Chasing Cerise Ch. 01

He smiled more widely in response to her laugh and whatever else he sensed from her. "So, what room, surface, and orifice do you want to start with?" The Vev stepped forward, gently offering his mouth to her. "I'll get to them all shortly."

"Well...always start with the oral one. A kiss," she murmured huskily, stepping to meet him and wrap her arms around his shoulders. "And here in the living room is fine."

His mass shifted slightly so that every portion of her skin that was touching him was being gripped in return. It had to be the weirdest feeling ever. At first Cerise tensed in surprise, not expecting it and realizing that his clothes weren't real and it was only her tank top that actually separated them from direct contact.

Soon she relaxed again as her nipples and breasts, throat, and crook of her elbow felt a warm rotating vibration. Chase's oscillation made a low thrumming noise and a portion of a hand shifted up to the base of her skull, massaging her neck and teasing the hair.

Oh....! She groaned slightly, feeling her nipples tighten up and she moved her breasts slowly against the stimulation. The tension in her neck which she hadn't realized was there started melting under the good vibes, and the scalp exploration felt really good....

*Oh, that's better than any massager on the market..*.

Cerise accepted his offer of "tongue," drawing on the opening in an eager kiss then slipping her tongue inside to duel with his. She made it a point to note what he tasted like right now. She tasted chocolate, figuring that had been the most recent thing he'd consumed (which likely meant the box of chocolates he'd given her probably wasn't full). But there was almost something like silicon underneath, and the texture was as she might imagine mouthing on a very firm sea-cucumber...

"And the surface?" he asked, though it took her several seconds to recall that he had asked her three questions. Like the logic-based construct that he was, he had to have the answers.

"What?" she gasped. "Oh. Well...that will depend on where you catch me."

Cerise reached to peel his hands from her back, regretfully moving away from him and stepping back with a mischievous grin. "Do you have enough of my scent to pursue, you think?"

Chase grinned back and a predator's gleam came to those inhuman eyes. "Enough that you won't be able to escape."

Good.

He had barely finished the sentence when she dove for the front door and threw it open to dart out into the carpeted hallway of her apartment complex. The floor went around in a complete square, half-a-block around, creating a reasonable "race track" and Cerise intended to sprint full tilt around that track.

She simply had to start this evening by getting rid of some of the nervousness, to let the extra energy bleed off as a thin layer of clean sweat on clean skin... which she guessed would make her only more yummy to Chase.

She also wanted to see what kind of 'combat matrices' were triggered by her actions. He had told her once that he adjusted those matrices for his "play," since he had no natural instincts of his own. She was horny but she was also curious, and this was her first time. She wanted to understand how he worked.

Glancing back, she saw the Vev shrug out of his jacket, toss off his wig, and take off after her. He picked up speed with his feet and arms pumping far faster than a human would be able. She saw his limbs and torso moved oddly, showing far more flexibility as they adjusted for the optimal propulsion. Portions of his frame shifted and his forearms changed shape, stretching like taffy into wicked-looking hooks. His mouth was no longer human; it was showing rows of serrated teeth in a wide joker's grin.

Her heart squeezed and trembled in her chest as she looked at the shifting nightmare. Holy fucking shit!

Cerise now saw how a hunting Vevaphon would scare the absolute piss out of nearly any human. Her energy surged and the adrenalin poured into her as he triggered a genuine flight response, and she started to pull away from him at first as she ran flat-out.

She hoped she knew what she was doing. Explaining to her roommate later how she got her clothes bloody and shredded from her "friend's" visit might be difficult, and that was assuming she could take a healing drug afterward. She fervently hoped Chase had more control over those programmed matrices than it appeared at the moment.

As she rounded the short corner and hit the long stretch back, another glance over her shoulder showed no pursuit. It was suddenly ominously quiet with the exception of her breath and heartbeat. She stopped, wondering if he was doubling back around the other way? She was trembling from the rush, looking around with wide, dark eyes. What...?

A few moments later and around the corner, she heard the sound of footsteps and armor followed closely by a door being broken down and a familiar voice that she knew very well.

"DOWN! DOWN! CLOAK DIVISION!" Inspector Thom Jagger yelled and there was a muffled gunshot along with the sounds of scuffling which soon died down.

Cerise gasped and took a step back. *What the hell is Thom doing here?!*

Given how intimate she'd been with the man in the very recent past, it would be really awkward seeing him now only to then have Chase appear to drag her back to her apartment.

"Control, secure. We got him. Jagger out," the Inspector said.

"Aren't you going to question me?" a voice pleaded.

"No."

"But...why...why not?"

No response.

"Why not? What...what are you going to...to do?"

*What the fuck? That wasn't like Thom.*

Cerise approached the corner, her bare feet padding quietly on the carpet, wondering why all this sounded so...off. Something was odd about the sounds -- they seemed flat, almost as if they were not in stereo and the bass was turned too far down.

As she looked around the corner, there was no sign of a strike and the air was free of cordite and blood. Nothing had happened here, she'd only heard the sounds....

*It's him...it's Chase...!* she thought immediately. She remembered what both Thom and Lynn had said about Chase being a good vocal mimic. Baiting and stalking, he could echo other sounds just as he could take on other appearances. Her heart was still beating hard. She hadn't taken the bait, hadn't run headlong into the trap looking for the Inspector, but...where was Chase? The hallway was empty.

Someone in another apartment finally got curious enough to open up the door to peek their head out. It was a young boy with dark, curly hair and dark eyes. He saw her and their eyes met, then Cerise heard his mother yell behind him to close and lock the door, "It's not our business what Cloak is doing to some subversive!"

Suddenly, a portion of the wall to her left sheered out like a wave and lunged after her. The boy screamed, high-pitched, and slammed the door to the hallway.

"Shit!" Cerise cried, doing her best to dodge out of the way but was just a sliver too slow.

The breaking glass-whistle of the Vev's laughter radiated the length of the form as a tentacle lashed out for her, making a whipping sound in the air as it wrapped around her wrist. She screamed and never stopped moving, making a supreme effort to get loose again. In that moment she was too terrified to give in yet.

She somehow twisted free (or maybe he let her go) and she burst down the hall, starting to laugh now; quivering, gasping laughter but it nonetheless helped control that huge rush of fear. She had broken into the sweat she had wanted, and she ran toward her apartment to see if she made it there or if Chase would catch her.

Cerise looked back again and saw the Vev falling forward, morphing into a semblance of his natural form -- a stretched, sinewy humanoid with a gaping mouth and hooks for limbs. Fragments of paint from the walls and strips of carpet hopped after him in small tufts as he sprinted after her. Making it far worse was the low, inhuman humming coming from him as he pursued. He shifted back into his more rigid, human form and that effort slowed him down. She saw that somewhere along the way he'd shed his clothes. Or the appearance of them.

No wonder people were known to faint seeing him as he actually was.

Part of her remaining fear was that she didn't truly know if Chase wouldn't decide it might be fun to see her expression if he drew her blood. Vevaphons were programmed with an understanding of torture as part of their interrogation skills. There was just enough uncertainty to heighten her rush, but she had to be careful not to hyperventilate.

*No. Calm down. Thom would have Chase recycled if he hurt me. But I don't think I know one friend who could handle this as foreplay...or see the appeal.

I must be crazy.*

The Vevaphon was far more surreal and nightmarish than the other, more natural aliens on the planet, even if the predators all triggered the same rush of fear/excitement while being chased. At least a natural race looked like a predator, and in being stalked and chased by one there was no mistaking the intensity of the feeling. She'd experienced it before; she liked to be chased (obsessive stalkers aside).

Some aliens even could—and would—use the same mimicry to trick prey into coming closer. But a Vev? It was like adding in a magician full of illusions and funhouse distractions that were harder to separate from the real world. Coming right out of the wall like that? At least the other hunters only had one form!

She'd made it back to her place, and Chase rushed into the apartment after her. He turned off his "hunt mode" so suddenly, like a light switch, that she blinked. He calmly shut the door, locked and dead-bolted it, and then turned to smile at her.

He looked like his "human" himself again, albeit as a bald, nude Keith doll with no genitals. But that single action on his part calmed the sharpest edge of her fear and she smiled back, panting hard, her skin showing a light sheen just below her clavicles.

He stepped forward. "You're sweating, Cerise. Tasty. Now I could find you anywhere."

She laughed breathlessly, "Isn't that the point?"

The smile shifted to a more feral display and he laughed as he rushed after her. She shrieked to release the tension and started darting around her apartment for all she was worth. Chase followed her nearly exactly, a tendril brushing her skin or grasping at an ankle then releasing it instead of doing what he was programmed to do: take her down and hold her completely immobile.

One particular whipping grasp swept her feet, made her stumble. He was so fast in close quarters and it was clear he was largely impossible to escape. He "missed" her several times, happily allowing her to draw him to wherever she desired to be caught.

Her ragged, shaky laughter actually grew with the game, and after leaping over the couch a couple times, skidding through the kitchen and tearing down the hall, she shoved open the door to her bedroom and figured finally with a smile, *Oh dear, I'm trapped...*

She was almost against the far wall and spun to face him, having some trouble giggling as she heaved for breath. "Oh... fuck..."

"How about a 'Please' and a 'Me' with that?" he quipped, not sounding out of breath at all.

He rushed her.

He caught her mid-laugh.

It was like being hit like a soft blanket of gelatin. His flowing body washed across her skin, pulling away from her face so she could get air then hardening and tightening so that kicking and squirming free was impossible.

Cerise's senses went into overdrive at the entirely alien apprehension, and though she was very much grateful she could still breathe, she still inhaled to scream again. Part of him shifted and stretched quickly, vibrant and trembling flesh moving against and into her mouth. It had the texture of a phallus but the suction of a kiss as it pulled at her lips and tongue. She ended up screaming into him; he didn't block off all her air taking her mouth.

The blond woman experienced a chaotically intense moment; the alien, freaky blending of touch essentially asked for a blowjob and a kiss simultaneously. Chase's programming was also perhaps too strong to just let her scream without restraint, and she truly felt trapped. She nearly fell into panic with a desperate need to get loose and get that probing, squirming thing out of her mouth! But no...no. She was here willingly, she had asked him to do this, she wasn't going to chicken out.

She closed her eyes and drew in a long, steady breath through her nose, focusing on the texture and the chocolate taste of the morphing Stormer. She used her tongue and her senses to remind her brain that she wanted to be here. Here and now. She began putting an excellent effort into orally caressing his offered appendage. She could easily focus on that to help dispel the anxiety.

The protoplasm around her body throbbed and writhed in response, tasting and massaging her in apparent eagerness as she tongued that tiny part of him. There was a distinct quiver where she touched, as if he was very excited by the caress. Portions of him, tendrils and bands of muscle-like substances, vibrated in the air in response to her exploration. The sound was between a buzz and a moan.

It was almost like giving a man a blowjob. Sort of. At least she was having a positive effect.

After a few minutes she found herself lifted upward and back with force, landing on the bed with him against her. Without thinking she tried to struggle, to grab at arms or hands or hair or face, everything that wasn't there at the moment. She heard a sharp whipping sound as tentacles zipped through the air, wrapping around her wrists and ankles. Her hands were pulled out and up and her feet down and apart. He pinned her to the bed and there was no human face to see, just a mass of writhing, peachy-tan flesh.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she knew she was definitely caught and she had no choice now but to trust that he wasn't going to hurt her. After a moment she opened her eyes and looked up. Some of the tentacles writhing above her had sharp-looking blades, and they vibrated into thin blurs that caused sections of the wall to fizz into dust. It would be like hugging a buzzsaw if she grabbed him wrong.

*Oh fuck, I really am crazy...*

Cerise's stomach lurched in fear again as she felt a new rush of danger sing through her mind. She knew Chase must be highly engaged in his activity if those 'modified' combat matrices were unconsciously forming lethal blades like that! She was glad that her wrists and ankles were immobile...she couldn't flail and get a digit severed by one of those things. What a show-stopper that would be! In fact, perhaps that was why Chase had done it; to protect her from her own panic response.

She tried like hell to stop straining against him but wasn't successful the first time, starting to writhe again in a few seconds. He wasn't doing anything else, he was just holding her down as she struggled.

They'd never discussed a 'safe word', she realized... something of an oversight for her, but she could see maybe Chase wouldn't have even thought about it. Why would he? He wasn't human but working off sort of an array of pre-planned actions.

She might ask him to stop, tell him no, or at least to reassure her that he would stop if asked. But then it would take some of the edge off. Dumb down the high. And it would also tell him that she might be having doubts with her wanting to stop in the middle to "reset" the rules and then try to resume it in a reduced capacity.

This would seem like a very dangerous game to anyone watching but... did she have doubts? She couldn't move and now she didn't really know what to do, true...but...maybe it was only a matter of lying back and accepting what the Vev had to offer. She had said to him before, when they'd agreed on a future date, that his description of his "erotic programming" sounded to her that it could be like ultra-heightened masturbation.

Chase hadn't been offended when she'd said that.

She wasn't interacting with an organic life form with his own expectations and agenda, trying to mesh his with hers so they both got what they wanted. She was interacting with a Karma Stormer; designed with a completely efficient understanding of how human bodies worked. And she had asked for a 'chase and catch' scenario; that's what she'd wanted, so that's what he was doing. To the letter.

Perhaps, just like self-sex, she wasn't expected to give back or do anything in return. Only enjoy it "selfishly"? His function was to stimulate her, and he would do exactly that. Chase would feel every muscle twitch and every change in her pheromone levels. According to him, he couldn't even "orgasm" unless she did; he needed her release to trigger his biochemical reward for pleasuring her.

If she would only just stop thinking about the intent and just focus on her own climax. It was counter-intuitive, but she realized Chase would enjoy this more if she just looked out for herself and didn't give in to self-doubt, giving him half-assed responses from which to work.

Cerise allowed herself to relax and softly moaned with a bit of anticipation at being spread out like this. She became aware again that her legs were held open and Chase eagerly oozed around her mound in response. She cried out in pleasure and there was a universal quiver across his form in response to her voice. It was a good sign. He didn't seem to have much weight and she realized he was supporting himself around her instead of on top of her.

His face solidified in the gel and he grinned down at her, suddenly an inch away, and it startled her.

"Jeez, fuck, Chase!" she gasped, her face flushed an incredibly deep blush of pink.

"Is that an order?" he purred. She felt his words vibrating through him as he spoke through the oscillation of his mass instead of vocal chords. She didn't feel a focused burst of air come out, either, though any human man this close would have been huffing in her face.

She laughed, still trembling. "Well, sure, why not? Fuck, Chase."

*I think I'm ready...*

"Yes, Ma'am," he growled.

Portions of him moved against her, and the vibrations began between her legs, at the backs of her knees, the crooks of her elbows, and her breasts.

She sucked in a small cry, her body bucking a moment as if an electric charge had gone through her and she uttered, "Oh, god...!"

Then she hummed, undulating against him to create a bit of a rhythm where she could control the intense sensations, channel them better. Her lips pressed to wherever she could reach on Chase, an appreciative kiss communicating that she definitely liked what he was doing.

Out of the oscillation came his voice, buzzing and definitely inhuman. "Do you care about these clothes or am I free to remove them the way I want?"

She reasoned she could always buy more. "Any way you want," she murmured.

"Goody," he said and began to shift.

Sections of Vev-rope circled and snapped, gripping the fabric of her pajama bottoms and tank top from different angles, lancing it off her and she gasped. The ripping sound enhanced things as strips of clothing were pulled away and his flesh pressed to hers, warming up just being in contact with her. As he stripped her, he also massaged the palms of her hands, wrists, and ankles along with the balls of her feet.

"Ohhh," Cerise's eyes rolled upward briefly before she closed them. That particular combination she'd never felt before...no human could possibly manage it all at once. A Vevaphon was an extraordinary multi-tasker.

She was soon naked and he continued to flex and shift, flowing across her and allowing cool air to seep through between them to her warm, sweating skin. There was a gentle throbbing of pressure on her nipples and his face receded back into the mass of protoplasm, accompanied by a gentle caress between her breasts and an increase of suction against her midsection. He circled and massaged around her navel, tasting her and his face reformed near hers to kiss again. A phallus formed near her mouth, offering itself to her.