Caputpedes

Then I heard another voice. Not from the surroundings, but from inside my head.

"It's OK, hun. You are doing great. Amazing acting, you are really selling it tonight."

As the familiar voice spoke, I felt the horse dick in my mouth soften and narrow. I knew the part that was inside me was now a tentacle, much more to my liking. Outside remained equine, but a transition occurred as the horse moved relentlessly forward. Cock became tentacle, and I could deal with a tentacle in my esophagus, no problem. Though Emily's oral probing brought memories of Duxie flooding into my mind, I tried my best to concentrate on the show. To the onlookers, I was somehow being deep throated by a stallion. Instead, Emily was reminding me how much I loved my tube to be filled, cephalopod style.

The finale arrived, and Emily stepped back, slithering out of my throat, tentacle rapidly transforming back to cock as it passed my lips. The head popped out, and immediately began to fountain cum over my face and body. I bathed in the warm liquid. When the final jet had splashed onto me, I stood, put an arm on my partner's broad back, and bowed, smiling to the crowd. Applause greeted us and Emily whinnied and stamped appreciatively.

Drenched in cum, I spoke in a loud voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Caputpedes, thank you. Our next inter-species show is in an hour, and will feature restrained anal. Gratuities are welcome. Also, remember that you can book a private appointment with either me or Emily, please just complete the form on your way out. Why not treat yourself and book us both for a show. Thank you once more and we hope to see you again soon."

I grabbed Emily's mane, swung myself athletically onto her back, and she trotted out of the arena, me waving to the crowd as we left.

Emily's plan had an elegant simplicity to it. She always said I was the smart one, but it had a touch of genius, or maybe just desperation. Duxie had given us the key information that it was not just self-imposed exiles like her, or "sex criminals" like David, that had an inter-species kink. It was widely prevalent in Caputpederean society. So much so that there was an extensive and powerful underground group devoted to it. This included many of the great and good of the planet, and enjoyed, shall we say, mutually beneficial relations with many arms of law enforcement. The BEA staff were generally thought to be beyond reproach, else our task would have been simple, but border control was a piece of cake. Emily mentioned a name that Duxie had entrusted to her and motioned towards me, her human paramour. I smiled sweetly at the guards as they admitted us. They smiled back, rather too broadly for my comfort.

Our contact was a Madame called Grace. She was from Earth, like us. She was only too happy to add two new girls to her roster, both as performers and courtesans. There apparently was always an appetite for new human blood, and an inter-species act generally drew crowds. I was quite popular with punters, as was Emily, in either her human or Caputpederean forms; some punters liked to switch. Also, Emily had now entered her second trimester, and was beginning to show. A petite, pregnant blonde was generally going to attract excited customers.

Grace had been a performer and courtesan herself, in her younger years. Her age was a closely guarded secret, but I would have placed her somewhere between fifty-five and sixty-five; her thick layers of makeup made a more precise guess hazardous. She ran the club, and made bookings for the girls, and a handful of boys, on her list. There were three similar establishments in the capital, and a few more spread over the other major cities. The whole operation was funded, protected, and controlled by The Cartel. Grace seldom spoke about The Cartel, and then in hushed, hurried tones. Emily and I were more than happy for her to deal with them.

The money we made was pretty substantial, but this was not Emily's goal. She was interested in connections, in influence, in what knowing the right people could do for her. She was laser focused on her objective and let nothing, no extreme act, no depravity, stand in her way. To be honest, I discovered I also had a pretty depraved streak. I found I wasn't so much steeling myself to do these things to help my friend, I was enjoying myself.

But, as I said, our path was a slow one to traverse. A gradual accumulation of a network of friends made, people who owed us favors, others who would do pretty much anything in exchange for a few hours with a young human. When I asked Emily how she planned to use this leverage, she was never forthcoming. I wondered whether she knew herself, or was she instead waiting for just the right opportunity.

When Emily had explained her initial thoughts to me, I sensed that she had expected a flat out "no" in response. Instead I had embraced her ideas. Being a courtesan was a perfectly respectable occupation of course. Humanoid society had collectively reached a settlement with its hang-ups about sex long before I had been born. But being an adult entertainer, while tolerated and entirely legal, at least in most locales, was still not exactly mainstream, particularly an inter-species adult entertainer. Here, on Caputpedes, things were more draconian and both parties could end up having a very difficult discussion with the BEA. To an extent, the influence of the group we had joined protected us, but we still had to be careful.

Na-ri from just a few weeks ago would have been shocked and offended at the suggestion of becoming a sex worker. But I was no longer that Na-ri. Making love to Emily had set me on a path. My all-consuming experience with both her and Duxie had been transformational. I had found out things about myself, things long suppressed. Desires, needs even. The idea of lots of Caputpederean sex was appealing, not repulsive. My only current commitment was to Em herself. Sure, I would very much like for Duxie to be part of my life, but that was in the future, and far from certain to ever happen. Given the situation, why not have fun and try to help your friend, and her octopus lover, out at the same time?

But I did have one observation.

"So, Emily, if I understand right, my every thought would be transparent to any of your people, right? Isn't that a fatal flaw in your plan? I can't wear the shower cap all the time."

Emily smiled.

"That was David's idea. I've been giving it some thought and I think we can do better."

Emily explained that she believed she could create the analog of David's shower cap, but within my skull, just outside my cerebrum. It sounded rather drastic, but I had already seen clear evidence of her abilities.

"And, Na-ri, I can make it customizable, under your control. You could keep anything you tag as secret confidential. But you could selectively open up to others. That's probably what clients would expect during sex, and would also make things more pleasurable for you. Then you could turn it off completely for most occasions. What do you think?"

It was my day for embracing new ways of living. I saw the logic in the context of our plan, but I also craved privacy sometimes, even from Emily. I could see she was reading my thoughts right now.

"Yes, it would even work with me. I wouldn't leave a back door or anything underhand like that. That's a signature David move. I wouldn't do that to you. Promise."

"And you're confident it will work, with no side effects?"

After all she was proposing neurosurgery of sorts. It was not an unreasonable question.

"Yes, angel. There will be no problems. And, even if there are any, I can fix you with my brain."

Emily had become increasingly confident in her abilities. From what I had seen, it was more than warranted. Still I hoped she was right. I decided to trust my friend.

"OK, let's do it."

Emily didn't normally bother with theatrical gestures, she either just made stuff happen, or at most closed her eyes for a while. Now she extended an arm and laid her hand on my head. Again picking up on my thoughts, she smiled.

"Don't worry. It doesn't mean anything; I'm just trying to be reassuring. This is easy. Look I'm already done."

Only seconds had passed and I felt nothing. I looked doubtful.

"Just try it. The default is all access is off. And I can't tell what you are thinking. Now you only have my word for that I know. But now selectively let me know about something. All you have to do is will it to be. It's pretty much a cut-down version of what the machine did to me, but without all that flashing lights drama."

I did pause for a moment to marvel at how casually she referred to replacing the machine's function. Then I framed a thought and imagined opening it up to my friend. She gave me a broad grin.

"Of course I'd love to go down on you, hun. Why not allow me to access your sexual needs and we can check if that works too."

We undressed, and spent a pleasant hour exploring each other's bodies.

Despite Emily's seemingly limitless shape-shifting abilities, outside of work, and ignoring occasional Futanari playfulness, we most frequently made love simply as two human girls. Maybe it was partly nostalgia on her part. For me, I didn't really need Emily to be any sexier than she already was. It wasn't just the clients who liked petite blondes.

Emily and me? Well it was complicated. She was clearly deeply in love with David. Despite what Duxie had done to her, I often found her lost in thought and sadness. But that very sadness seemed to make her value closeness, emotional and physical.

In my own, more minor, way I shared some similar feelings. My time with Duxie had been brief, but she had left an indelible mark on my psyche. She was often on my mind. If I was honest with myself, I craved more coleoid sex, but I didn't want to be so directly reminded of my time with her. As a result tentacles were restricted to the professional arena. Even work with clients could sometimes be problematic for me. Once, when the strength of my memories ambushed me, I had had to leave Emily to entertain a male giant squid one on one. I did wonder when and if I might see my own squid friend again.

So, I suppose Emily and I both had feelings of loss and also emotional needs. We found solace in each other. The simple thing to say was that we were lovers, not just on stage, not just for clients, but all of the time. We shared a bed, though Emily seldom slept now. To me it felt like best friends with gold-plated benefits. I loved Em, but maybe as the older sister I had always wanted. She was also a kind, considerate, and imaginative lover. I hoped I was the same. We talked about us and it seemed that she thought about things in a similar way. As to the future, and David being back on the scene? Well that was, of course, our shared objective, but neither of us really had any idea what it would mean. I never mentioned my feelings for Duxie to Emily, but she probably drew her own conclusions. For now we needed each other. For now we gave ourselves to each other. That was enough.

It had been a long evening, but at least the anal horse show had been as well-received as the oral one. It had been fun, but my asshole was now a little tender. Emily had the unfortunate habit of sometimes doing to me what she both liked and could better cope with herself. That sometimes spelt trouble for my sphincter. Not that I was complaining, I had after all cum twice. But maybe an anal hiatus for a day or so would be good. I wasn't even sure that I had fully closed yet.

We walked back to our apartment together, proud of a job well done. As we waited to ascend to the top floor, I felt Emily's hand in mine. Her head was slightly bowed, and her eyes fixed ahead and down, but I could still make out her crooked smile in the brushed steel of the elevator doors. As they opened, she turned her head at an angle, and looked at me. Although we had both orgasmed not so long ago, sometimes our stage show simply acted as foreplay. It felt rather like that now.

We entered the elevator, and were kissing before the doors hissed closed. I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, covered by a black leather jacket. Emily had on a baggy, dark blue hoody and gray leggings; she claimed the elastic waist was more comfortable for her expanding midriff. Our apartment occupied the entire top floor -- business had been good -- and the elevator opened directly into the center of it. By the time we reached our level, my jacket and T-shirt, and Emily's hoody were on the floor. I picked them up to save her the effort of bending. Emily had taken to wearing support more frequently, given her increased cup size, and she was so cute in her comfortable-looking yoga bra, her bump now quite obvious. I guess pregnancy fetish is mostly a guy thing, but I found my friend's altered body to be deeply sensuous. It wasn't so much her shape as her glow, the sense of vitality that shone from her. I recalled, with a start, that she had been fucking my ass with a horse's dick not that long ago. Shapeshifting was such a weird concept, and ours such a strange relationship.

Throwing our discarded clothes onto a couch, and removing our shoes, we kissed again; taking turns to give and receive tongues. We could get lost like this, just kissing as minutes rolled by. Tonight, Emily seemed in more of a hurry for some reason, and started to kneel down before me. Seeing her intent, I offered her a supportive hand.

"I'm pregnant, Na-ri, not an invalid."

With some relief, I saw that she was smiling rather than insulted.

A grin still on her face, Emily settled back on her haunches, and unbuttoned my jeans. I wriggled a little, helping her ease them over my hips and down my legs. I unclipped my bra and tossed it. My friend leant forward and pulled down my panties. I stepped out of them and stood with my legs parted a little, I knew what was coming next. Emily kissed my mound.

"Hun, your pubes might look very pretty, but they tickle my nose."

"If you want to get rid of them temporarily, then feel free. I know you like looking prepubescent, but I'm a grown woman and I'd like them back again later, OK?"

I was teasing of course, especially as Emily was five years older than me, not that she looked it. I got my ass slapped for my attempted joke. Maybe that had been my objective all along. Looking down, my wispy, black pubes vanished leaving me as smooth and hairless as my friend. My friend who then proceeded to place soft kisses on my mons veneris, then up and down my labia majora. Perhaps she lost patience, as she now dipped her tongue into my opening, eliciting a sigh from me. I placed my hands gently on her head, and held her close to me as she pushed in and out of my pussy, her tongue held rigid.

Emily refocused her attention further up, and exposed my clit with her fingertips, before beginning to lick. I was very sensitive there, and her licking and sucking felt so intense. I closed my eyes, and simply let myself luxuriate in the unadulterated pleasure she was giving me. Still pushing Emily's head towards my vulva, I took a nipple between my thumb and the side of my forefinger and squeezed. It was good, the pain caused by my pinching fingers merged with the fire Emily was stoking between my legs. It was oh such a good combination. But, today, for some reason, I desired something different. Taking Emily's arm, I pulled her up onto her knees and steered her towards my breasts. She kissed them softly, making little circles round first one areola and then the second. I felt my nipples harden as my friend sent little shivers through me. But again, I wanted more.

"Bite me, Em. Bite me hard."

Looking up at me with her big eyes wide open, Emily bared her teeth, parted them and bit down on my left nipple. I gasped at the hot needles piercing my nervous system. Emily began to massage my clit soothingly compensating for pain with pleasure; balancing the two. I realized that I had tears in my eyes, but knew I still wanted more.

"Harder, I want it harder, please."

There was perhaps a flicker of concern on her face, but Emily tensed her jaw muscles further. I felt myself buckling, bending forward, as I embraced the increased burning. Abused nerve endings nevertheless still thrilled, still conveyed messages of heat and intensity to my clit, which Emily now rubbed harder, magnifying the sensations I was feeling.

"More, Emily. Make me bleed."

Emily released me and stood up. Her open, freckled face staring up at me; worry etched into her expression. I could see the white imprint of her teeth, like Morse Code on my reddened nipple.

"No, hun. Not blood. Not with me. And I don't think you really want that. Talk to me, Na-ri. What is the matter?"

She led me to a couch, and got me to sit down. Pulling her leggings and bra off and peeling off her panties, she sat next to me, skin against skin.

"It's OK, hun. It's OK. I'm here."

I buried my head in her shoulder and sobbed. Maybe the show had been too much for me. Maybe I was missing Duxie. I wasn't clear what was going on. Emily stroked my hair and kissed my head.

"I don't know what the matter is, Em. I just feel so down and so overwhelmed. I've been feeling like this, on and off, for a few days to be honest."

"It's OK, do you want me to try to see what is up with you, you know, telepathically?"

"No, Em. Not that. I'm OK. Just a bit blue perhaps. It's nice you holding me. Would you kiss me again? I'm sorry, I don't really want you to hurt me. Just kiss me."

Emily kissed my cheeks, collecting my tear drops, then brushed her lips across my closed eyes. Finally, cupping my face, she pushed her lips against mine. Cautiously at first, but soon with increasing passion. I touched her lips with my tongue, and then slipped it between them into to the soft, welcoming, familiar wetness of her mouth. As I kissed her, I took Emily's hand and put it between my legs again. Still holding it, I rubbed her fingers up and down my inner labia, then contrived to push one inside me.

Emily moved down onto the floor, and crouched between my legs. With an improved angle, she slipped one, and then two, fingers into my pussy and stared to finger me. I closed my eyes, and let the throbbing caused by her digits spread over me. But, after just a few strokes, Emily suddenly paused.

"Well, angel, maybe I have a hypothesis about the tears."

I looked at her confused. Then she withdrew her fingers and held them up for me to see. They were streaked with blood. Shit! I was early.

"Oh, Emily. I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting... I didn't know..."

"Hush, angel. It's just blood. Nothing awful. I don't mind if you don't mind. But are you sore?"

"Maybe a little, perhaps no fingers. But could you bear to lick my clit a little. Don't if it is too gross. I just might like that. Do you mind?"

Emily, smiled. Then keeping eye contact with me, she licked her fingers clean, and then sucked on both.

"Don't worry, I don't have a menstruation kink, but just to show you that a little blood is no problem. Of course it's fine for me to lick your clit. You aren't bleeding heavily and I think we'll be OK for a bit. So long as you are comfortable."

I nodded to say I was. Of course now I was aware of an ache in my womb, a tenderness in my breasts. Maybe the tenderness had put the biting idea into my head in the first place. But I was mostly just embarrassed. However, such feelings began to evaporate when Emily started to pay renewed attention to my clitoris. I lay back, raised my legs, placing my heels on the couch, and spread my thighs wider. Emily licked and sucked my clit, flicking over it with a firm tongue, electrifying me. Soothing what I now recognized was my aching body, erasing my sadness with slow, firm, upward strokes on her tongue.