A Holocene Affair

Either way, I needed to be proactive, and that meant learning how to care for him as much as possible as well as communicating with him as well as studiously recording everything for later study. If Dem did... succumb to some modern ailment, at least there would be that for people to peruse and learn from the past.

Decision made, I grabbed some blank notebooks and pens, as well as my robe. I slipped back out the door and glanced down the hallway towards the kitchen area. One tentacle hung over the top of the pan on the kitchen table. It twitched back and forth lazily, a bit like a cat's tail. Well good. He hadn't left, gotten into anything nor inexplicably died. I still had time.

First things first was a shower. While Dem had essentially cleaned me to the pore with his natural depilatory, I wasn't about to let him touch the hair on my head, which was still pretty nappy-looking. Also, despite his squeegee, I still vaguely smelled of whatever natural enzyme he had secreted and rubbed all over me. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't Bath and Bodyworks, either.

I cleaned off and shampooed, but declined to use soap on the rest of myself. Who knew what ingesting even a tiny amount would do to him. Afterwards, I toweled off, donned a spare shirt, a pair of slacks and my lab coat before heading back to the kitchen.

"Dem?" I called softly. Perhaps he was asleep, digesting, er... me. Or at least my by-products. I found the idea to be relatively disturbing, but put it aside for now. "Dem?"

If I thought he had been sleeping, I was sadly mistaken. He popped his 'head' above the rim and greeted me with that toothless doofy grin. "Eleeena," he burbled happily.

Oh. I'd never been greeted with such absolute happiness before. Perhaps that was why people owned cats and dogs as pets. It was a troubling analogy, however. Dem was neither pet nor animal. He was sentient and self-aware, like I was. If not, no matter what rationalizations I had made in the bedroom a few minutes before, I was guilty of a far more serious sin.

"Hello Dem," I said formally. "It's time for us to learn about each other." I spoke each word as precisely as I could to prevent them from running together. It wouldn't matter now, but later, if Dem was able to pick up my language, it would be a helpful habit to get into.

I grabbed a nearby stool and took a seat next to the table, notepad in hand and pen at the ready. This wasn't going to be easy. I was no linguistic expert, but it had to start somewhere. I grabbed my cell phone, turned on the voice recorder, set it down on the table and spoke in clear, concise tones.

"Tuesday, May 30th. 2024." I glanced at the clock above, "It is 18:45 pacific. Interview with subject Dem. 1st recording."

Dem looked at me quizzically. I smiled in what I hoped was my most reassuring manner and began to speak. It didn't, I think, matter in retrospect what I said. It was mostly to give him something tor reply to. I pointed at things and said their names, attempting to get him to do the same.

Four grueling hours later, I'd learned exactly two things. First, learning a language with which there was exactly zero common ground with the current era was the next best thing to impossible , even for an experienced linguist. I realized that at least eighty percent of everything Dem could see probably he probably didn't even have a word for. Movies portrayed people becoming fast friends and picking up each others language like it was catching an STD. After hours of writing down everything Dem said (or at least what I thought he was saying), all I ended up with was about thirty sheets of unintelligible scrawl on my notepad.

The second thing I learned, much to my chagrin, was that Dem was an extraordinary linguist. Not just regular extraordinary, I mean like, maybe two or three people on the planet could have picked up words in a foreign language faster than Dem. Maybe. I wasn't counting on it. By the end of the day, Dem spoke a sort of broken pidgin form of English that was enough to communicate the basics such as a need for food, safety, shelter, warmth and every combination thereof in combination with my name.

Day two, I swallowed my pride and requisitioned a wall mounted TV from the university and purchased a collection of English language videos. Other than attempting to explain that the screen wasn't a magic window, this had the basic effect of immobilizing Dem for the duration. He absorbed the knowledge and tested it out of me nearly continuously. By the end of the third day he was even beginning to understand the weird sentence structure of noun-verb-noun that made English such a pain to other language speakers.

So it was that as I was making ready for bed on the third night, that Dem somberly told me he was hungry again.

My heart skipped a beat, but I had been waiting for this. I'd skipped the shower and even spent some time exercising while Dem had been immersed in the language video. While my habit hadn't done anything at all for my personal aroma, it did mean I was now covered in skin oils as well as a thin stubble of hair growing from all the places hair grows from on a woman. I earnestly told him to wait a moment and then I went and grabbed a towel to lay down on the floor. I peeled out of my clothes, chucking them in a corner and stood naked on the towel. Despite feeling exposed (and a little foolish), my imagination remembered the last time Dem had interacted with my body that way and I felt a chill crawl up my spine. The good kind.

Dem ambled over to my feet. I was still a little flummoxed by his ambulation. Those short tentacles that functioned more or less as his legs, I began to realize, were also part of how his kind expressed themselves. When Dem was feeling silly or expansive, then his gait was a strange rolling totter. When he wasn't paying attention, it was a kind of wiggling crawl. But when he was moving with a purpose, he resembled nothing less than a graceful cat's walk. Now it was a kind of swanky swagger. I stifled a giggle.

He lifted his top arms, reaching for me. "Up Up, Elena," he demanded. "Hold Dem."

I bent down and lifted him up and at the same time he wrapped his long arms around my neck in a hug. "Dem hungry," he added. "Need Elena."

I think Elena might need you, too.

My heart was starting to pound at the illicit directions of my thoughts. Perhaps this time, there wouldn't be the same finish as last time. Yet, I wanted there to be. Perhaps my unexpected climax of two days ago had seriously alarmed Dem, causing him to be more circumspect this time. I hoped not, but I couldn't bring myself to broach the subject.

Meanwhile, Dem had already begun to massage his fluids into my body and arms. I suspected he was paying extra-special attention to my breasts, which caused my heart rate and breathing to go up just a bit more.

"Elena," warbled Dem.

Oh my god, he's fucking noticed he's turning me on. I shut my eyes. How could I not be embarrassed?

"Yes?" I breathed.

"Elena Uesoon," He said, smiling. He booped my nose. "Uesoon!"

My eyes popped back open. "Uesoon? What does that mean-eep!?" He had finished with my top and was beginning to drop down to do my bottom half, sliding down to my mid-thigh. He began to rub my thighs and ass with his magic goo. The combination of my anticipation was dovetailing with his ministrations in the most synergistic fashion. I could feel my temperature rise still further. I didn't have to touch my sex to realize I was dripping wet.

Dem finished with the rest of my body, every last drop of moisture scraped up and consumed by this omnipresent tentacles. He gave a little 'hmmph' of satisfaction and then authoritatively tapped a limb between my knees.

Oh, god, here we go. As I spread my legs apart, my reservations and inhibitions melted away. I was beginning to form the basis of trust with my newfound... friend? I wasn't even sure what you would call it. But whatever it was, my libido had overridden whatever common sense I had left.

Dem once again began to rub moisture into my pubic region, lathering it in his bio-nair. Yet, like last time, he was slowing down. His rubbing became less functional and more sensual. I could feel him purring again, but it was interrupted when he began singing softly to himself. "Uesoon, Eleeeeena. Uesoon ne aaama. Uesoon-soon Eleeeena. Iss Tabin ne aaama. Eleeena Uesoooooooon."

Unlike last time, there was no surprise for me. I quickly grabbed hold of the back of a nearby chair. Dem's pod-leafed tentacles were methodically and thoroughly massaging the outside of my sex with gentle firmness that was both sensual and powerful. My breathing was becoming much more ragged as my climax approached.

Just like last time, Dem timed his movements perfectly. He slipped a tentacle between my lips, sliding it along my slick channel, front to back. The touch on my clitoris as well as the anticipated almost entry sent me careening over the edge. Again my knees buckled and it was only my hand on the chair that kept me upright.

Unlike last time, however, Dem didn't just finish up. His tentacle was continuing its ministrations once more, but much more directly. He continued to slide it back and forth against my clit and down the inside of my slit, sending still more waves of pleasure dancing though me, welcome echoes of the far greater wave that had crested only a moment before.

My eyes were slits as I held myself steady against the onslaught of sensation. Between my breasts, I could barely see Dem as he clung to my thigh, orchestrating my pleasure like a particularly adept conductor. My eyes suddenly widened as he detached two more of his tentacles from around my waist and pointed them unerringly at my sex.

"Elenaaaa?" Dem crooned softly. "Uesoon di nu?" he made another noise and then said in English, "Okay?"

There was no mistaking the angle of those approaching tips. I shuddered, still caught up in what I was feeling already, but not enough to miss the significance. "Yes, Dem. Uh! Yes. Yes."

My free hand went for my breasts and I unashamedly pinched and rolled my nipples between my fingertips. There was no mistaking what was happening now, between either of us. I braced myself as his tentacles reached me. I could feel them, gently, yet firmly questing around the one that was massaging me, before they slid effortlessly into me. They seemed to twine together inside of me, wriggling and thrusting with unerring accuracy towards my G-spot. They writhed within me, the sensation something I'd never felt before. It was purpose and movement, touch and sensation that was not a random thrusting, but something completely different.

I came. This time I did fall to my knees as my pussy clenched rhythmically with powerful contractions. It went on and on, my breath shuddering and my moan low and animal. When at last the wave receded, I was exhausted and satiated in a way I'd never felt before.

Dem, for his part, slid himself free from me, gingerly giving me space.

After a minute of catching my breath, I asked Dem in all seriousness, "What does Uesoon mean?"

Dem, armed with what English he'd been able to garner in two days of intense learning replied, "Mean happy woman shiver."

It was the most precise definition of an orgasm as I'd ever come across. So be it.

*******

The pattern of feeding every two days set the pace of the next two weeks. At first, I was terrified that I was going to become burnt out on Dem's attentions when he did feed. Then I became terrified that he was somehow addicting me to his ability to manipulate my sex organs so deftly and to such effect. I spent the nights frantically masturbating to the memories of the pleasure he'd evoked within me. Finally, I think I made a sort of peace with the whole thing. I'd loved sex a long before I'd encountered Dem anyway. Nothing had really changed except the intensity.

Despite being on what I mentally dubbed the 'yoyo of sex', somehow I still remembered that I was a scientist and I had a responsibility to learn everything I could about Dem, as well as take as good of care of him as possible.

To that end, I continued to funnel English teaching material to Dem, who voraciously absorbed it. His command of the language went from primitive to near-fluent with frightening quickness. I talked to him often and as the days went by, the answers I got to my questions became more nuanced and detailed. It's difficult to express exactly how far apart our differences were, even taking into account the language barrier. At least half the language expressed ideas or described things he'd never experienced from his time in the early Holocene.

For Dem, the world was a much more primitive place and the importance of survival, at least for him, had depended on his relationship with humans. Before his trip to the modern age, that human had been the young lady who was even now being studied by David and Miriam in a high-tech lab down the hall. Afterwards, I realized that his newfound protector was me.

Thinking of David made me realize that I hadn't checked my email in over a week since my return. I supposed he must be a bit put out that I had grabbed my loot and run on the first day. Still, perhaps it was worth the while to check my E-mail and see if either him or perhaps the university had something for me. I grabbed my laptop and flipped it open.

Huh, I mused. Generally speaking, I got very little mail. I wasn't super popular with the university, being one of hundreds attempting to transition from earnest post-grad to doctorate alumni, along with continuous pleas for funding and space which that entailed. While I was a necessary evil, the board wasn't interested in encouraging me until I produced something tangible that they could tout. I didn't share my academic account with anyone other than co-workers, precious few of whom had anything to say to me as of yet. Generally, I saw maybe twenty messages a month, most of which were personal ones from Jenna Kimura, one of my few friends on campus and sometime lover, with a few more peppered encouragement/advice ones from David.

So imagine my surprise to find nearly a hundred new emails. All of them, without exception, from David.

I started at the bottom and worked my way up to most recent, skimming the titles. What an interesting find! Thank you for your help! Can you stop by and take a look at this? I'd welcome your advice and insight. Typical David. He was the sort to share the glory as well as promote his fellow co-workers. I continued up the list. The titles began to change. A chill swept up my spine and not a good one. This is unprecedented. Never seen before. New specie discovered! We've thawed several articles and need your insight! Where are you?

I sucked in my breath. New specie? I glanced over at Dem, who was watching the screen wide-eyed and practicing each word as it was pronounced. Oh shit. I continued to scan titles. Thaw attempt on find #27b, your help appreciated. Does crystallization of tissue always result in necrosis?

My stomach dropped and I glanced at Dem. No it doesn't.

There was nearly a five hour gap between that and the next one. Elena! Incredible discovery! Where are you? Come to the lab immediately! Followed by, New life-form survived thaw! The guys from Biology are going to lose their minds!

The next followed an already familiar pattern. This thing is intelligent! What a find! It speaks! Elena come to the lab, you have got to see this! And was followed by another twenty or so to similar effect. Elena, where are you?

I sadly ran my fingertips down the screen. I'm right here, David. Learning all the same things and letting you and all other scientists down. I didn't know why letting him down hurt so much more, but it did. Maybe it was the respect and trust he had accorded me when no one else had. Perhaps there was no maybe about it.

Dem looked over at me and hopped off his seat. "Elena, you sad?" he said. I was still getting accustomed to his hypersensitivity to my moods and feelings. One did not simply turn away from Dem. He knew, always.

"A little," I answered as honestly as I could. "But, there isn't much I can do about it. I'm a poor scientist."

Dem patted my hand with his tentacle, attempting to comfort me. "Elena, you good human. You do good things. Save Dem, help Dem. Keep Dem safe."

I smiled at the simplicity of his world-view. What did a tentacle creature from the ancient boreal north understand about ethics? Yet, there I was, being comforted by him.

"Dem," I began hesitantly. "I know you don't understand them yet, but there are some rules that I have to live by because of who I am."

"Dem knows. Humans always do that. Princess do that. Hunter-men do that. That why we in mountains. Not Dem's place to ask why. Dem next to you. You no worry." His voice was soft and sincere. Men the world over could have taken lessons from him and panties the world over would evaporate instantly. His tentacle touched my hand and I turned it over, palm up. He grasped me and we held each other.

"I need to talk to David," I said finally.

"Dem go with?" my tentacled friend asked.

I nodded silently. "If you do, I cannot be in control anymore. But... I promise I won't leave you."

Dem nodded in return. "Dem follow Elena. Work so far."

The sheer faith of that statement staggered me. It was impossible to truly understand Dem's isolation. He was well and truly helpless in a modern world. Could I really submit him to the tender mercies of a society that was as schizophrenically paranoid as it was wise? The last of his kind and a refugee of the early Holocene.

My chill returned. Perhaps the last of his kind. Perhaps not. David hadn't said what he'd found, but I didn't have a doubt it my mind that it was another just like Dem. Could it be the correct and opposite sex? Did it mean that it was possible to bring his species back from extinction? Hell, despite his masculine voice, I had no idea his gender. What if, in ignorance, David and Miriam didn't twig to the proper care of their tentacled find. Would it die? If so, I was not only responsible for the sheer audacity of holding a member of an intelligent species out of contact with the human race, but also consigning that species to extinction... again.

"I really need to talk to David," I said again, standing up. Time to get dressed.

I got ready to close the laptop when another message popped up. A voice recorded before I was born said, 'You've got mail!'.

Another message from David. My eyes narrowed. If the other ones were alarming, this one was frightening. Elena, avoid the lab. We are under quarantine. I opened the letter.

Elena, It began. While I don't understand why you've been out of contact for the last week, I do know you need to avoid the lab at all cost for the duration. I'll explain.

If you somehow haven't read your prior emails before reading this one, than you should know that while thawing several of the artifacts from our expedition, we made an unprecedented discovery of a new specie. But that's not the half of it. It managed to survive its freezing state and revived when it was thawed. We've tried to care for it for the last few days, but to little success. It drinks water, but little else and has lost weight and energy. To make matters worse, this creature appears to be intelligent, speaking words which we do not recognize.

Despite these challenges, we have attempted to study it in hopes we can find a way to save its life in time.

Unfortunately, today our luck has run out. The CDC has gotten wind of our find somehow and has arrived with an enforcement team. Their claim is that the creature is highly likely to be either dangerous or contain sicknesses from the distant past. To that end, they have quarantined the lab as well as making preparations take possession of the creature for study once it dies. Miriam and I are also quarantined for the duration, severely limiting both our access to research materials as well as any hope we have of saving the life of our find.