fingers drowned in her mewling mouth, as he began to thrust.
Zane almost didn't feel anything... The sting of her cunt stretched beyond maximum capacity was blazing like freezer burn and had all but gone numb.
Her pussy folds dumbstruck by the oddness of his sensational penis.
But her vaginal walls were gallivanting helplessly with his cock's strange ridges. She moaned on his thick fingers, all her cries spilling out of her like winning coin slots.
Her pussy clamped down and fought tooth and nail against his invading and different flesh but he was relentless in his pursuit for pleasure, hijacking her along with him...
But he made sure to road rash her along the highway of lust, while making their mutual way to climax.
Zane from the past would have thought she would've cum and then he would've cum, that sex was motioned with chronicle climaxes.
Ladies first, boys last.
But here... there was no order to the chaos that was erupting at their connected bodies. She was cumming all over the fucking place. Her flesh made of firing confetti and spiraling nerves.
Her neck burned along with her mouth and pussy. Her mind wallowing in the deep saturated reds of her melting brain.
His cock bullied as it also blessed every sinew of her cunt. Rax was grunting with his brow furrowed, his forearms shaking under the rigid control he displayed over his own limbs... If not for his control, Zane knew that he could rip her head in half.
One bubble of pleasure too much and she could be accidentally killed.
She tried to tell him as much but could only blubber and whine around his sharp talons, his fingers tasting sharp as wine.
Rax continued to doggedly pound into her from behind until her neck felt like it might actually crack from the force of his thrusts. Twisted and yanked back, her teeth clicking against his talons, saliva dribbling.
He panted, slamming into her and held himself still. Zane nearly shrieked as she felt every cord of his dick pulse on the edge of a male climax.
He was holding back, the muscles of his body moving like molten steel, his voice raw and ragged, "You feel so good...naughty girl, do you want me to show you exactly how good you make me feel?"
Zane moaned pitifully into his hand, her thoughts frazzled and disarray like dozens of cheap buttons spilled from a drawer.
His cock throbbed, their flesh finding that timeless frisson of contending sensation...but yet he held himself still inside her, patient and stoic.
His voice the slow drip of sin itself, "Do you want me to paint your pretty little pussy? Or do you want me to cum deep inside you? "
Zane gurgled, licking desperately at his fingers now.
Rax hummed teasingly, sinking his fingers deeper into her split mouth, "How about one squeeze for outside, two squeezes for inside... And three for both."
Zane clenched her pussy three times, her vaginal walls shivering in anticipation.
His body roared to life with the end all. Hammering into her body without control but not without precision. Muscle memory, the recounts of countless trysts and ruttings feeding primal knowledge into his body...
He thrusted into that sweet spot with well trusted instinct, Zane exploded, bearing down on his concrete hard cock like a dog gnawing at a bone.
Rax huffed surprised by the sheer strength of her last orgasm, catching and fighting against the tight squeeze until a rush of fresh slick smoothed the way into her deepest parts. "Mmm. Helping me along aren't you? Good girl. I won't make you beg for it any longer. "
Zane was scattered and incorporeal, a ghost rooted and stuck to haunt the grounds of this divine cock jacking in and out of her.
She felt all fight leave her, simply left to take it, her body feeling as though it opened even further to receive his cum and all it entailed.
Rax moved fluidly now-- possessed by the need to follow through and seed her.
His claws left her mouth with a spatter of drool to rake across the vinyl walls, leaving ribbons of wallpaper drooping in his wake. His mandibles tight against his face.
A pool of hot semen filled her cunt. Rax shuddered and groaned deliciously against the impulse to roar out his fulfillment behind her. His fist and all its talons still digging perilously into the wall as his cock pulsed.
Then he pulled out with a wet pop, fisting his cock and draining the last rich spurts of cum across her bruised folds and ass.
A dribble of pearly spunk flowing out of her tight hole spilled onto the leather table like white magma.
Rax leaned back to inspect his work, spreading her ass cheeks before playfully swatting her.
He sucked in a deep cleansing breath before lifting her up into his arms. Zane was utterly boneless, muttering incoherently.
Rax lifted her toward the corner of the room where a large booth was situated, laying her down gently.
"I wouldn't try walking just yet. Rest. Have a nap. I'll have an escort sent down to collect you in an hour. There's no showers here... But there's a hotel not too far down the street, you will find that room 303 is prepaid and you will be invited to stay there for the next two days. I would also suggest you make use of all its services."
Zane scrambled to find her voice, feeling small and meek but yet fulfilled and sated in a way she never was before, "...why? You could just toss me out into the street."
Rax titled his head flippantly at this, chuckling, "While you may no longer be an employee of the Blue Moon... and conspired against the club's best interests. That does not mean you aren't a paying client with a whole lot of spunk. One that has earned some tenuous respect."
Rax started dressing himself back into his white lingerie straps and tidying up the room, he tutted sourly at the tattered strips of wallpaper sagging over the massage table.
The loss of control obviously not something he relished.
Zane tried to move but quickly stopped herself... Yeah, a nap was definitely needed. She felt like she had just gone several rounds with a fighting champion.
Rax picked up the last of his belongings, cutting across the room to leave when Zane spoke up again groggily from her place on the couch.
"You don't want to stay? At least until my ride shows up,?"
Rax fluttered his hypnotic fuchsia eyes at her, smiling in that endearing and strange yautja way, "... I have to get back to work now, Zane. They have a human saying for this..."
He paused at the door, rapping his talons across the frame as he pondered, strobing light from the hall spilling into the room like watercolors.
"Ah, yes...' his eyes bright and dancing as he regarded her for the last time, '... there's no rest for the wicked."
###
Peo waited out on his office balcony for the first rays of the sun to heat against his little scales.
The radio had advertised a break in the stormy plume above the city... His tiny heart raced at the idea of spending his off day basking in the sun.
To share this sunny day with his dearest friend.
The apple of his little reptile eye, who was currently dealing with a rather unsavory problem below. A nasty thorn that had been stuck in his side for a long while now. Rax had obliged himself to help him be rid of it.
Peo polished down another beer, lining up the empty can along the iron railing.
Rax would enjoy plinking them off the banister into the street below. Peo smiled warmly at that, his mind richened with thoughts of Rax sharpshooting with all the steely nerved grace of an olden day cowboy.
He folded his small hands into his lap and waited for the sun, and for Rax. He did not know which one stirred him with more hopeful anxiety.
Rax appeared as he normally always did, a traveling shadow, like a dark stone hidden underwater, that only when lifted from the water would shine its most brilliant blues.
Rax stepped out into the sun of the balcony, glimmering. His leather jacket glossy under the morning light, a telling after-sex cigarette pinched between his mandibles.
But even from under the sultry smoke of his cigarettes, Peo could detect that heavenly ocean crisp scent on his skin, the lingering smear of slick, the delicate poolside scent of Rax himself.
Rax peered at him from under his dark shades, winking, "...The little imp is gone. All is safe and sound now, my friend."
Peo let out a tight breath, curling his tail flirtatiously. His heart a troublesome ache that he pressed behind closed doors, "Good. I owe you a drink then."
Rax began flicking the cans off the rail with little pebbles that lined the planter boxes below the windows. His aim impeccable.
Peo wondered idly how long he had known Rax... Certainly it had been for the majority of his lifetime... Thirty years now.
It had been twelve years since they had opened the club together.
Time. He just needed a little more time for Rax to finally see him.
Peo clicked his sharp tongue, adverting his gaze from his beautiful friend to gaze upon the city below, his voice soft and wispy, "Did she get sent to the hotel?"
Rax shrugged, taking a seat next to him with his arm folded behind his head, basking as well. His eyes shut with contradicting serenity mixed with a tired hangover, the smeared eyeliner hidden under his sunglasses. He spoke matter-of-factly, "You shouldn't have shelled out for a room for her. "
Peo peeled off the beer label on his bottle in chunks, humming thoughtfully, "It's better to pay those kinds of people off."
Rax brought his tusk-pinched cigarette to his mouth sucking in a long drag before billowing the smoky cloud out above them.
"Those kind of people will always come back sniffing for more."
Peo smiled, whipping his tail playfully at Rax's dangling hand. "That's why you're here. You're the muscle who defends the brains."
Rax shook with silent laughter, winding his kinky tail around his fingers to softly stroke it with his thumb.
Rumbling aloud, "You try having any brainpower after the past couple days I've had. I feel just like the olive in a martini."
Peo smiled with his eyes, tossing a silver can of beer at Rax who caught it deftly no matter the potency of his hangover, "Well, would you like some hair of the dog?"
"I couldn't say no..." Rax spoke with a tiny peek of coyness, angling himself into a better patch of sun that just so happened to be the same one Peo also laid in.
The beers cracked open with a crisp pop. They brought their drinks together, clinking them in celebration,
Peo spoke first before the foam could coat his upper lip and Rax could laugh at his expense, "... Here's to making it another day with our heads still attached ... And to winning so we may fight the good fight again!"
What remained unsaid under the rare glowing sun, there under the dimmed neon lights of the Blue Moon was,
-and to friends who we wish could see our hearts.
.end.