Meer Kass

She let the drumbeats wash over her body, soothing away the tension of the night. The broken images jittered over the screen, meaningless glimpses of naked beings flickering past as she jumped through the channels without registering any of them. She lifted the delicate balloon-shaped glass and drained the last of the brandy. She felt pleasantly disassociated, floating, drifting away from her troubles. She stretched and twitched her tail, feeling a warm langour creeping over her limbs. She sighed and flicked her claws slowly down her chest, dragging them lightly over the soft fur and arching her back. Her channel-jumping grew slower as she purred, dropping the glass to roll on the soft carpet and running her palm over a row of hardening nipples. She groaned, tail lashing, and flicked the topmost with a claw tip, then drew in her breath sharply and wriggled lower in her chair. Soon her hoarse, rhythmic breathing nearly drowned the music; the muted screen sat, unregarded, on a Salariki channel as she stroked both hands down her nipples and began to rub her thighs. She stretched out her legs, knocking the control to the floor, and ran the rough pads of her fingers up her thighs, higher, stroking, teasing, finding the center of pleasure and caressing it as her thunderous purr filled the room. The action on the screen paused; she tilted her head back, trembling on the edge, looking for release. She imaged Kimtok's rough, pointed tongue; she stroked harder. She focused on the image of the kneeling Salariki at the port that night and hung, aching, body writhing for release. She stared at the screen, the taut young Salariki pair moving with luxurious ease. Still she throbbed on the edge of fulfillment. She tossed her head, growling, quivering with frustrated desire. She grabbed the control and flicked the channels three, four times – and paused on an image of an ursoid Gruth pleasuring a human male, kneeling before him and bobbing her head down the length of his pulsing shaft.

She came like a thunderbolt.

***

Kass needs Con Kass wants Con Kass loves Con Kass wants more of Cons music Kass wants more of Con Kass wants to touch wants to feel wants to please Con Kass wants to please Con Kass wants to touch Con Kass loves Con Kass trusts Con Kass loves Cons music Kass wants more music Kass wants more Con more Con more Con Kass wants to stroke Con lick Con kiss Con touch Con please Con worship Con adore Con be Cons be Cons be Cons Kass wants to be Cons Kass wants to be Cons Kass wants to kneel before Con kneel and adore Con love Con be Cons please Con please Con please Con love Con trust Con lick Con touch Con love Cons skin Cons face Cons hands Cons cock love Con

[repeat]

***

She was avoiding him. He was sure of it. She normally arrived a little after the main rush, choosing to avoid the crush of the morning crowd. But for the past three days she'd come right at the peak, at a time when he couldn't do more than scramble up passcards as quickly as they were requested. She wouldn't meet his eyes, either; twice she'd deliberately engaged someone in conversation in the lobby and walked with them to the desk, manufacturing an excuse to avoid looking at or speaking to him. She looked flustered and nervous, and skittered away as soon as she'd jerked the card from his hand as if trying to avoid any contact with his skin.

He couldn't decide if it was a good sign or a bad sign. She was fighting it, he was sure. But was her agitation a sign that she was starting to cave in? He hesitated a day in indecision, trying to decide if another push would bring capitulation or disaster. At last he slid the disk into her mailbox without note or comment.

***

The com unit buzzed. It had been buzzing, on and off, for most of the day. She sighed, closed her eyes, and turned up the music, letting the drumbeats drown the summons and throb through her body. She lay, slumped, on a heap of luxurious cushions, sprawled semi-naked with a crystal decanter by her side. She tilted her head back to drain the last of the vibrant emerald wine from her goblet and then set it down, lifting the decanter and pouring unsteadily as she groaned and rubbed her face. She was clad only in the thinnest of gauze robes, open down the front, and she stroked her claws up and down the soft fur of her belly as she pulled the goblet to her and drank again. On the screen in front of her, three naked humans cavorted in crude but somehow fascinating sexplay. She peered at them muzzily and licked her whiskers with a pointed tongue.

Last night, while blind drunk, she'd finally allowed herself to search for a vid of a human and a Salariki. She could find no such thing, but eventually turned up one featuring a human male and a female Trianni, a huge, tigerish race from the west galaxy. The human had placed a thick leather collar on the Trianni's neck and chained her hands behind her back, and apparently used a shock whip to enforce his commands. Kass watched the bound feline kneel to service the human's shaft with her mouth, then lick over his body, nuzzling him obediently. She'd lapped his testicles and anus, then knelt, face grinding into the floor, as he entered her from behind. Kass had watched it three times through and had come to orgasm again and again. By the end, the throbbing of the drumbeats seemed almost to pulse through the waves of her pleasure.

Now, watching the three humans, she battled with herself. She wanted to watch the human and the Trianni again, but loathed herself for the perverse fascination. She sighed and eyed the decanter. It was nearly empty. She drank deeply from her goblet, then held it to the light. A few more swallows. A few more from the decanter. And then ... she might forget herself and watch the vid again. She closed her eyes, feeling the wine drifting her far from reason, and flexed her claws as she slid her hands down to stroke her thighs again. The drumbeats thundered on.

***

Kass Kass Kass loves Con Kass loves Con wants more music needs more music needs to listen listen always listen to Cons music listen to Cons music love Con worship Con kneel before kneel and adore lick kiss suck touch feel rub love worship Con trust Con trust Con yield to Con yield to Con kneel to Con please Con obey Con worship Con desire Con want Con need Con need Con please Con love Con stroke Con rub Con lick Con kiss Con love Cons skin love Cons body love Cons cock love Cons cock love Cons cock want Con need Con worship Con adore Con submit to Con submit to Con submit

[repeat]

***

He was in agony. Had he pushed too far? He'd been concerned about the latest subliminals. She was still fighting it, but he had been afraid to wait any longer; she might overcome it and shake the whole thing off. Now she hadn't been in for three days, and he was burning with curiosity and dread. What if he'd pushed her too hard? What if she'd done something ... drastic? What if it wasn't possible to change ideas so strongly ingrained in her? Maybe he'd done her some kind of terrible damage, really fucked her up. Maybe she just couldn't handle the reversal of thought. He swore and pulled at his hair, mentally kicking himself. Fucking Dag and his smart ideas. It had been stupid from the start. He'd been screwing around with things he didn't understand, and now he'd –

"Con."

He looked up, startled. It was past midday; what was she doing in now?

"Ah, Meer Kass. I hope you're, uh ... feeling better?"

She nodded, looking weary but calm – much less nervous than when he last saw her. She seemed assured, but there was something underneath. He couldn't read it.

"Much recovered, thank you, Con." She seemed to linger on his name. He hoped so. She leaned forward over the counter. "I wanted to thank you, as well, for the music. It's been quite a comfort while I was ... ill."

"That's, um, really good to hear Meer Kass. I'm glad you're feeling better. You, uh, need room five, corridor one?"

She eyed him. "Not this day. I need the passcard to the roof port. I believe I have clearance there."

Con nodded, clicking quickly over the computer screen. "Yes, you do. But I don't see any landings scheduled – "

"It is a departure. I leave shortly. It is time I went up."

Con nodded, baffled. The screen read nothing on the pad. "I'll take you up, then. Com me from the pad when you return."

Kass nodded and waited as he secured the alcove. He struggled to make small talk, nonplussed at her strangely serene manner. She only smiled in response, sphinx-like, and waited for him to escort her to the elevator to the landing pad. The doors closed and the machinery hummed into action.

"OK, for security reasons we can't give you the passcard from the pad to the main building, but once you log back from the flight, you just need to – uh!"

He stopped abruptly as Kass slapped at the pause switch of the elevator and pinned him against the wall with a hungry kiss. It was startling and amazing; her tongue, rough and soft, dipped into his mouth, licking and tasting him eagerly while her claws dug into the padded wall behind him with a soft ripping sound. She leaned there, a hand on either side of him over his head, body rubbing against his eagerly. It was taut, muscular, springy – he yanked himself out of his daze and grabbed her. Her fur was sleek, silky, erotic – just as he’d dreamed it. In seconds he was struggling with her robe, trying to raise the low hem, then finding the catches and opening it down the front. All the while she was leaning into him, licking into his mouth and nuzzling his lips. He groaned, feeling her thighs pressing against his own, her leg rubbing intently over his instant erection. He slid his hands into her robe, stroking his thumbs, with a feeling of disbelief, up the rows of nipples, four on each side, watching her arch and quiver as he touched them. They were dark, flat, close to the body, not at all like human breasts, but the feel of the silky fur around them spoke directly to his libido, and in a moment he had his tongue to one.

She purred, a deep rumble, then gave a long sigh that sounded like release from torment. She dipped her head and body, moving to bring her lips to his again, whiskers brushing his face as her tongue explored his mouth. Slowly she let herself slide down his body, claws dragging lightly down him as she nuzzled her way lower to kneel before him. He fought to keep control; the sight alone was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He stared down, watching her cloudy silver mane of flat, sleek curls flow over her neck as her hands moved over the fastenings of his coveralls. She nuzzled his crotch through the fabric as her hands worked at the catches, and he could hear the whimpering moan he gave as her long tongue curved up under his balls and then licked forward and up the length of his shaft, her warm breath sighing through the fabric. He yanked at the upper catches, wriggling violently in his haste to be rid of the material, and in a few moments struggled loose. An instant later he was leaning against the wall of the elevator, trembling and gasping as she took his shaft into her mouth and licked it hard. Her tongue was rougher, longer, and more agile than any human's; his head swam, and he pushed at her gently, trying to gain a second or two of control before he lost it completely. He looked down as she slowly pulled back, and his cock twitched hard. She was kneeling before him, one hand on his shaft, her robe open down the front - the kind of thing he'd dreamed of. But her eyes were what made his blood boil. They were slitted in pleasure, deep pools of utter fulfillment, and their only desire was to please him.

He took a deep breath, then reached down to stroke her head and ears. She purred again, and he pressed his shaft forward a little. She smiled and stroked him gently, claws curving carefully under the shaft. She leaned forward and nuzzled her head under his length, tongue darting out to lick low and hungrily. He couldn't help a groan of pleasure at the warm, rough stroke of her tongue combined with the sleek silky brush of her furred head against his cock. She lapped his balls gently, lingering over them, her tongue teasing and stroking until his knees felt ready to give way. Finally he found his voice and panted to her:

"Suck it, Kass. Please."

Eyes slitting nearly closed with pleasure, she nodded and licked up the length of his shaft, reaching up with one hand to stroke and fondle his balls. When she reached the head of his cock, she licked it hard several times, quickly, then opened her mouth and slid it in. He felt a moment of panic at the sight of her sharp white teeth; then with a moan of pleasure he felt her envelope him to the hilt. Her tongue massaged the underside of his cock as she sucked softly and bobbed her head up and down the shaft. She licked and sucked with little tosses of her head, teeth well guarded as she worked him into her throat with hungry swallowing movements. Her paws pressed on his thighs and her claws pricked lightly at the skin as she nuzzled home. At last her cool nose nestled against his pubic hair, and her tongue lapped out suddenly to lick his balls again. He gripped her mane and hunched, wrapping himself around that amazing sensation, barely able to keep to his feet as he pulled back just a little and pushed into her mouth with the gentlest thrust he could manage.

She began to purr.

He shuddered and threw his head back, feeling the deep vibration throb through his cock and jolt up his spine as he dug his fingers into her mane. He thrust deep into her throat, cramming himself instinctively into her as his back arched and he knotted his hands in her fur. In a moment he was thrusting frantically, restraint forgotten as her purring shuddered through his loins and her tongue stroked him to ecstasy, her claws pricking his skin as she gripped his thighs and pulled him hungrily into her mouth. Finally he buried himself to the hilt and sobbed with pleasure as the orgasm wracked him. Kass purred and nuzzled through it, lapping him down eagerly as he throbbed against her warm, rough tongue.

When the rush finally subsided, he leaned against the wall, trembling, barely able to stand. Kass licked her whiskers clean and then lapped over his body, cleaning down his thighs and up his belly. With a last long, caressing lick she leaned back, still kneeling, and looked up to him. He saw the strange hopefulness in her eyes and shuddered, feeling a dreamlike haziness coming over him. He stroked her head and she leaned into his hand, rubbing against it like a pet cat. Con shakily gathered up his coveralls, getting back into them as he wondered how to proceed from there. Kass quietly fastened her robe, then stood, ruffling back her mane.

"Kass, I, uh ... I don't know what to say ..."

She shook her head. "If you take what I give, you make me most happy." She looked down a minute, then back up, curiously vulnerable. "Did I please you?"

Con groaned, letting his head thump back against the wall of the elevator. "Oh yeah. You pleased me."

Kass nodded, then stood. She came to lean against him, licking softly at his neck. She was tall; she stooped to nuzzle him, but there was something delicately yielding in her gesture. She murmured softly in his ear.

“I will please you again …?”

Con ran his hands over her shoulders, up her neck as he kissed her.

“Again. Any time you want.”

Kass smiled.

***

Con fidgeted over his drink. He’d never noticed how seedy and dingy the bar was; he’d come here all of the time when he lived nearby in the grimy low-rent sectors. He sighed, toying with the stack of disks in front of him. That tiny bare room with its thin walls, its constant noise, its ground-in smell of loneliness and desperation – it was hard to see how he’d managed to stand it. Meer Kass’s villa was as sleek, warm, and delicious to the touch as her own taut body, a banquet for the senses. It was going to be hard to leave.

The last month had been incredible. He walked through work in a haze, barely noticing Ko’s astonished chitterings and the amused glances of the rest of the staff. His mind wasn’t on his tasks, but it hardly seemed to matter; he spent all day thinking about getting home to the villa and discovering new ways to make Kass’s body arch and purr against him. Not that they usually bothered to wait for evening – she’d called him to her office for “assistance” so often that it was a running joke in the halls. She didn’t seem to care, either. She’d been open enough in her liaisons with other Salariki – their culture attached no special shame to such encounters. But a human … he’d expected embarrassment, or at least secrecy. Instead, she sought him out with an open sensuality that was flattering in its deliberate transparency. Now every time he saw her Ko rattled off “KASS COME FOR SHE MONKEY BOY! TIME FOR FEED KITTY!” and laughed itself almost off of the desk. The other humans treated him with a mixture of admiration and envy, but mostly with good cheer. They were glad to see someone from down the ranks make it lucky big time.

He gulped his drink, then slammed the glass down. Damnit. It was good. But it needed to end. He felt like an idiot; he had exactly what he wanted. Kass was even talking about taking him on her next mission. With her behind him, he could finally be something better than a flunky-level desk jockey. He could get a start in the trade; he could work his way into an apprenticeship. Hell, Kass would take him without a question. She’d see him through. Then he’d have his own trophies to add to the exotic jewels, the shining sculptures, the intricate tapestries that graced the villa, relics from her trading missions to a thousand strange and beautiful worlds. He would have a place there – his own place.

But it wasn’t his place. Nothing would make it his place. And nothing would make her honestly his. It was time to admit it. He thought of her as he’d seen her that morning, wide green eyes gazing at him with frank desire and … love. He’d turned away from her, and he’d felt her hurt when he did. She wanted him. She wanted him in a way that no Salariki had any business wanting him, or anybody. She wanted to be his alone, and in her race exclusivity was practically an abnormality. She wasn’t just sleeping with him; she was staying with him, helping him, turning down every Salariki male in port to go home with a naked monkey. People were talking. And he couldn’t look her in the eye any more.

He shoved the glass away, straightening. Dag came in, glancing around for him. He waved, ordered them both a round as his friend pushed through the crowded bar.

“Nice choice.” Dag grimaced, wriggling past a pair of heavy-set Gruths to reach the bar. “Thought you were moving upmarket now. Couldn’t you spring for something a little cleaner?”

Dag glanced at Con, grinning – then let his smile fade as he saw his expression.

“Damn, Con, you look like shit. Get that drink inside of you.”

Con nodded, and both drank quietly. Dag glanced at him, but waited for him to speak in his own time. Finally, Con shoved the stack of disks at him.

“Look, I really appreciate you helping me. I just … I can’t use them any more.”

Dag blinked, surprised, then nodded slowly.

“Yeah. OK. Sorry they didn’t work out for you.”

“Oh, they worked. Fuck, they worked.”

Dag drew the disks slowly over to himself, eying them a little warily.

“Really?”

“Yeah. She just … everything. You have no idea.”

Dag toyed with the disks, watching Con’s troubled expression. “Wow. I didn’t really think they’d do it.”

Con nodded. “That semi-perceptible shit … it worked like hell.” He stared bleakly into his drink, then turned abruptly, pushing the words out fast.

“Look, stopping like this … it’s not gonna, you know … fuck her up or something, is it? I mean, not hearing those … things.”