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Penis Envoy Pt 1
Don't read this if you're under 18 or if you find sexual situations
objectionable. This is a for adults. Well, silly adults, but
adults.
(c)2001 by Cat's sara
----
Penis Envoy
by Cat's sara
Categories: FF, MF, FD, MD, MC, SF, Humor
----
Episode 27: The Coming of the Phallusians, Part One
----
"Captain, distress call coming through."
"Acknowledged," answered Captain Ereck Vasdeferens. "On my way." He
roused himself from sleep and staggered to his closet. Wearily donning
his uniform, he looked in the mirror at the still sleeping morale
officer, Tess Dosterohn, who had been sharing his bed lately. The
Vulvan woman had medicinal breath, but by the Moons of Camphor, she was
the best lay he'd had in weeks. She certainly looked more peaceful than
she had a few hours ago, when the noise of their passion was only
barely masked by the pulsing of the Dildonic Drive Thrusters that
powered the ship.
He smiled as he thought of what the next sleep period might bring. But
right now, as Captain of the Labia Majora, he had more important things
to do.
As he made his way down the dimly lit corridors to the bridge, he
wondered why he liked it out here so much. Perhaps it was the
isolation. He had always been a loner. Maybe it was the lure of being
the highest authority in the microcosm of his ship.
No, he decided, it was definitely the babes. All the women on board
were inexorably drawn to his power, and they did their best to seduce
him to win favors, even though it was useless. He was above that kind
of bribery. He wasn't, however, above giving the impression that he was
as easily bought as a cheap pork chop. Especially when the price
involved mind-blowing sex.
Entering the bridge, he looked around at the small crew. "Tell," he
barked. After months in space, no one took it as anything but the
verbal shorthand that had naturally developed by close quarters.
"Scrapship, air trouble, level 'A', ten parsecs," answered Milo "Mo"
Tilliti, who had taken his usual position at tactical. With those few
words he had communicated everything that Vasdeferens needed to know.
Vasdeferens sighed loudly. He wasn't much in the mood for a rescue
mission, but duty had little to do with mood. He turned to his
navigator and control pilot, the siamese twin officers Ganza and Parra
Nokkers. "Plot a course and set Dildonic Thrusters at Nad factor seven.
Let's see what we can do for these folks. Maybe save them." Turning to
Lt. Susha S. Kihsa, his communications officer, he added, "It might be
a good idea to let them know we're coming."
"Should I ask if it was good for them, Captain?" asked Susha,
generating titters through the bridge crew. Mammarians were known for
their love of double-intendre.
"This is no time for levity, Lt. Kihsa. And quit squirming like you
have ultrasonic implants in both of your cunts. It's distracting."
"Yes, Captain," answered Susha, pouting slightly.
"Status report!" growled Vasdeferens.
"Um, well, we're going really fast and we'll be there in two hours,
they have air for six hours, and there's nothing we can do until we get
there," answered Commander Tilliti.
Vasdeferens rubbed his crotch. *Damn that Susha*, he thought. Then, out
loud, "Very good. Lt. Kihsa, please see me in my ready room."
"Yes, Captain."
No one watched them leave out of respect, but Mo rolled his eyes, and
as soon as they were gone, Ganza and Parra gave herself a very
passionate kiss.
"Good thing we have a good supply of Turgidium on board. Vasdeferens
would never make it otherwise," said Mo, under his breath.
----
By the time they got to the foundering ship, the Cuckold, Capt.
Vasdeferens was too raw to walk normally, and the underside of his
tongue felt like it had been subjected to Lesbiconian Clit Torture. He
loved it.
"Ereck, I'm so glad you've never told anyone about the Copularian
Homogenizer you swiped on Eros Prime," cooed Susha, as she licked the
goo out of the that lay between her breasts.
"Only you would even know how to use it, Susha... well, and me, since
you've shown me how the damned thing works," he replied.
"Oh, we've only gone to level three... and there are twenty-two more to
go."
Vasdeferens swooned and giggled - the effects of the Homogenizer still
giving him every emotion and sensation that Susha experienced, and
vice-versa. In another few minutes the unity would be gone, but he was
enjoying it while it lasted.
"By the time we reach twenty-five, you'll think we've completely
switched places," teased Susha. "You might not do so badly with a
tongue and two pussies, Captain baby!"
Vasdeferens grinned and said, "Tess might not be so happy about that,
you know."
"Oh, Tess could be made to see the benefits, I'm sure. She's in charge,
above all else, of keeping everyone happy. We could always just turn on
the Homogenizer with her in the room... the effect increases
exponentially with additional partners... and she'd be wanting to rip
our clothes off, not knowing it wasn't even her own lust. Well, not at
first. Once the pleasure hit, she'd pretty much be lust-putty. And it
would last for fucking *days*," Susha whispered as she smiled. "She'd
make sure *everyone* was... happy."
*This woman is absolutely evil,* thought Ereck. "You Mammarians have no
ethics."
"Not when it comes to sex," agreed Susha.
----
The Cuckold was not a luxury liner by any of the imagination.
Looking at her as a floating image in the main view screen, Vasdeferens
could see the scraped, scarred hull and the vapors created by gases
slowly leaking into empty space.
"Does she have enough stability for ship-to-ship docking?" he asked Mo.
"No sir, our outie would her innie wide open," came the grumbling
response. "It's not really necessary. She only has a crew of six."
Calling down to the shuttle pad, Ereck barked, "Chief, prepare the
Minora for launch."
"Susha, Gonza and Parra, you're with me. We're going over."
Twenty minutes later, the Captain and crew were aboard the Cuckold,
calling for the stranded victims... victims of what looked like crappy
maintenance.
No one was prepared for what they found on the bridge of the cargo
ship.
Vasdeferens thought that he was jaded, that he had seen it all, or at
least thought about most of it.
He was wrong.
At first glance, it was hard to tell where one crewmember ended and the
next began. The smell of sex was overpowering in its intensity, and the
few moans that were escaping the lips of the participants were
impossible to discern from screams of torment.
That was, except for the fact that that on the faces of the crew was a
kind of rapture the Captain and his rescue party had never before seen.
"It's sex, Sir, but not as we know it," said Parra and Ganza in unison,
as slight dribble of sinewy drool escaped Ganza's lips.
The only other sign of anything amiss was the lack of power to the
ship's controls.
"Vasdeferens to sick bay," whispered the Captain, feeling more than a
trifle voyeuristic. "We're going to need six beds and heavy tranqs for
these folks."
"Acknowledged," came the tinny voice of the ship's Swedish doctor, Glan
Zaswehlin.
Once they approached the orgy in progress, the intrepid rescue party
found that they couldn't break the sexual unions apart. The best they
got was the strokes of fingers and tongues and genitals from the
obsessed crew as they were pushed en masse down the passageway to the
docking station and onto the shuttle.
Later, over dinner, the rescuers all agreed that the stimulation had
been nearly irresistible, and that In the end, it was only the threat
of rapidly escaping air that had kept them from joining in.
----
With the Cuckold floating dead in space, and the crew rescued, the
Captain and First Officer figured that it might be a good idea to view
the logs they'd rather sneakily proffered from the ship, without asking
permission.
Of course, the crew of the Cuckold wasn't really available to ask. When
they weren't sleeping under the influence of heavy sedatives, they were
fucking. One woman had already worn out three mattresses with her
bucking and gyrations.
The log wasn't particularly gratifying, however. The only clue it gave
was a communication from another ship, a small vessel only ten meters
long, which identified itself as the carrying the Emissary of the
Phallusian Empire.
The only other clue was a sign that a crew member held up to the rather
intrusive cameras that were standard fare in every starship... in black
magic marker it said, "Beware the Phallusians!"
Nothing else of value had been recorded, so the Captain authorized
copying the scenes of sex on the bridge, which had spontaneously
started a week after the communication with the Phallusians, to use as
porno films for the Labia Majora's onboard library.
No one noticed the little barnacles that were attached to the Cuckold
near the outside access points.
They looked just like little erect nipples.
----
Four Solar days later, the Labia Majora was surprised to hear a hail
from a government ship, asking that they take on a Diplomatic detail.
*Great,* thought the Captain. *Now we'll actually have to clean up the
place and take down the 3D pin-ups from Nymphoslut Magazine. I hate
government work.*
As the three-member Conglomeration team came aboard, Ereck recognized
someone in the party. It was G'wanmuf Divan, a reporter of some note in
the inner ring of the Loose Conglomeration of Indifferent Planets. He
suddenly felt much better.
She was incredibly hot. All the women from Lesbicon Prime were hot.
And she would likely be wanting favors from him. Maybe she'd ask him if
she could seduce Susha, and then let him join in...
The conference with the Head Ambassador, who was from Earth, went
quickly, but it raised a few eyebrows among the senior officers.
"We received a transmission from the Phallusian Empire, wishing to
begin negotiations for a treaty. We, of course, after dealing with the
Shetes and the Yurens, among many others, are interested in bypassing
the usual thirty-year war that is typical of meeting new Empires, Pools
and Nests of other dominant leaning control-freak species who
mistakenly think that, like us, they are the center of the Universe.
"So regardless of their appearance, you will afford the Phallusians
every courtesy. Is that understood, Captain?"
"You lost me after 'received a transmission'," replied Vasdeferens.
"Kidding!" he added, after receiving glowering looks from two of the
visitors. *Sheesh, no sense of humor...*
G'wan did manage to cough and hide her giggle.
----
Tess Dosterohn was not a happy woman. She was a demoralized morale
officer. Ereck obviously thought of her as a great lay, but she knew
that other than that, she was unappreciated.
As she prepared her plan for instructing the crew in the Phallusian
diplomatic protocols, she took a moment to look at her curly, fluffy,
naturally purple hair and birth markings, while letting her prehensile
breasts tease her nipples into a gentle buzz of pleasure. Why did he
not find her as enthralling as other of his species?
She had been trying to get across to him that for her, it was more than
bribery or a passing interested, but he was either too ignorant or
stubborn to see past the end of his cock.
*The is like Odysseus, tied to his mast,* she thought, smiling
grimly.
A tremble of pleasure passed through her as the thought brought forth a
rather perverted image of Ereck, tied to a huge six foot cock that
looked just like his own, listening to her siren call.
She would have to find a way to break through his defenses. Soon.
----
The three nearly transparent plasma containers moved through the
docking airlock and into the corridor. They sparkled as if filled with
thousands of tiny diamonds.
*Great. Intelligence in a zip-lock bag*, thought Vasdeferens. But what
he said was, "I'm Captain Ereck Vasdeferens, Commander of this vessel.
Welcome to the Labia Majora, Your Excellencies. May your stay be
without *ng-gah Whuee.*
"Us did impressed by having native talk our happenstance, Flesh Leader.
You are gratefulled by the *Ooph-harr Drr* of us home. Personal your
language wellness."
*I* told *Mo to get the damned translator fixed!* thought Vasdeferens
as he winced slightly.
"Let me show you to your quarters, Excellencies."
"Goodness," responded the floating plasma bags, in unison.
After leading the newly arrived Phallusian emissaries to their
accommodations, Vasdeferens pulled the Ambassador into a conference
room.
"So tell me what the deal is, please. What are these things?"
"They are a highly evolved species who no longer have a need for bodies
as we know them. The plasma containers basically keep their brain
functions operable. We have reason to believe that if a lesion is
created, that their essence will leak out, and they'll be killed,"
explained the Ambassador. "Several ships have previously come in
contact with them, and, thinking they were merely bags of precious
stones, have opened them. The results were... dramatic, to say the
least.
"The entire crews, whether large or small, in a matter of hours, had
been reduced to sex-starved, obsessed maniacs. We think it is a
hormonal effect created by the interaction with the physical structure
of the ship. The result is a quickly deteriorating ship with a crew who
could care less and less about anything but, to put it in the tamest of
terms, fucking."
The Captain thought for a moment and then decided to confide in the
Ambassador. "We found one of the ships. The Cuckold." He didn't mention
the ominous sign.
"So you've seen it first hand?"
"Yes. And it's pretty much as you described. The crew is in our sick
bay now, either comatose from drugs or trying to have sex. There
doesn't seem to be a middle ground."
"I'd like to see them."
"As you wish."
As they walked to Sick Bay, the Captain had a rather morbid thought,
and said, "Ambassador, have you considered the idea that these
instances might not have been accidents of greed? What if the
Phallusians *want* their plasma bags violated? What if these aren't the
Phallusians at all? What if they're 'smart bombs' or something else
we've never considered?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Captain," sniffed the Ambassador.
----
Pegren Smegma watched his monitor. The humans were acting just as they
should. He listened and responded through the Remote Controllers that
had been passed off as native Phallusians. Humans were, if nothing
else, gullible. Too much television, most likely.
The before him in the monitor looked like a pretty easy target. He
also looked like the leader.
"Leader me Ereck Vasdeferens, Screwplate reasonable. Big here us
you. Future hope *Fuck In The Ass* please no."
Pegren winced. *I told N'gorge to fix the damned translator.*
He responded as best he could. "Amazing. You are already learning our
language so well. Very pleased to make your honorable acquaintance,
Leader. We wish you the highest of Transcendent Orgasms. May you and
yours always enjoy health."
"Big Cahuna room place find happy," said the human leader.
"Of course."
----
Tess looked in on the Phallusians floating in their compartment. To put
it succinctly, she was spying, but she had permission. No one really
trusted the Phallusians as of yet, and observation was the order of the
day.
The quarters were obviously much larger than needed, and had fresh
flowers placed on a very modern looking Formica table, and a large bed,
which had no use. Having had no warning about the physicality of the
Phallusians, she had, quite simply, no way of knowing how to prepare.
She didn't mind. They seemed content and grateful, and she had done her
best.
She was about to turn off the screen and go to bed when the door to the
Phallusians' compartment slid open. She gasped as she saw who entered.
It was G'wanmuf Divan, the reporter.
Tess moved her hand back away from the switch and watched intensely.
The Lesbiconians were legendary. In their particular thirty years war,
Earth had nearly fallen to Lesbicon Prime. The women of Lesbicon
emitted a strong pheromone that no woman could resist. It dulled
reasoning and engendered worship. Scary stuff. It was also the subject
of many of Tess's more forbidden fantasies.
The treaty with the Lesbiconians assured that their organic weapon
would never be used on an Earth ship or any other humans, but there had
been rumors of rogues from time to time.
Even G'wanmuf's rise through the GalaxyVision News had been a source of
speculation for the more cynical. For a morale officer, Tess was as
cynical as they came.
Tess's eyes widened as G'wan approached and caressed the plasma bags.
Her hand slipped slowly inside the energy field of one, and her eyes
closed as her back arched.
Tess gasped. She could see Divan's nipples from the monitor.
Tess marked her quarters for privacy and plugged in a pair of
headphones. She didn't want to miss any of this. She kicked the volume
up another notch.
The plasma bags surrounded the reporter and... well, they
*grew*.
G'wan slipped out of her clothes, slowly and seductively teasing the
unseen camera, as if she were putting on a show just for Tess. The
plasma bags slowly wrapped themselves around her, becoming incredibly
thin, and began pulsating, diamond lights and spectral brilliance... as
if they were part of the woman's skin.
Tess couldn't look away. Tess didn't want to look away. Tess was
getting very, very wet.
Without warning, G'wan faced the camera, and Tess gasped. Her
eyes, even the whites, were completely black.
Then, suddenly, the monitor went blank.
"Shit!" yelled Tess, jumping up and throwing off her headphones. She
ran from her room, and down to the corridor to the visitors' quarters.
"Double shit!" she cursed, as she saw that the security guards were
gone.
She opened the door and ran in.
Right into a brick wall of lust.
The door closed behind her.
"Lovers, let me introduce you to Tess Dosterohn. She's our first new
recruit."
"Recruit?" repeated Tess. It was suddenly so hard to think. Of...
Anything... But... Fucking... G'wanmuf.
Tess felt the drool running from her mouth but could not stop it. She
moaned as her hands came up to her chest and pulled her nipples,
twisting them cruelly..
"We never let on that we were also telepathic," crooned G'wan. "You
might as well enjoy this. You don't have any choice, anyway. Between
the pheromones and my mind, you are nothing but a slave."
Tess was beyond arguing. "Might... as well... enjoy... slave..." she
moaned. Her body convulsed in a riptide of pleasure that carried her
out to a sea of wanton, thoughtless abandon.
Her hair resting on the skin of her neck created ringlets of pleasure
that moved outward and downward across her body. It wasn't in her to
resist. She wanted to help. *I want to help,* she thought.
*I know you do, Tess. And I haven't even touched you yet. And more
importantly, neither have the Lust Makers,* came G'wan's thought, deep
inside Tess's psyche. She came, hard, as the truth came to her in a
Tsunami of Understanding. As her orgasm carried her into deeper and
deeper water, she realized that the Phallusians were not these...
things... but it didn't matter... and she would never tell... she just
wanted to fuck and be fucked, mouth to to mouth to in a
glorious sixty-nine of Lesbiconian bonding....
*And Tess... we haven't even begun seducing you...*
----
To be continued...
----
*Please send any comments or feedback to cats_sara@yahoo.com. Please
mention the name of the in the subject line. Thanks for reading!*
*- sara*