A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody

The Broot roared at her, his breath hot in her face. "Go away!" he shouted, flexing his arms and flashing his claws just inches from her face. Some instinct, perhaps a remnant of Rick Randall's humanity or just a streak of decency in the monster's heart, kept him from lashing out at a tiny helpless girl; but Veena knew it wouldn't last forever. "Broot wants to be left alone!"

Veena stared at him for a long moment, meeting her eyes with his own, gazing calmly and without fear at his transcendent fury. "All right," she said at last.

"Dumb girl leave Broot...huh?" The creature's face contorted in confusion.

"I told them to leave, Broot," Veena said. She continued to play as she spoke, the motions of weaving her spell natural and instinctive after thousands of years of practice. "See? They're all leaving, now." She turned slightly, looking at the superheroes as the Broot did the same. Sure enough, those who could still move were helping to drag, pull, and carry the other superheroes out of sight...and hopefully, Veena thought, out of mind as well.

The Broot blinked slowly for a moment, nictating membranes half-closing beneath his eyelids as he carefully considered what was (for him) a very complex idea. Finally, he puffed out his chest in obvious pride. "Good!" he said. "Broot showed them! Broot is the strongest, Broot is the toughest!" He slapped his chest in triumph. "Broot won!"

"You won," she said, continuing to play her veena as she talked in slow, dulcet tones. "You wanted to be left alone, and now we are alone."

Broot frowned. "Now you go too, dumb girl. Take dumb music and run away, like others!" He gestured angrily, as if he expected her to run screaming from the sight of him. Then again, Veena was sure most people did. This close, she could sense the loneliness and sadness underneath the rage. He always said he wanted to be left alone, but Veena could tell that was because he preferred solitude to fear and hatred.

"But if I leave," she said patiently, allowing her music to seep slowly, gently into his mind as she talked, "then the others will come back. They'll fight you again. They'll bring soldiers."

"Bah!" the Broot snarled. "Dumb soldiers! Soldiers are weak! Soldiers not stop Broot!" He flexed again, the remains of Rick Randall's old clothes nearly popping at the seams under the stress of the massive muscles. It was amazing that they'd held up as long as they had, really. Doctor Randall must have kept in the habit of buying loose, stretchy outfits.

"Of course not," Veena replied deferentially. "But they won't give up trying. They'll keep bothering you, and you won't be able to enjoy the peace and quiet here. It's better to just let me stay for now, so that you won't be bothered by anyone else."

The Broot's eyes softened a bit. "Girl can stay," he said at last, sighing a little as he let his muscles relax slightly. "But girl must stop making music! Music makes it hard for Broot to think!"

"But you don't like to think, do you, Broot?" she said, layering in more subtle and complex harmonies as she spoke. "Thinking is what Doctor Randall does, not you."

For a moment, Veena worried that she'd made a mistake in bringing up Doctor Randall. Broot roared in fury at the mere mention of the name, looking around as if he expected to see the other man walking through the trees to meet them. "Randall!" he growled out. "Broot will crush Randall! Broot will...will..." Broot pouted a little as he trailed off. "Randall always hides from Broot," he said at last. "Randall is afraid of Broot. But Broot is not afraid of anything!"

Veena could see it in his eyes and his body language, that subtle slackening of tension that told her the music was working its spell on him. In the past, that alone might have been enough to trigger the transformation back to Doctor Randall; without adrenalin, the Broot's genetic structure couldn't sustain its new configuration. But the Broot was more than just a cocktail of animal genes designed to create a new and better human that could survive on alien worlds; it was an expression of all the parts of Richard Randall's personality that he had denied. And he had been denying them so hard for so very, very long...

"Randall...Randall tries to get rid of Broot with dumb science, tries to think Broot away," the Broot continued. "Then dumb squishy brain-man thinks Broot right back. All the dumb science and thinking is...is..." Broot scratched his head with talons that could rend steel, but which barely even dug into his near-indestructible flesh.

"Dumb?" Veena supplied.

"Dumb!" Broot smiled, the expression almost adorable in a hideous way. "Thinking is dumb, so Broot listen to pretty girl's music that makes thinking stop."

Veena fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly. "You think I'm pretty, Broot?" she asked. She'd already suspected he did; this close, she could feel all the churning emotions within him. His body language wasn't exactly subtle, either. But she'd know for sure when he responded.

And he did respond, not just with his voice but with his body. "Girl is...pretty, yes," he sighed out, his own eyes now looking more than a little vacant as the song worked its way inside his thoughtless thoughts. Doctor Randall's clothes strained again, this time in a different spot as they struggled to contain a growing bulge in the Broot's pants.

"Thank you, Broot," she purred out, and she saw his cock outlined against the fabric. It was massive, far larger than Veena could possibly hope to take into herself. "Oh, Broot," she whispered sympathetically, imagining just how difficult it must have been for him--for them, over the years. Rick feared the release of the monster within whenever he gave in to his passions; and as for the Broot, how could he possibly find a woman who could survive such passion when it was unleashed?

She set down her veena, letting it play itself for a time. Although she enjoyed the experience of physically playing the instrument she'd spent millennia practicing, she could tell that her hands were going to be otherwise occupied for a while. "Let me help you with that," she said, walking over to the Broot and tugging the stretchy clothing off of his body.

It shredded in her hands as she pulled, ripped apart by the dermal denticles of his sandpapery skin, and his cock sprung free to stick straight out in front of him at around Veena's eye level. Carefully, she reached out a hand to touch it, and was rewarded with a long groan of pent-up desire.

"That's right, Broot," she said, carefully stroking it along the 'grain' of the rough skin, "you like to be touched like this, don't you?"

"Broot...Broot likes, yes, likes pretty girl..." The monster's eyes were half-shut now, and the nictating membranes had completely closed to make the eye look totally white. "Likes, unnnhh..." His words trailed off into another moan as she began to stroke with both hands now, the left starting at the tip as the right reached the base.

"Yes, Broot, you like the pretty girl touching your cock...like to not think, just listen to the pretty music and my pretty voice and feel, don't you?" She accompanied the words with extra caresses, finding new places to stroke as she talked. Her hands couldn't encircle the full girth of the Broot's cock, so she made sure to give different areas of his skin attention with each trip down its length.

"Yes, feels good, Broot likes to feel..." Broot was panting now, his tongue lolling a little out of the corner of his mouth. A tiny trickle of drool ran down his chin. Veena had rarely seen any man of any species become so aroused so quickly; but after years of self-denial, the Broot was probably primed for this.

"Yes, so much better to feel than to think," she husked out, feeling his cock throb and twitch under her fingers. "You don't want anything to get in the way of feeling good, not thinking, not standing, nothing at all...standing's too hard now, thinking's too hard now, you're too hard now to think or to stand or to fight..."

"Broot..." She mentally tensed up a little, even as she tried to keep her body language as open and enticing as possible. The Broot always reacted strongest to the language of violence, and he actively sought challenges...but no, she could tell that the mix of the music and the caresses on his member had rendered him too docile to notice the substance of her words. He was no longer thinking, just accepting. "Broot hard," he whispered loudly as he slowly sank to his knees.

"That's right!" she said, accentuating her words with an extra caress. Her hands were already slick and messy with the Broot's precum, allowing them to glide easily down the shaft. Even so, she was careful not to slide the other way, knowing that his rough skin would scrape her hands raw within moments. "Broot so hard, so lost in feeling, so happy..."

"Happy..." Broot's tail was thumping the ground like he was a puppy, creating small tremors that probably registered on local seismographs. She felt his cock twitch again in her hands, and she began to stroke in areas that avoided the tip. She would no more stand directly in front of the Broot's cock right now than she would drink from a fire hose.

"So happy to let me guide you," she cooed, "so happy to listen and feel good and relax and let all that pleasure out now, let it all out for me, all out for the pretty girl, now, Broot, now." She put just a little force into that last word, turning it into a command instead of a suggestion.

That was all it took. His cock pulsed under her stroking hands, shooting out a spray of cum hard enough to knock down a tree fifty feet away. It spattered all over the battle-scarred forest, jetting out over and over as the Broot released years of tension in a single glorious orgasm. His eyes slid all the way shut as he let out an explosive sigh, the spurts slowly turning into dribbles that dripped down onto the forest floor at Veena's feet. Finally, he relaxed completely, his head slumping to his chest as he knelt submissively before her.

"Very, very good," she whispered in his ear. "So relaxed, so happy, so peaceful. Good boy."

He half-nodded. "Thank you," he muttered, his skin already changing from black to a warm brown color as his flesh began to soften and shrink, and Veena wasn't sure whether it was the Broot or Doctor Rick Randall that thanked her for the orgasm as he transformed back to his human self.

It didn't matter to her. Both men needed her right now. She guided Rick down to the ground, finding him a more comfortable position to lie in and cuddling his body against her own as she lulled him down into a true, restful sleep. There would be time enough to explain to him what had happened later.

It took an hour or so; but as expected, eventually someone came to check on the situation. The Rescuer and Captain Tomorrow flew in side by side, with the latter carrying a bandaged Doctor Phobos.

"He is recovering," Veena said before they could speak. "I believe that we will not see any further episodes from him for quite some time, although I intend to remain by his side for now. Just to be sure."

The Rescuer swept his gaze over the forest, taking in the messy puddles of semen, then glared at her. "And how do we know you really have his best interests at heart? How can we be sure you don't plan to control him with that...music of yours, unleash him as a weapon or something?"

Veena shrugged. "Because I am a good person with a kind soul," she said. "Such a thing cannot be seen with your power-vision, or scanned with your smart armor. You will just have to trust me."

There was a long, tense moment of silence. Finally, Doctor Phobos spoke. "I suppose...I suppose we can do that. For now."

The other two nodded in agreement. "We can trust you," Captain Tomorrow said.

Veena glanced over at her instrument, still playing its sweet song. "Good boys," she said with a smile.

THE END