A Space Oddity Too

Rocky Ballova's turn to observe the code of honour. Eyes lowered, he shook his own hands and bowed, although not quite so low. And that was when I tried to kick his balls through the top of his head with my steel toe-capped combat boot.

Code of honour? Who the fuck needs a code of honour? Most martial arts masters would condemn my move as deeply dishonourable. So what? Dishonour before death, that's my motto (or one of them, anyway). While the man-mountain was helpless (doesn't matter how big you are, a good kick in the cods soon cuts you down to size) I leapt into action. I applied a reverse finger-and-ankle twist, followed by a triple back-flip with ear-nose-and-toe jerk. I completed my attack with a flying rhushi-dhushi and a sweeping mhashi-bhashi (throws far too complicated to explain here but their names, roughly translated, mean 'Man him fly high upsy daisy' and 'Man him bring down plenty speedo clonk'). Rocky Ballova flew through the air and came down plenty speedo, landing on top of his head. The weight of his huge frame was too much for his neck and there was a horrid snapping noise. I've heard it said it's not the fall that hurts you but the sudden stop at the bottom. Buggah The Krutch was going to need a new champion.

"Al! Lunk!" Buggah rapped out, "Seize the woman and bring her here!"

Two thugs grasped my arms and dragged me towards their boss. I didn't resist at this point, wanting to see what was going to happen next.

Buggah leaned forward, glaring at me. "So, strange female! You displayed great valour and bested my champion. I suppose you trust me to honour my word?"

"Nope, I never trust the word of an interstellar master criminal." True enough and why admit to the disgusting slob that I'd been shit-scared of his champion? "I just wondered what you'd do to me when I killed old Rocky there."

"What to do with you indeed?" mused Buggah The Krutch, "A good question. I know, I'll give you to Al and Lunk. I understand that both are exceptionally well endowed by human standards. They can play with you inflicting much orificial pain and damage until they get bored and then they can kill you in the most hideous manner they can think of. Al, Lunk, she's all yours. Do your worst!"

The two exchanged evil grins and reached out with their free hands to grope my boobs. Big mistake. Seconds later both were curled up on the ground, faces scarlet and eyes popping as they nursed their damaged whatsits and whimpered for their mothers. Exceptionally well endowed, eh? Not now they weren't. Having a pee was going to be very uncomfortable—very very uncomfortable—for them for the foreseeable future. (I didn't learn all my unarmed combat in the Phlung Dhung gojo or at spy training school. My dear old Granny had a number of nasty ways of dealing with audacious men and she taught me the lot. Thanks, Granny.) One of the two fallen gangsters had a small axe in his belt which I seized and with one slash severed the flimsy chain binding Princess Layla to her abductor. And then I started to get annoyed. "As for you—" I shouted at Buggah.

I jumped onto the dais and grabbed a tusk in each hand, tugging fiercely. Immense though he was, my intention was to try and drag him to the floor and pound his head up and down on the hard surface a few times. Instead I found myself flying backwards through the air to land with a thump! on the ground, driving the air from my lungs. For a moment I thought Buggah The Krutch had thrown me then realised I was still clutching something. Although dazed and winded, I managed to look at it. It was a top-plate of false teeth with fake tusks attached—my tug had been so violent that I must have ripped it from Buggah's mouth and in the slightly lower gravity of Effluvia sent myself flying. Buggah himself was flapping at his lips, wailing: "My teef! My teef! She'f got my teef!"

Never mind about Buggah. My problems continued to pile up. Just about the whole gang was advancing on me, cautiously but with obvious ill-intent. To my surprise, Princess Layla snatched up the small hand-axe and stood over me to protect me. But there was no way we two could tackle that lot. Final thoughts ran through my head.

Goodbye, Felice! I love you. Goodbye, Sweary! Take good care of my Felice. Goodbye, Princess Layla! Thank you for your unexpected display of courage. Goodbye cruel world...

...and then... and then... I recalled something... Oh, thank you, Kew...

I remembered in Em's office, Kew talking about Buggah The Krutch, something that she mentioned: "He's said to possess the most enormous pair of tusks and these hold his mobsters in thrall. They worship the tusks more than the man... er, the monster... See them as his manhood...er, monsterhood... Strange people, strange practices..."

Never in a galaxy's lifetime did I think I'd have reason to be grateful to Kew (and she'd crap her incontinence pads if she knew that she was my salvation) but fortune smiles when least expected.

His gang worship his tusks more than he himself. Perhaps... just perhaps...

The mob had been advancing cautiously but they were almost on us. "Wait! Stop!" I yelled, "Look at this!" I waved the false tusks and teeth at them.

Despite me being near breathless, there was just enough authority in my voice to bring them to a halt. "Wossat?" asked one gangster in the forefront, pointing a dirt-encrusted finger at my trophy.

"False teeth and tusks!" I shouted, "Buggah wears false teeth and tusks. He's been fooling you all this time. He's been taking you for a bunch of mugs!" I managed to throw out a mocking laugh. "Some interstellar master criminal, making you lot worship his false snappers! Can't even take care of his own teeth!"

A couple in the mob looked back to where Buggah The Krutch was trying ineffectively to cover his sunken-lipped mouth. "She's right, lads! 'E ain't got no teeth!"

Another of the foremost tore the dentures from my hand and shook them aloft. "Ain't nobody else 'ere got tusks like this! An' 'e fined me a year's loot for saying an elephant's got bigger tusks!"

"I forgot to salute his tusks one day," shouted another, " 'n' he made me clean all the smelly urinals—while people were pissing in them!"

"The lousy toothless bastard gave me a slap on the wrist once for pinching a bottle of booze!" yelled a third.

"Only a slap on the wrist? That's not very serious!" came a scornful comment.

"Oh yes it was—he was holding a laser-cutlass at the time! Why'd yer think they call me Handy Andy?"

A roar went up. "Then let's get him!"

"No, no!" shouted Buggah from behind one huge hand (or flipper), "She'f lying! It'f all a big falfehood!"

Too late. Buggah's faithful men turned on him en masse. It took the whole crowd to lift him from the dais but they managed. Dozens of hands holding him above head level, they made a dash through the huge doors and in the general direction of the shore. Frantic cries echoed back. "No, no, it'f me ladf! Good ol' Buggah! Your lovable boff! Oh, me teef! Gimme a chanfe! I'll gwow fome more tufkf!"

They passed a huge signboard displaying an arrow pointing towards the sea. Neatly printed words read: TO THE FLESH-RENDING SEA-MONSTERS' LAIR! PROCEED AT YOUR VICTIM'S PERIL! I was pleased to see that the notice was grammatically correct. Must have been written by the secretary who was admonished for a simple error. I watched from a window until Buggah's pleas grew fainter and they were almost out of sight.

Well, that was that. Just one or two things to mop up. I turned back into the hall and indicated to Princess Layla to remain where she was. Rocky Ballova lay where I'd bounced him on his head. They'd have to move and bury him sometime before he got a bit niffy. There was a lot of him to get niffy and it would take a few of them to shift him. Not my problem—perhaps the flesh-rending sea-monsters could take care of it. Al and Lunk hadn't moved either. They just lay there cradling their throbbing nether bits and making unhappy little noises. Well, don't expect sympathy from this girl. Then there was one other, a burly character with an eye-patch, armed with what looked like a Desert Beagle pistol, who stood in front of a stout-looking doorway. I approached, giving him a menacing smile. He simpered ingratiatingly, very carefully laying the laserblaster on the floor to edge it away with his foot.

"Are you going to give me any trouble?"

Eye-patch didn't need to think. He shook his head. "Give trouble to 'er what killed Rocky Ballova and disabled Al and Lunk with 'er bare 'ands? No, miss, no trouble."

"So what's behind that door you're guarding?" I asked.

"That's the boss's booze store. 'E said that if anyone got into it without 'is permission, 'e'd turn me into an enoch... at least I think that's the word..."

"Doesn't seem to be a boss anymore, so let's see what's in there," I said. The man unlocked the door, picked up a nearby crate and brought it for my inspection. It was El Collapso cloud-rum.

"Any more of this?"

"More than I can count, miss. Thousands of crates, looks like."

"Good, here's what you do. Drag a load of crates out. When the lads come back, hopefully having disposed of your boss, give them three or four bottles of cloud-rum each as a reward. When you've served everyone, help yourself to your share. Enjoy it."

"Thanks, miss. Very generous."

I could afford to be generous. It wasn't mine in the first place. I took several bottles to where Al and Lunk lay moaning. "Here, get that down you—it'll soon help you forget the pain in your trousers." [For now, anyway. Just wait until you wake up and need the lavatory.]

"Thank you miss," one mumbled, wincing through his anguish.

"And you won't grope any more boobs without written permission, will you?"

"No miss," muttered the other, grimacing through his agony, "even though I can't write."

I stepped over to where Layla was waiting. "It's getting dark. Let's find some place to pass the night."

The princess looked doubtful. "They'll just get drunk and come looking for us to have some fun with. Only Buggah The Krutch kept them away from me."

"Don't worry," I assured her, "That stuff's lethal, a few swigs and they won't remember which end is up let alone remember us. Believe me, what they drink will knock them out for days. As for the hangovers when they do wake up... half of them will throw themselves to the flesh-rending sea-monsters just to stop the headaches."

On Her Highness's Secret Servicing

We found some sort of bedding store-room with a heavy door and sturdy bolts on the inside. The solitary window was small and filthy and had a scrap of threadbare sacking for a curtain. There were a couple of old-fashioned lanterns on the floor and when I lit them they gave off a very dim light. I didn't think there was much chance of our being discovered but I'd brought Eye-patch's laserblaster along just in case. I turned to look at Princess Layla. Slightly shorter than me, she had a beautifully trim figure with small pointed breasts capped with 'lick-me-quick' nipples. And she was wearing...

I pointed to what I'd thought was a loin-cloth. "Is that a genuine chastity-belt?"

She lowered her eyes modestly. "Yes. My guardians insist on it any time that I travel away from Castle Landstroller. They seem to think that everyone in the galaxy is yearning to seduce me, including the ant-people, the squid-folk and all the other alien races."

"Tell me, I've often wondered... with a chastity belt... how do you...er..."

Coming close, she whispered in my ear.

"Oh," I said, "Well, that explains that. Now we'd better settle down for the night. It looks as if we'll have to share. There are plenty of blankets here, enough to pile up for a comfortable mattress and more to cover us so we'll be warm."

"I know a nicer way to keep warm," Princess Layla smiled and whispered again.

"Oh, that—why, Princess Layla, what a very pleasant idea." I pointed to her chastity-belt. "But won't we be hampered by this?"

"That's not a problem. The designer was an old school friend and she incorporated a hidden catch in the belt's decoration. Of course, my guardians don't know about it." She fumbled with part of the embossed design, there was a soft click and the chastity-belt slipped to the floor revealing a sweet and tight little pussy. "I'm supposed to be untouched but I get very strong urges at times so a hand-maiden sees to my needs. You understand that this must be our secret," she added, "My guardians must never find out about it. They'd be very annoyed"

You bet it must be our secret, I thought, 'very annoyed' doesn't cover what Felice would feel about it.

"So what are we waiting for, Jaimie Pond?"

"Would this be a royal command, Your Highness?"

"It would."

So who can refuse a royal command?

I moved forward to cup her face in my hands and to plant a soft, lingering kiss on her mouth. Looking slightly shocked, Layla pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you of course. Why, don't you like it?"

"It was... unexpected..." she said.

Was it her or me who was bewildered? "You're surely used to it. You said one of your hand-maidens sees to your needs."

"Yes, she licks me and fingers me until I'm satisfied. Sometimes I only need to come once but I can climax three or four times if I'm really in the mood. There's no kissing though. She doesn't even need to undress."

"And what about the maid? Doesn't she get the urge and deserve to come?"

"Now and again, I suppose. When she does I think a kitchen girl gives her a good going over."

This royal lady obviously had a lot to learn. "Listen, Princess, I'm neither hand-maiden nor kitchen skivvy. We're on equal terms here—kissing is part of the game and if you want to make love with me, then you accept doing it properly. Otherwise we can just go to sleep. [By the Great Black Hole, I hoped not, this little lady was very toothsome!]"

"I'm sorry, Jaimie Pond." She lowered her head as if ashamed. "I'm so used to things being done according to my whims... guess I'm in a different world now. Can we start again, please?"

In answer I pulled her close and kissed her several more times, tracing the outline of her lips with my tongue's tip. She seemed to relax in my arms and murmured: "Mmm, that is rather nice. Jaimie, may I look at your pussy, please? I've never seen one close up."

I lay back on the blanket-mattress and opened my legs for her. Layla touched me gently and eased my lips apart. "Mmm, yes. That's so lovely. Would you like to see mine?" Without waiting for an answer she settled down and parted her legs. "Do you like it?"

I've often been told that I've got a perfect pussy but I reckon Layla's came pretty close to that description. The labia were small and firm and when I opened them I saw that her inner lips were delicate with shell-like frilled edges. She was already glistening with moisture and I had to taste her. I swept quickly with my tongue—sharp and sweet, like some exotic fruit, her own version of royal jelly which is supposed to be good for your health. My health was going to be done a lot of good tonight. "I love it," I told her.

I bent my head to each of her nipples in turn, sucking on them until they were fully erect and rock hard. "Oh my," Layla whimpered, "I can feel that right down in my pussy. My hand-maiden never did that for me."

"Did you ever ask her to?" I said, reluctantly taking my mouth from the boob I was suckling on. She shook her head. "Well, now you know," I added, "Ask her, don't order her, and undress her so you can do the same for her. I think you'll find that it's far more enjoyable when you're giving pleasure as well as receiving it." I retrieved the nipple and bit gently on it before turning my attention to its companion.

Relinquishing boobs and nipples, I licked from between her breasts to her throat and then to her lips where I resumed kissing her. Layla met my tongue with hers and I slipped a hand between her legs, massaging her pussy before running a middle finger along her cleft and slowly easing it into her vagina. I pushed the heel of my hand against her clit, making circling motions which caused her to moan. Her eyes widened and she thrust her hips hard against my hand before reaching in between my legs to fondle me.

As she fingered me, Layla started to kiss around my breasts and lick at my nipples until I was groaning aloud with pleasure. The princess was a fast learner and I expected that from now on her hand-maiden was going to reap the rewards.

We were both oozing thick nectar now and our pussies were making liquid noises. I looked at Layla's face and she seemed to be blushing. "I'm sorry about that, Jaimie, I can't help it."

"Don't apologise," I told her, "that's one of the loveliest sounds you're ever likely to hear. Just enjoy it." I swirled my finger around inside her so that it was even more squishy.

I kissed and licked my way down Layla's body to her privates and sniffed her warm pussy with appreciation. It was perfumed with the finest female musk and I shivered with delight. "What are you doing, Jaimie?" she said. I told her.

"Is that really a nice thing to do?"

"It's wonderful," I told her, "Here, if I turn around like this you can smell my pussy and I can practically guarantee you'll like it." I shuffled myself around so that we were in a side-by-side sixty-nine position. I felt Layla's nose pressed against me and then felt a tentative lick which by chance or otherwise touched my clit. It was so unexpected that I almost leapt off the blanket pile. "Was that okay?" came a little voice.

"It was more than okay," I said, "you can do that just as often as you like. And I'll do the same for you." Still using my finger, I added my tongue to the action. Layla's clit was peeping from its hood and I mumbled at it with my lips. Layla was a fast learner, holding me open as she licked at me avidly. As she grew more accustomed to giving cunnilingus as opposed to simply receiving it, she became so enthusiastic that I found myself rapidly reaching boiling point.

Struggling to control myself long enough for Layla to come with me, I increased my tonguing of her clit, almost losing myself in the delightful folds of her pussy. "Jaimie," she said in a choked little voice, "I think I'm gonna (gasp) c-o-m-e..."

She exploded and I let myself go at the same time. We lay there gasping, allowing ourselves to come down slowly and then Layla said: "That was lovely, Jaimie, I've never tasted anything as nice as your pussy before. Can we do it again?"

So we did it again... and again... and...

Later we lay there cuddling, murmuring about nothing in particular, when Layla said: "I wish that I could be a secret agent like you, Jaimie."

"Why? It's dangerous work at times." I was thinking of past adventures such as Ms Goldtoe's laser beam or being dangled over a pool of piranhas or having a venomous Brazilian wandering spider popped into my bed.

"It's just so boring being a princess," she said, "Nothing to do much of the time and when anything happens, it usually means being nice to pompous old diplomats with slimy hands who try to touch me up under the table at state banquets. I'd like to be brave like you."

"I'm not always brave, I get scared stiff sometimes," I confessed, [that bloody spider—I could almost shit myself just thinking about it!] "And you were very brave when you jumped in to protect me from the mob. As for those pompous old diplomats, I'll show you a couple of ways to discourage slimy wandering hands—they'll not do much groping with their fingers in traction. But from now on Layla, be kind to your hand-maiden. Lick her, finger her, give her as much enjoyable sex as she gives you."