9. Succubus
We were two weeks out of cryo when we picked up the distress signal. We were on a routine scavenge run, a parsec out, and MSTRUS had woken us for the final approach.
< … please *kzt* save us… >
"Fuck 'em." Garret had received news that his daughter had gotten sick while we were on ice. "We don't have the time OR the fuel to waste on a bunch of corpses."
Garret and I had been running salvage for over a decade; near a century with cryo. I'd learned to trust his instincts. We had no way of knowing how long that signal had been looping. MSTRUS traced its origin to 4-Sigma-s, but long-range scans couldn't penetrate the planet's dense, turbulent atmosphere.
"Unfortunately," said Arbee, "it is not our decision to make". According to the charter, willfully ignoring a distress call would result in a hefty fine for the salvage company.
"And then we'll all be out of a job," I added.
Fletcher took a long, slow drag on her cigarette. "Right then, chaps, who's up for a suicide mission?"
/p>
The Sigman sky was dense with clouds of ice crystals. They buffeted and scraped at the hull, and rubbed together to create a labyrinth of lightning. Our circuitry was fried. It was only by the grace of our ship's brutal design, that our descent slowed enough to not shatter on impact. Unless we could make repairs, we were stranded.
Sigma was in syzygy with its binary stars. Heat from the perigean star was weak enough for the ice clouds to form, and the cloud cover trapped the heat that sprayed from geysers dotted about the surface. It was temperate, almost pleasant. The area surrounding our landing was covered in cyan foliage and large pastel flowers.
Down on the surface, we were able to trace the distress signal to its source. Without the distortion of the atmosphere, we finally heard its message in full:
< Please, don't try to save us. There's a demon here! >
The downed ship appeared to be a research vessel. It clearly had an even worse landing than our own. And the level of corrosion and overgrowth on the ship's exterior suggested it had been there for some time.
"A demon…" said Fletcher, unfazed. "What do you make of that, Captain?"
Not exactly encouraging. "Arbee, scan the atmosphere for possible toxins. And cross-reference local flora for known hallucinogenic properties."
"No signs of the crew," Garret noted. "Maybe ALIENS got 'em…"
"I can detect no signs of life within a 50 mile radius, besides your own," returned Arbee. "And there are no toxins or hallucinogens in the air, Captain. It is safe to breathe."
"Fine," I said, removing my helmet. "Garret, Arbee, scout the surrounding area - see if you can find any trace of the research crew, or anything that might indicate what happened to them. Fletcher, survey the ship, see if there's anything we can scavenge for repairs. And grab the flight logs."
"You know we're the aliens here, right?" said Fletcher, sparking up a cigarette.
/p>
Garret never came back.
"I'm sorry, Captain," said Arbee. He almost looked like he meant it. "I could detect no life signs out there."
This wasn't happening. "I'm going to look for him."
"I would advise against that, Captain." Arbee stood in my way. "We do not know what hazards this planet may pose at night."
"Damn it! I won't leave him out there alone! He's…!" Shit. "Arbee… tequilla." When did I get so emotional? "Hey, Fletch, can I cadge a cigarette?"
"Aye, Captain."
Sigh. You were right, Gaz. We should have ignored it.
/p>
I found a cave not far from the landing site. If Garret was still alive, he would have taken shelter here. Scans showed no signs of danger. The air in the cave was cool, the walls damp. There was… a light. That's where I found Garret. What was left of him. His corpse was emaciated, like he'd been sucked dry. His face was fixed in a grotesque rictus. Gods, it almost looked like he was happy.
Deeper in the chamber was a field of large, egg-like objects. A sheet of light hung above them, then dissipated as I approached. There was a fine mist in the air. The eggs were scaley, fleshy, dripping with some viscous liquid. I leaned in, to examine one closer. The top peeled open at my proximity, unfurling like a flower, revealing a yonic orifice.
Suddenly - from the egg, sprang a strange, crab-like creature with a long tail. Its claws grabbed tight to my head, its tail coiled around my throat. It pressed its body against my face, thrusting its proboscis - oddly phallic, oddly human - into my mouth.
I clutched the creature, tried to pull it off my face. Resisting, its tail tightened around my neck. I gasped for air, and the proboscis took this opportunity to penetrate deeper. I tried to push it back with my tongue, but that only seemed to make it swell, grow, filling my mouth.
Then, it felt as if it were thrusting, pounding the back of my throat, making me gag. It allowed no mercy. I struggled, pulling, thrashing against the cave wall, trying to fight the thing off me. No use. Its tail kept squeezing, making me light headed. It gave a final, deep thrust… then spasmed, throbbed, pouring a warm, viscous fluid into my mouth - down my throat. I had no choice but to swallow it.
Spent, the creature released its grip, dropped from my face, and fell to the ground. Dead.
/p>
"Yikes," said Fletcher, "watch where you’re pointing that thing."
An uncomfortable side-effect of my 'encounter' was a raging priapism which refused to settle. "Yes, well, um… Something I ate. I think. It scanned clean, but…"
Fletcher was a mechanic. She'd been at the salvage game longer than any of us. On their last run, her old crew stumbled on a deposit of iridium, which earned them enough credits to get out. But that wasn't for Fletch. She belonged amongst the stars.
"You should get Arbee to check that out." She'd seen it all before. "I'm sure it can help you 'relieve the pressure'," she said, with a filthy wink.
I'd wanted to avoid that option. But after three hours like this, I'd try almost anything. Worst case scenario: Arbee puts me down. Might be for the best. Can't risk bringing a possible parasite back to Earth.
"How are we looking on repairs?" I asked.
"We got lucky with the research ship. A day, maybe two."
"Fine. Keep me posted."
/p>
Arbee's touch was cold as death. "How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?" It was really the only thing that gave him away. "Did you encounter any non-human life-forms? Or consume anything unsafe?"
His scan paused uncomfortably when it reached my chest. "One second, please, Captain." He typed some things I couldn't see into the terminal. "The scans show no anomalies."
I… didn't imagine the incident. Did I? Cave spores, maybe? I was relieved, in any case. But still, "is there anything that can be done about my… symptom?"
Arbee's gears turned… "Have you tried manual stimulation?"
More times than I cared to count. "It has, um… proven resistant to release."
"I see." He cocked his head, curiously. "Would you allow me, Captain?"
He took me in those death cold fingers, and stroked with a mechanical indifference. I'm almost ashamed to admit how incredible his synthetic flesh felt. Maybe that was just the frustration talking. His grip was a little firm, but his hand moved with an elegant efficiency. A smooth, thirty seconds speed gradient, and he already had me on the edge.
"Is this satisfactory, Captain."
"Yes…! Don't talk, just…"
His pace still increasing, he spat a gelatinous fluid, which lubricated his friction warmed flesh. I was so damn close! Why wasn't I getting release? My heart was racing, I was breathless, my vision blurred. I felt the electricity, the sting, the swell of almost pleasure. I felt as though I were close to the Gods themselves, about to transcend. WHY WASN'T THIS WORKING?!
Like holding my breath, like a sneeze that won't come, a bomb about to explode. Millimeters, nanometers, so fucking close to the line. I just… needed…
No… Fuck. Too late. "Okay, stop, stop!" I was aching, I was numb. I was burning with pain. "Damn it, man!" I'd missed it. It wasn't happening. And the machine was going to rub me raw, or else pull my damn dick off trying.
"My apologies, Captain."
"That's fine, Arbee." I needed ice. I needed a drink. I needed something.
"I have another suggestion, if I may. I can have MSTRUS fabricate a 'containment' device. It will not resolve the issue, but it will help to sequester it."
I needed ANYTHING. "Do it."
Arbee once again took my throbbing penis into his chilly palm, and applied pressure just so. Like magic, I actually felt myself soften. He released his grip, and swiftly attached the containment device around my sore member. The speed was vital. As soon as his grip released, I swelled again, filling the device. But it allowed me no further.
"In the 21st century," said Arbee, "devices such as these were known as 'chastity cages'. It is an ironic thing, that they were more often used to enhance sex than prevent it."
"Incredible."
/p>
The second sun was rising, and the ice clouds were melting to a fine rain. "We have to leave now." Our path was clearing, and if we waited much longer, the binary heat would drown us in a boiling monsoon.
"Ignition."
The thrusters sputtered. "Come on, baby," Fletcher muttered. The ship was cloaked in a cloud of vaporised rain, that hissed against the hull. The ship started to sway. "Just a little more…"
BOOM. The thrusters fired, full throttle. The ship rose off the Sigman surface in a roar of flames.
"Nicely done, Fletch." I put my hand on her shoulder. "Now get us the hell out of here."
/p>
"Garret called it," said Fletcher, "we don't have nearly enough fuel to make the salvage and get home."
[MSTRUS] PRIORITY: RETURN TO EARTH.
"If we don't hit that salvage," I said, "none of us are getting paid". It can't have all been for nothing. "Maybe we can find a way-station to re-fuel. Or an outpost. I think the charts had one around--"
[MSTRUS] PRIORITY: RETURN TO EARTH.
"Damn it, Garret can't have died for nothing!"
[MSTRUS] RETURN TO EARTH. ACKNOWLEDGE:_
Fuck… "Yes, MSTRUS."
"Sorry, Cap," said Fletcher. "I'll set our course. Arbee - prep the cryo."
/p>
There was a thud, a crash, a horrific screech that seemed to pierce straight into my spine. The cryo-bay - Arbee!
< … demon… save… demon… save… >
The poor bastard had been torn in two. Raw edges. Deep, jagged gashes, like claw marks. He was lying in a pool of frayed wires and thick white blood. We were not alone on the ship.
"What do you suppose could do something like that?" asked Fletcher.
< … demon… >
It didn't look like he fought back. Did he even get the chance? "Power down, Arbee. Rest."
< … s-save… … de… … >
I gave a mournful sigh. "Can he be saved?"
"No." Fletcher lit another cigarette. "Not here. Might find parts back on Earth.
"Good." I couldn't bear to lose another crew member. "Let's get him packed."
"Rest in peace, milk bag," she said, in a cloud of smoke.
/p>
The creature moved in the shadows. Its skin was pitch black, and had a sheen like latex; when it let the light catch it.
We'd split up to hunt the creature. I heard Fletcher's blaster, and followed it to find her shutting herself into the airlock, as the creature's demonic claws scratched violently at the door. I fired at it, and it hissed and screeched and vanished back into the shadows.
"How are you doing in there?" I asked.
"It nicked me. Superficial. But um," she heaved against the door, "I think it's jammed."
"Open the door, MSTRUS"
[MSTRUS] DENIED.
"Shit. Let me try the override," 1-9-7-9.
[MSTRUS] DENIED.
"Come on, MSTRUS," said Fletcher, "let me out already. We've got a fuckin' monster to slay."
The depressurisation warning lit up. "Fuck!" I kept desperately punching in the code, even knowing it wouldn't work. "Please, MSTRUS! Just open the damn door!"
[MSTRUS] PRIORITY: PROTECT AND RETURN SPECIMENS.
It was the first time I'd ever seen Fletcher scared. She was screaming, "open this FUCKIN' door right now, you cunty computer, or I--"
There was no time to mourn. She was with the stars. And I was being hunted.
/p>
There was movement in the shadows. I was on my own now, and the demon was stalking me like a wounded animal. I was cornered.
It pounced on me, knocking me to the ground. I was pinned. Now that I saw it more clearly, this monstrous creature, it looked almost… human. Feminine, even. Her face, strangely familiar. Her tail was long and thin, and whipped and darted about me. The creature seemed to be scrutinizing me, taking a strange interest in my groin. I tried to push her off me, fight back. With a swipe of her claw, I was unconscious.
I couldn't move. My hands were held together above my head, my ankles pulled apart. My clothes had been torn away, exposing the containment device which held my stiffness at bay.
The alien woman was once again examining me. Despite her lack of eyes, she seemed to stare at me with an intense curiosity - almost a hunger. The creature opened her monstrous maw, dripping with an oily saliva, baring her shining, metallic teeth. It let out an ungodly screech that stunned me into paralysis. She crouched, her horrid mouth drawing threateningly closer to my groin. My whole body screamed to flee, but I was helpless to move even an inch. She bit down, violently, on the containment device. I closed my eyes tight. The device shattered, and my raging frustration sprang free.
Was this what she wanted? Maybe this demon could finally relieve my suffering. She drew back, and her mouth revealed a new horror - a tongue like a second, smaller mouth. The small mouth plunged, consuming my penis, taking a firm grip with its tiny teeth. It was painful. It was exciting. It started to suck.
Her tail snaked about, rubbing itself in the creature's saliva. It moved around me, behind me. It found its target. My body seized, as the tail slid into my rectum. It had penetrated me. I felt the sensation of its ridged surface as it moved back and forth. To my shame, I found it almost pleasurable.
Now she wrapped her outer mouth around me. Her two mouths sucking in tandem, moving in counterphase. Her tail, still attacking my prostate. The thing was milking me, trying to suck me dry. Fuck. The sensation was overwhelming. Dying shouldn't feel this good.
My chest was pounding. I was so close to release - finally! Or… no, SOMETHING was pounding on my chest - pushing, trying to force its way out. This was it… I…
I EXPLODED, in a spray of blood and… no. Where was I? Soft light, warm comfort. Familiar surroundings. My cock was pulsing the aftershocks of an orgasm. And something… something warm, wet - it had a hold of me. It was… sucking.
I couldn't move my arms. Why couldn't I move my arms? They were stretched out above my head. A rattle of metal, something holding them in place. The thing, the demon hiding under the bed sheets, she'd stopped sucking. And now she slithered up my body, until we were face to face.
She wiped her mouth, and smiled sweetly, "morning, baby." She pecked me on the lips, "sweet dreams?"