Return to Krell

"You're so...good...at this..." Lena gasped, her breath coming in ragged bursts. He had always been God's gift to women when it came to giving head simply due to his wonderful tongue, but as they had learned more about one another and they had spent more time together, his knowledge of her alien anatomy had increased. Now he seemed to know exactly where to lick, precisely how much pressure to apply, and just how deep he should probe. He understood the purpose of her clitoris, knew how to find her G-spot. He could turn her into a delirious wreck without needing any guidance at all, all she had to do was lie back and let him have his sordid way with her.

Lena was already getting close, lurid thoughts swirling in her head as she felt Sleethe's rough snout bump against her belly. She liked not being able to see what he was doing to her down there, her imagination running wild as she envisioned his long, blue appendage pressing against her pink flesh.

He never stopped moving his tongue, he was insatiable, goaded on by the reflexive rolling of her hips. Her body was trying to fuck him, electrical pleasure coursing up her spine in tingling waves as his organ twisted and flexed. She could feel every subtle shift of his slimy tongue, her walls contracting around it desperately, the muscles in her pelvis aching as she worked them over.

Maybe she had been spending too much time at the office, she needed to do some exercise, maybe some kegels. She realized that she was drooling on the sleeve of her lab coat, wiping it away before reeling from another punishing lick.

"Oh God, you're doing the thing," she stammered. Excitement washed over her as she felt his tongue change position, pushing hard against her upper wall. He was probing for her sweet spot, apparently bored with painting her insides with his saliva, now intending to finish her off hard and fast. That, or he had understood that they didn't have all night. It was sometimes hard to tell with Sleethe.

She loosed an embarrassing whine as he found what he was looking for, digging into her most sensitive spot with his tongue, a wracking throb of pleasure reducing her to a shivering mess. She felt him grip her ankles with his many-fingered hands, his rough digits closing around her limbs to keep her from bucking free or falling from her chair in the throes of her ecstasy.

Even as he began to fuck her with his tongue, he kept up his ardent licking. The tip of his slippery appendage teased her in places that no man should have been able to reach, its length grazing her vulva from the outside and brushing against her engorged clitoris, his teeth pressing against her belly and thighs as he practically swallowed her lower body in order to get deeper.

Lena cradled her head in her hands, her vision blurring with every pulse of pleasure, her hair now messy and damp with sweat. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears, her swollen nipples brushing uncomfortably against the lining of her bra as she rocked back and forth.

She could feel her impending orgasm welling deep inside her, promising to be so intense that she was almost afraid of it.

"If you stop, I'm going to have you made into a pair of boots," she mumbled. He blew warm air up her blouse as he huffed, a shiver rolling down her spine as he gave her an especially cruel lick.

"Nearly there," Lena gasped, "nearly-"

She opened her mouth in a silent wail, her eyes screwing shut as his relentless teasing pushed her over the edge. She wheezed like she had just been punched in the gut, doubling over as her climax tore through her, her muscles seizing and her thighs clamping around his head like a vice. Rather than slowing, the alien redoubled his efforts, Lena clawing at her desk as her conscious mind took a back seat to her primal lust.

As soon as the first wave of her orgasm began to fade, a second made her its plaything, the beleaguered woman little more than a puppet with its strings cut as she lay on the desk and trembled. Sleethe could withstand a bullet to the chest, and so there was no danger of hurting him as she pressed him between her legs, his tough scales cool and rough against her quivering thighs.

Even as she was dazed by another climax, he kept up his lapping, the violent clenching of her insides and her flowing juices doing little to dissuade him. She was hypersensitive, every glance of his smooth tongue against her inner walls filling her with a kind of desperate need. She could hear him licking beneath the table, it sounded like a wet towel being dragged across the floor. His saliva, or maybe it was her come, rained from between her legs and dripped from her office chair to wet the carpet beneath. She was too lost in her pleasure to pay any mind to the mess that they were making.

All she was able to do was grip the desk and hold on for dear life as wave after wave of pleasure tore at her. She felt as if her brain fluid had been replaced with champagne, fizzing and popping as sparks danced in her mind. Gradually the rolling of her hips began to abate, Sleethe's pace taking on a slower and more placating quality. He eased out one last punishing tremor, Lena's nails digging into her palms as she balled her fists, her tension ebbing as she began to come down from her high.

She settled into her afterglow like a warm blanket, Sleethe sensing that she was done and withdrawing his long organ. He provoked another aftershock as his slimy flesh slid against her tender insides, Lena shivering contentedly as she watched him emerge from beneath her skirt. His toothy snout was linked to her loins by a sagging web of clear fluid, which he cleaned away with his tongue, licking his chops as he retreated beneath the table.

"We made a mess," she grumbled, swaying drunkenly as she propped herself up on her elbows. "You're a messy eater, Sleethe."

He seemed to have lost interest, pushing himself along the floor on his belly and returning to his usual place by the far wall. Lena found that her legs were too unsteady to support her, so she removed her glasses and slid down out of her seat, crawling towards him on her hands and knees. She struggled out of her pantyhose as she went, kicking off her pumps and discarding the sodden garment. The giant reptile opened an eye to peer at her, rumbling an invitation and lifting one of his muscular arms. She rolled under it and pressed up against his soft underbelly, hearing him grumble appreciatively as she scratched his stomach with her nails.

His arm closed around her, trapping her in a bear hug, his bicep alone probably weighing nearly as much as she did as it protruded from beneath his scaly hide. She felt another pang of arousal as she tested its firmness with her fingers, craning her neck to peer up at her scaly lover. Sometimes Lena couldn't believe that this was real. She feared that she might wake up one day and realize that it had all been a lurid dream, the content of which she wouldn't dare reveal to her friends.

It was entirely real however, Lena had bagged herself an alien warrior as a boyfriend. She still didn't really understand why he had taken such a liking to her, and she didn't have the vocabulary to ask, but she wasn't about to question her stroke of good fortune.

She pushed her face into his chest, feeling the firm slabs of his pectoral muscles beneath the layer of pudgy fat, and closed her eyes. She loved his scent, he smelled like wet leather. Maybe she'd take a quick post-coital nap, but she'd have to clean up the mess that they had made before her colleagues arrived for work tomorrow. Perhaps she would stay overnight and pretend that she had just been working overtime. She could wash up in the bathroom, and she usually carried a change of underwear for just such an occasion. Nobody would notice that her flesh-colored pantyhose were missing.

Besides, maybe they'd go a second round somewhere that she could more easily clean up after herself. One of the labs had a tile floor and Sleethe could do her on top of one of the tables...

She felt like a horny teenager sometimes, or at least what she thought a horny teenager must act like, as her formative years had been consumed by study and schoolwork. She nuzzled Sleethe's chest, the smooth scales on his underside so imperceptibly small that it felt as smooth as skin against her cheek, and he rumbled happily.

Sleep now, worry later.

CHAPTER 2: ACADEMIC PURSUITS

Lena taped the wireless pickup to her throat, then brought up her wrist-mounted computer, a military model that she had recently gotten her hands on. Having the station's security chief owe her a favor had really paid off. She calibrated it, punching in commands on the touch screen, and the computer registered the microphone.

"Testing, testing, one two three..."

The graph charted her voice in peaks and valleys, it was working correctly.

"Ok Sleethe, are you ready?"

The Krell lifted his head lazily, blinking at her as he waited. Lena cleared her throat and spoke clearly, her eyes glued to the wrist display as the software that she had written struggled to translate.

"Hello, I am a human, my name is Lena."

The speaker on the computer loosed a series of low rumbling sounds and high pitches hisses, and her heart sank. If she could hear all of the tones, then there must be some kind of problem with the calibration. She looked to Sleethe, and he shook his massive head, the hanging skin beneath his jaw flapping back and forth.

"Damn it. Maybe the speaker isn't powerful enough to transmit at the right frequency. Am I going to have to carry a subwoofer around in a backpack to make this setup work? Maybe I can boost the power output to the embedded speaker, but that's going to drain the battery like nobody's business..."

She gave Sleethe a sideways glance.

"Think the Navy will get mad if I write some custom firmware for this thing?"

Her reptilian companion returned his head to the floor of her office, closing his yellow eyes and exhaling loudly.

"Your input is appreciated," she said sarcastically. She returned to her seat at her desk and removed the computer from her forearm, hooking it up to her terminal with a cable and resuming work on her program.

Just as she was starting to become engrossed, her office door opened, and she was distracted as Helen walked into the room.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Miss Webber, but there's a vidphone call coming through and your terminal is set to silent mode."

"Oh, sorry Helen. I'm working with audio equipment and I didn't want anything to throw off my measurements. I'll be right there."

The secretary nodded and retreated back the way she had come, closing the door behind her.

"Must be something important if Helen came to fetch me," she mused, rising to her feet and straightening her lab coat. "Wait here Sleethe, I'll be back soon."

He opened one eye to watch her as she left the office, more concerned with getting his beauty sleep than with the affairs of the scurrying humans.

Lena made her way down the corridor towards the front desk, passing by many doors that resembled her own. Some of these offices were occupied, others were not. The research center was fairly small by most standards, but so were all of the accommodations on the Pinwheel. It was built into the station's hull, the facade that faced out towards the station's donut-shaped torus sculpted to resemble a real brick and mortar building, all to sell the illusion that the station's occupants were living on a terrestrial planet and not a giant wheel that was spinning through space.

Lena found that it helped to think of things in terms of spaceships, rather than traditional buildings. The research center would make for a tiny building, but it was expansive and lavish by Navy standards. She had traveled on jump carriers before, and the personnel were crammed together like sardines, sleeping in bunks that were three men tall. She might complain about the size of her office, but at least on the Pinwheel she could stretch her legs and feel a breeze in her hair, even if it was artificial.

She arrived at the front desk where Helen was waiting for her, and the secretary pointed to a video phone that was mounted on a nearby wall. Lena walked over to it, seeing that a man was waiting for her on the monitor. She immediately recognized his bushy, salt and pepper beard, along with his signature tweed jacket. It was Professor Barnes of the United Academy of Sciences, an alliance of research institutes and colleges that spanned several human colonies. She had studied under him during her years at Cambridge University, and she had worked on xenolinguistics for his research division during her internship on Franklin. He was her mentor and benefactor, and she suddenly felt rather embarrassed for having made the old man wait.

"Professor Barnes!" She exclaimed, "what a pleasant surprise! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, there you are Miss Webber," he grumbled. He had a thick London accent, and his appreciation of scotch had reddened his cheeks over the years. At times he looked like an especially portly and unkempt Santa Claus, perpetually out of breath. Barnes straightened his round spectacles as he leaned closer to the camera to get a better look at her.

"Damn this infernal...there we are. You're looking as ravishing as ever, my dear girl. Might I inquire as to how work on your Krell translator is proceeding?"

"Very well Professor," she replied, "I've made some progress recently. I'm encountering some hardware problems, but I hope to find a solution soon."

"Very good, very good," he mumbled. "There have been some very exciting developments as of late, Miss Webber. Your UNN sponsored visit to the Krell homeworld last year made waves in the scientific community. The Brokers had never allowed anyone to visit the planet before, as secretive as they tend to be. They seem to care deeply about the Krell, guarding them against even entirely benign research ventures, which I'm sure that you can imagine has frustrated our efforts to study the 61 Cygni system and the Krell species to no end."

The Brokers were the enigmatic founders of the Coalition, the multi-species alliance to which the UNN belonged. Due to the crisis on the Pinwheel, they had allowed a small research team to land on the surface of the Krell homeworld in an attempt to find a solution to the population problem. The miserly aliens seemed to have a deep and mysterious relationship with the Krell, she remembered how the primitive planet had been ringed with Broker orbital defenses and ships.

Humans were the third species to join the Coalition, the Brokers and Krell both preceding them, and the aliens seemed almost symbiotic at times. It was Broker vessels that dropped off Krell auxiliaries on the station, and Brokers who defended their planet, the Krell themselves lacking the necessary technology and seeming to live in a tribal state.

She remembered her time on Krell well, the foggy swamps and the green skies, the mud flats and the stench of rotting vegetation. The planet had been rather awful, Webber was not accustomed to fieldwork, but the fleeting glimpses into the Krell culture and their strange way of life had stuck with her. It was fascinating, and not even being able to ask Sleethe to explain the details to her was a source of endless academic frustration.

"Why do you bring it up, Professor?"

"Well, the UAS had been going back and forth with the Brokers for months, trying to secure limited access to the planet so that we might continue the research that you and your colleagues started. It looks as if we might finally have made a deal that suits them, however their terms are very strict. In exchange for some rather...exorbitant fees, they will allow a single human to visit a location of their choosing. This person may bring whatever scientific equipment that they require, on the condition that do not carry a weapon, and that they do their utmost to avoid disturbing the local Krell in their natural habitat. The scientist in question may stay for as long as they need, but they may only make one visit. Once they leave the planet they will not be allowed to return again, at least until a new deal is brokered."

Lena was smart enough to know where Barnes was going with this, and a mixture of excitement and apprehension overcame her.

"You want...me to go? Why? Surely there are explorers and field agents who are far more qualified than I am?"

"There are indeed, but I believe that you're the woman for the job, my dear. My colleagues did not agree unfortunately, but their efforts to find someone else have all been rather fruitless, and so they finally acquiesced and let me place this call. They first contacted one Luc Dubois, a Frenchman who fancies himself an adventurer. I believe you're already acquainted with the man."

Lena rolled her eyes, remembering the self-styled explorer. He had accompanied the research team to the surface of the planet during their last visit. Describing him as 'kind of an asshole' would be the understatement of the century.

"Needless to say, he was not interested in the venture," Barnes continued. "In fact he seemed immediately hostile to the idea. Perhaps the last expedition didn't agree with him."

Lena suppressed a smirk, remembering the man's encounter with an especially aggressive female Krell. He was probably still nursing his wounded pride.

"Next we tried to contact Davi Sousa, but it appears that he's wrapped up in some classified work on Jarilo. He wouldn't say much about it besides that it was very important and that he was entirely occupied for the foreseeable future. You are the third choice, and my first. It is my opinion that you are uniquely qualified for this position Miss Webber, due to your unparalleled knowledge of Krell language and your recent progress in coding translation software. You also have a Krell companion, and the Brokers only specified the number of humans who could travel to 61 Cygni. He can serve as your guide, and hopefully keep you safe from any unforeseen dangers that you might face in the uncharted swamps."

Lena hesitated for a moment, it was all happening so fast. Did she want to return to the Krell homeworld? Absolutely, there were so many mysteries that she had yet to unravel, so many curiosities both personal and professional that she longed to satisfy. But what of her work on the Krell translator? It could help her immensely, but it was not yet complete.

"I can see that you'll require some time to think about it," Barnes said, "there's no rush. This expedition has taken months to organize, and it can certainly stand to wait a few more days. You know where to reach me when you come to a decision. I hope that you'll accept the offer Miss Webber, I can't think of anyone better suited to the task than you."

"I'll give it some thought and get back to you very soon," she replied. "Thank you Professor Barnes, I won't let you down."

They said their goodbyes and she disconnected, standing in front of the terminal as she chewed nervously on a fingernail. The timescale on the Krell translator had just been slashed, she had to get it ready and working before Barnes and his colleagues ran out of patience and decided to hire someone else for the job. She could visit the planet without it, but the ability to communicate at least partially with the locals would doubtless reveal invaluable information. Rather than merely observing their culture and their alien practices from afar, she could have the Krell explain what was happening, provide crucial context that would make all the difference. The stars had aligned, and this was something that only she could accomplish.

She spun around and marched back towards her office, her pumps echoing on the tile floor.