Express Delivery

And then she dropped the hammer, after my thumb print had just vanished off the display. "One tiny thing not mentioned in the contract, Salvador. To make sure you won't bail on me or even try to bail on me, I will have to install a bit of collateral."

My throat had become dryer than the fucking desert. "What? Where?"

She walked around me. We were still gloriously naked after that morning's round of horizontal tango. A moment later, there was the tiniest pinprick between my shoulder blades. Some icy-cold liquid trickled into my system.

"What you just received was a Nano-Shot. Over the next few weeks, it will harden into a tiny little clump of inert explosives. Should I feel like you betrayed my trust, I will activate it and it will obliterate anything a hand's width around the injection point. Which means you'll end up with a drive-through in your rib cage."

A week later, I did my first courier run aboard the Consuela, transporting Neira and most of her possessions to Earth. She had decided a change of location would do her business some good.

That was three years ago and from the look of things, my mountain of debt eroded slower than Haleys Comet, despite me literally dropping anything whenever she called. I had done some hairy smuggling runs in her name. I warmed her bed whenever she so desired. On top of all these "favors," I paid nearly two million credits every two months but it was never enough. It was obvious she was delighted to have her very own slave on a very short leash. And going by her creative use of maths on my payment plan, my leash wasn't getting any longer.

"Here's an idea I'd like to run by you, just for shits and giggles," I said, favoring her with my best smile.

"I'm listening. You got a new job offer?"

"No. How about I return Consuela to you? Given all the money I made for you, the rest should-"

Neira shook her head. "You've been riding the old girl for the past three years and pretty hard at that. With all the wear and tear and the necessary upgrades to make her competitive again, she'd be worth... let's be generous here, maybe six million. And you are worth shit to me earthbound."

Neira opened her desk drawer and pulled a small item from it. It looked like a fat, old-style ball pen, with two prominent buttons along its length. "If that's your best idea, I think we should terminate our agreement."

"And what would me being dead get you? Besides a whole lot of paperwork?"

"A bit of satisfaction. I have yet to see one of these puppies go off. I'd happily take the cleaner bill to see that." Her smile was back. Too bad it didn't reach her eyes.

I raised my hands. "Fine. How are we going forward? Can I shave a few hundred bucks off my debt by pleasuring you under your desk?"

Neira's eyes sparked with mirth. "An appealing idea, but I have an appointment in a few. Some "Fading Stars" actress is looking for a one-of-a-kind ride and I have tempted her with that golden Porsche in the showroom. Another time." She rose from behind her desk, instantly dwarfing me. She leaned against the edge and measured me with a languid look. "Since it took you two weeks longer than usual to cough up the going rate, I'll have to put my foot down. You have six weeks to get the next two mil. Not a day longer."

"And should I fail? Manufacturing delays happen, you know that. Same with malfunctioning TransNet gates."

"I know the hazards of space travel and trade. Why do you think I have diversified into ground vehicles? I'll probably let you live if you are late again. But I might invite a friend or two for our next night together. I've always wanted to conduct some rather... extreme xenobiological studies. Like 'how flexible is a human ass hole.' Should be fun."

I had no comeback for that. I simply stared at her in terror. The VRNet was full of tales describing Black Scorpion cruelty in all their stomach-churning detail but Neira had never even raised a hand against me. Or sent one of her henchmen to do the bone-breaking. She had threatened violence on different occasions but never went through with it. When I had asked her about it after an especially fulfilling night of ceaseless fucking, when she was least likely to be angered, she simply smiled, caressed my cock back to full hardness and said: "You won't make me any money inside a healing tank." Simple as that.

Neira tapped her comms and swiped a couple hundred credits my way. "Here, have a good night out. Fuck a Felinoid or two for me."

"Why the sudden generosity?"

"Because you squirmed so much just now. Also, what's the human proverb? Carrot and Stick? You've just brought me two million in disposable funds and that warrants a bit of carrot, don't you think? Now get outta here. My client has arrived."

* * * *

When there's a spaceport, there's always a range of bars, strip clubs, brothels, gambling halls, food stalls and other dives for weary spacefarers to leave their worries and their money behind. 'Misty's' was the one I always returned to because the drinks were decent, the music well below pain threshold levels and there is nothing better to get your mind off a certain burgundy-skinned, flame-haired slave driver than a whole pub/whorehouse run by cheerful, fluffy Felinoids.

Not really an alien species, Felinoids were the product of extensive bioengineering performed by either the Nor or the Gray a few centuries ago. Initially created by biosculpting and grafting artificial animal bits, eventually a particularly inventive or deranged scientist decided to code all the fur and ears and large doe eyes into a genetic template which could be added to every Precursor species. Now there were Zuthrians with cat bits, Gravon with dog parts or Nor with bunny ears and fluffy tails. Also, Felinoids back then were treated with extensive mental alterations to make them socially graceful, especially willing and constantly horny. Since tampering with a sentient being's mind is a crime punishable by personality restructuring or death in extremely egregious cases, these modifications were performed in secret and always on the fringes of society -- until the genetic infertility safeguards broke down and Felinoids were able to reproduce like every other species. Despite the variety of animal bits which had been grafted to the originals, those with cat bits were the most prolific and the name stuck. And recently I've seen the first Felinoids of human stock. One particularly shocking example was a guy built like a tank with green lizard scales and a tongue able to lick his own crotch while standing upright. Or that Japanese girl which suddenly sprouted an octet of tentacles from orifices on her back I've seen on the VRNet. She gave the idea of 'tentacle sex' a whole other spin when she began to pleasure herself.

"Hey neow. Why the long face?" The joint's proprietress and namesake, a long-limbed Felinoid female wearing not much more than her shiny black fur and discreet fabric strips around breast and crotch, smiled at me. Her pointy ears twitched and her tail mimicked a pretty convincing question mark.

"Hey Misty. Let's call it 'job troubles' and leave it at that, all right?"

"My customers' privacy is almost as purrecious as my daughter's virginity," she said with twinkling eyes. "What can I do to make your evening that much better? A drink? Or something else entirely?" She turned around next to me, used the bar as a brace and shook her furry butt my way.

"Maybe later," I said. "Not sure if I can afford the special services menu tonight. Let's start with a double Sconoch and today's special. How about that?"

"I'm not trying to strongarm you into anything, poor little kitty me," Misty said. No idea how she did it but her smile seemed warm and genuine, the polar opposite to Neira's calculated baring of teeth. "How about a cozy, quiet booth?"

"That's... yeah, that's fine." I allowed her to pull me off the bar stool I had occupied once one became free and let her guide me deeper into the dimly lit space, past the main stage where a naked Zuthrian male and two Felinoid girls did their best to get the crowd fired up. Going by the amounts of credits on the displays surrounding the stage, they were pretty successful. Live sex seemed a surefire way to get people spending, regardless which species you belonged to. While I watched, both furballs took the male to the ground and quickly mounted his face and cock respectively, bouncing up and down in time to the thumping, bass-heavy music.

"In here," Misty suggested, pulling aside a dark curtain. Beyond, there was a semicircular, padded sofa and a wide round table with a stripper pole connecting it to the ceiling. The music was noticeably quieter here.

"When you said 'booth,' I expected two benches and a table between them," I remarked. Misty purred and pushed me into the sofa. "You will need room for dessert," she promised. With sensuously swaying hips, she left the separee.

One and a half songs later, the curtain rustled apart and two naked Felinoids came in. One was of Nor origin or very fond of dying her fur pink. She had long bunny ears which only added to her already considerable height and violet eyes which seemed to glow in the dim light of the separee. Her breasts were two cute handfuls and her hips were almost boyish. The other was at least a head shorter than the bunny girl (not measuring the long bunny ears), with a colorful tricolor fur pattern in white, green and blue which seemed oddly fitting her heterochromia eyes. She was not exactly fat but pleasantly rounded both in the bust and butt department. A long mane of metallic blue hair framed her smiling face. That smile, radiant and innocent despite our current location, managed even to chase the specter of Neira's threats away. Bunny girl carried a tray with food and drinks which she gracefully placed on the dancing table.

"Dig in, champ," Kitty girl said. She hopped onto the sofa next to me, tucked her legs under her butt and eyed me curiously.

"Don't stare, Haley," the bunny girl admonished her colleague. "You're making him nervous."

"I make everyone nervous. Or rather my eyes do," Haley said. "Meow."

"Are you... new to this?" I asked her. The food smelled delicious. Some kind of couscous. I didn't even recognize the spices -- after two months of replicated rations, one tends to forget the simple pleasure of a pinch of pepper -- but the aroma caused my innards to roar like Haley's remote ancestors. "I mean, you had to add a meow."

"I forget to meow when I'm nervous," Haley admitted. "Misty called you Vee Ai Pee so I don't want to mess this up. Meow."

"I'm hard to mess up, believe me," I said, claiming the couscous bowl and a spoon. "No need to feel pressured." The food not only smelled delicious, it was a treat. Spicy without being excessively hot, varied in taste and texture. There was meat, there were veggies and some unexpected surprises like hints of lemon. After a few bites I turned my attention to the bunny girl who sat, quietly watching, on my other side. "What's your name?"

"Can't you tell?" She leaned back against the cushions and spread her arms, putting her fur on display. I also noticed a small silver stud in her navel. "Come on, guess."

"I suck at names." I put the couscous down and claimed the bottle and a glass. Sconoch was a Zuthrian export, their idea of a no-frills, shoot-out-your-lights drink. The good stuff was supposedly made from several kinds of fermented cactus juice and -- of all things -- scorpion venom. Going by the taste, I was inclined to believe. You didn't drink this stuff to have fun or be happy. You drink Sconoch if you want to get really drunk, really fast. I almost felt bad for my company. "Okay, three tries. Afterwards you can tell me how badly I missed, okay?"

"Absolutely," the bunny girl purred. She pulled a knee in and offered a peek at her lady bits. Her fur was almost nonexistent around her labia, a translucent fuzz more than anything. "So, what's my name?"

I took a sip of my drink. Yup. No matter where you ordered that stuff, Sconoch tasted vile. "Rosy Pink? Babs Bunny? Lola maybe?"

By my third try, my companions were giggling helplessly. "Rosy is fine," the bunny girl gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. "The other two were funny as hell though."

Haley sniffed at my drink. "If you want something nicer to drink, we've brought all the ingredients for Supernovas. Or Aquarian fruit juice cocktails."

"Whichever way I spin this, I'll probably end up drunk and naked between the two of you, right?"

"Isn't that the whole point?" Rosy asked. Her hand slid under my shirt and caressed along my flank, causing instant goosebumps to shoot up my body. "I mean, if you'd rather want Blanca to play with you, we can arrange that too."

I nearly choked on my drink. Blanca was the only Felinoid of Gravon stock I had ever seen close up -- and I have seen some weird shit doing the freight circuit. But nothing came closer to breaking the absurdity scale than Blanca. Almost two and a half meters tall, a terracotta giantess with white fur, lynx ears and a striped tail. She regularly did shows on the main stage, much to the delight -- or terror -- of Misty's patrons.

"Nah, I've had enough Gravon for some time," I muttered, tossing back the rest of my Sconoch. The drink detonated in my stomach with the force of a mid-size nuclear bomb, causing me to gasp for air. "Let me finish this food first and then you may tear my clothes off."

Haley piped up. "We would never 'tear' someone's clothes off, meow!"

"She's right. Replacements would go straight out of our pay. So it's in our best interest you'll play along." Rosy's hand moved downwards and onto my thigh.

"Would watching us do each other get you going?" Haley asked. She began to purr, the low sound adding interesting harmonies to her voice. The cat girl moved around the table and sat down next to Rosy, snuggling up to her bunny-eared colleague.

Rosy took Haley's eagerly groping hands and held them in hers. "Let the man eat," she mildly admonished the blue-haired Felinoid. "You'll get your treat soon enough." Then she leaned in and kissed Haley, full on the lips. Haley reacted the only way a Felinoid knew -- she slung her arms around Rosy and went all out, hugging, groping, kissing, which in turn seemed to play havoc with Rosy's self-control. Even though modern-day Felinoids were far removed from their constantly horny and willing ancestors, there were still some triggers they found incredibly hard to resist.

Grinning, I picked up my bowl of couscous and moved a few seats away from the two giggling and noisily kissing furballs, giving them enough space when they decided to go horizontal. Despite the size difference, Haley needed less than a minute to wrestle Rosy onto her back. Before the bunny girl could even complain, Haley straddled her face. But instead of complaining or pushing her off, Rosy shrugged and dug her hands into Haley's butt cheeks and began to lave the cat girl's pussy with a rapidly flicking tongue. Haley locked gazes with me and began to move her hips in some mixture of belly dance and grinding her sex against her colleague's mouth, her tail adding off-beat accents as it whipped around behind her.

Not to blow my own horn too hard but I prided myself on my work ethic and focus. You simply can't allow yourself to be easily distracted when running a ship solo, only assisted by a positronic bird brain. One miscalculation, one mistake and -- as I had to learn the hard way -- years of hard work were simply gone, turned into scrap for scavengers to collect. I had come to Misty's for some food and oblivion, and even though my bowl was still at least a quarter full, I felt a hankering for something other than tasty couscous. After all, there was only so much self-control a guy could muster and Rosy had just spread her legs and added two of her fingers into proceedings, caressing herself -- or showing off her goods. Whatever. I knew I didn't need more food. My jeans were about to burst. So I stood up and joined the sensuously swaying duo, gently reaching out to caress Haley's mane.

"Hey, got some room in there for me too?" I asked.

"Told ya he'd be there in a flash," Haley purred, her hands going straight for my belts. First, my holster had to go. Like many professional solo operatives, I never left my ship unarmed. With a loud clunk, my concussion pistol hit the floor. A moment later, Haley was inside my jeans, pushing them downwards along with my briefs. She made an appreciative sound as my cock came free. Rosy echoed her enthusiasm, even though her moan was muffled by Haley's nethers.

"Oh, just the right size," Haley murmured. Purring, she leaned forwards and wrapped her lips around my shaft. Her tongue was rougher than a normal human's but not painfully so. The texture added a hint of 'alien' to her blowjob. And damn, she was good! Her tongue seemed to do somersaults around my rock-hard joystick and, when she decided to take me deep into her mouth, there seemed to be no gag reflex on her part, only a hot, velvety sensation engulfing me until her whiskers tickled my shaved groin.

"Hey, don't be so greedy!" Rosy complained. "I want some too!"

"Mm M Mmmm Mm?" Haley asked around my rod.

"Yes, you have to share," Rosy insisted, living proof of the Wookiee effect. In a feat of remarkable dexterity, she slithered out from underneath Haley and hugged me from behind. Her hands went under my shirt and pulled it off. Her fur was warm and soft on my naked back and her nipples were two distinct sensations as she smoothed herself against me. "Go on, touch me," Rosy offered, taking my hand. She placed it onto her sex. I curled a finger inwards, encountering her stiff clit and moist labia. She made a weird sound near my ear, a mix between a gasp and high-pitched sigh. Rosy's lips closed around my earlobe and she playfully flicked her tongue against it. Her hands replaced Haley's mouth on my flight stick. Muttering something to herself, Haley's lips closed around of my balls, suckling on it. If they kept it up, I wouldn't last long. Not after two months of enforced semi-celibacy. Quick jerks under the shower didn't really count. Rosy's hands caressed me much better than I could do myself and I knew it was only a matter of moments before I lost my load.

"If you ejaculate now, you will waste quite a lot of valuable semen. It will land all over her stomach," a cool female voice cut into my personal heaven.

Haley stopped playing with my balls. Rosy froze like the proverbial rabbit in the headlights. I sighed and disentangled myself from the heavily breathing furballs and turned to face the speaker.

She sat on the furthest seat and watched us with detached amusement. At first, I thought she was a pale-skinned human but the illusion lasted only a moment. Huffing, I pulled up my briefs and sat down, fixing her with an angry glare. Her eyes met my gaze. They were of a strange purple color, much like Rosy's. But her build was all wrong. She was tall and muscular, nearly one meter and eighty centimeters. She had the full, silver mane of a Gravon but her skin was almost porcelain white with the first hints of serious sunburn. All things considered, she was at the same time breathtakingly beautiful and utterly alien, despite all the familiar traits I saw in her.

Then there was her clothing. Some kind of robes. They used to be white but stains of ash, soot and various liquids had left them a mess. And no one had bothered to disarm her. On her right hip hung some kind of energy weapon with a curiously curved grip while on the seat next to her rested a frickin' longsword, the grip ending in a similar curved fashion.

"Didn't you see the sign outside? 'Do Not Disturb!'" Haley snarled.

"Oh, don't let my presence disturb you. I can wait until Mr. Rios has fully inseminated the two of you." The silver-haired stranger pulled the tray closer, inspected the drinks and poured herself a glass of Nor Vaporis, the basis for the tongue-melting Supernova drink.