Starr vs the Emperor of Space Pt. 12

"A well known wolfish trait," Mark said, his eyes glittering.

"Quite..." Luna's teeth flashed in a grin. "And so, to tell if your story is true or falsehood, I merely need to ride your hips until your bones turn to powder..."

"If it's merely tactility that matters, can't you just hold my hand?" Mark asked, walking slowly forward as he did so, his hands brushing along his hair, slicking it back. The bright redness of her tongue swept along the lupine legislator's muzzle, pausing on one of her cruel canines as she let her predatory eagerness show in her expression.

"Would you believe me if I said the tactile telepathy is entirely within my space pussy?" she murmured.

"Not for one moment," Mark said, then cupped the wanton wolfwoman and kissed her! His tongue and her tongue played together, her tongue larger and broader, but his more questing and, to his surprise, somewhat more skilled. His hands went along her sides, feeling her soft, silky silver fur under his palms and then he swept them up and under her tunic, hefting her heavy breasts, squeezing them eagerly and drawing forth an eager moan into his mouth -- a moan that became hungry words as she drew her muzzle away from his lips.

"Mmm, our Earthman knows what he likes!"

"Surprised there's only two, considering how wolfish you are," Mark purred, then tugged his hands out from under her shift, but only to then pull her shift up and above her head. The eager wagging of Luna's tail and the swiftness of her lifting her arms above her head only accentuated how very much she was in favor of being stripped so -- and now, she was dressed in nothing but her silver circlet and a pair of silver rings that hung from her large, pink nips. Mark gently took hold of those with his fingertips, tugging on them and drawing forth a soft croon from her.

"Ah, do you wish I had eight, like your Earth wolves?" Luna murmured.

"Oh no, I am a firm believer in only having as much wolf as I can appreciate," Mark said, grinning at her as he leaned forward and kissed at her throat. "Ah, you are a lovely beast..." His hands slid from her breasts to her hips, but her paws stopped him, grabbed him, then spun him about, so that he was sprawled upon his back. Mark let out a soft gasp while she crooned, then grinned down at him with eagerness that bordered on the frightening.

"Let us test how much that is, Earthman," the savage senator said, grinning as she swung her muscular thighs wide and then settled her seven feet of muscular womanhood above him, towering even more from Mark's supine position. His tongue darted along his lips, and he tasted the warm tang of her eager sex dripping from the folds of her sex onto his lips. His hands reached up and he used his thumbs to gently spread her pussy, admiring the gorgeousness of her, the glittering silvery bead of her clit shining brightly, like a reflective moon. She chuckled softly at his expression. "Some say we wolfwomen evolved that to guide our poor men -- their eyesight is so bad..." She licked her chops. "But the real reason is far simpler."

"Oh?" Mark asked, voice quieting as Luna lowered her rump down, sliding her knees along the bed to draw her gray sex closer and closer to his mouth. Every inch she drew closer, the scent got more intense...a fierce, feminine smell that drove Mark's brain into a wild fit of desperate longing. He wished her to drag the moment out -- so he might enjoy it longer -- nearly as much as he wished, badly, for her to simply sit her sopping wet sex upon his face and drown him in her pleasure...

"The real reason is that it looks sexy as hell," Luna crooned, her claws digging into the rough, simple, much scarred headboard of her bedroom. Mark's hands slid from her pussy to her ass and his head rose to meet her hips -- but her weight bore him down, pinning him to the bed as the wolfwoman started to gently rock her hips against him, adding pressure and movement to his lapping tongue with her own powerful muscles, fucking herself against his oh so willing face! His tongue thrust into her sex as his hand reached up, cradling not just her ass, but holding her tail as well. His nose bumped her clit and the warmth of her juices flowed along his chin, dripping onto his neck as the senator panted softly, her voice a quiet whine. "Ah, yes...I see...ah...I see your Earthman ways are...not so backwards as I had worried...gods..."

Her claws creaked against wood as she gripped the bed, her hips rocking faster now. Mark, knowing that he needed to redouble his attack, swept his hand that was currently cradling her ass about. He drew his mouth back a fraction of an inch, just enough to get his palm against her sex -- and with her bountiful size compared to his relatively slight frame, he skipped one, two, and three fingers and instead thrust four into her, crooking them against the shared pleasure-centers that many Space Women had. The result was explosive both verbally and orgasmically -- her juices spurted onto his eager tongue, while her howling moan filled the room as she threw back her head and crooned, as if to some distant moon -- but it was to his fingers and tongue that she sang her mournful song.

"Ah...ah...ah..." she panted. "I need your Earthman cum to...ah...fully read you, Mark...ah...fuck me. Fuck me like the french whore you screwed in Paris..." Her voice was hungry and knowing -- and Mark felt the old memory resurge within him, his cheeks burning.

"How did-"

"You have your tongue and fingers in my cunt, Mark," Luna Lazuli crooned, her golden eyes flaring with lustful light. "Or did you imagine I jested when I said I had tactile telepathy?"

Mark laughed, then grinned. He drew his fingers away from her sex, licking them one by one, with slow, sensual movements of his tongue. "Which French whore?" he murmured.

"Annalise, of course..." Luna murmured, and proved she knew of what she spoke as her paws pressed to the bed and her hips rose up -- presenting herself as...well, as a female wolf might when the heat was upon her and she needed her alpha to breed in her eager, willing womb! Mark, feeling the old triumphal urges of those heady post war days, slid up, pushing himself to a sitting, then kneeling position with a few quick jerks. His hand grabbed her tail, jerked upwards, and she groaned, buying her face against the bed, her tail twitching against his palm. Mark gripped his cock and slapped the fat tip of himself against her pussy -- and felt an odd pang...a part of him wished her sex was purple, that this larger than life woman was Robin, to be bred by his cock...

Before he could push that aside, Luna chuckled. "We...have the science to give her both, you know..." Her eyes gleamed, looking back over his shoulder. "And that is why I trust you, Mark Styles..." She groaned, then, her eyes half closed as Mark, driven by the raw lust burning through his veins, thrust the first few inches of his cock into her, groaning himself as he felt the tightness of her space pussy clench about him. "Ah...no servant of Zardo could love as purely as you do -- for you love them all, don't you..."

"I..." Mark flushed, then gasped as Luna thrust her hips back more, impaling herself upon his cock, their hips meeting with a muffled slap of silky fur on sleek, slippery skin. "Hnn! I...I suppose I do love Zella and Robin and even C'law in my own queer way. And...Gennie...oh that girl deserves better than this world has given her." He started to rock his hips, panting softly...and his eyes widened as he felt the tingling pleasure of being penetrated himself. He could feel the phantom pussy that, even now, he was plundering! "W-What?"

"Ah...our minds are becoming one!" Luna groaned, sounding shocked. "That...that almost never happens! Ah!" She moaned as his hands gripped her hips -- feeling the way his strength pleased her, and feeling that pleasure within himself! He marveled, then, at the sensation of her heavy, full breasts swinging and slapping against herself, of the way her nipples felt like his nipples. Sensitive. Tingling. Begging for him to tug and squeeze them -- and so, Mark felt his hands drawn forward, as if by magnets. His palms cupped her. Squeezed her. Tugged upon her nipples!

"Ah! Yes!" Mark groaned, feeling Luna's own pleasure. "What does it mean!"

"I! I don't know!" Luna cried out. "Fuck me, Mark! Claim my pussy for your own! Yes! Yes!" She groaned, her claws digging into the bed, rending the sheets in her thoughtless pleasure as Mark's heavy balls clapped against her silver-furred thighs, the muffled thumps almost musical to his ears. Mark ducked his head forward, marveling at the feeling of thrusting-while-being-thrust-into and felt his own orgasm and Luna's rushing towards him, the two similar feelings intertwining, feeding into one another!

"Yes! Yes! Yes! YES!" Luna screamed. "YES!" She threw her head back, howling -- and Mark joined her, though his Earthman throat was not made to sing such songs. He did his best effort as his balls clenched and his thick, virile cum overflowed, spilling into the sensual senator, splashing around his cock as he churned his seed into her, fucking it deeper into her willing womb. Mark felt the sensations of cum gushing into his -- her -- womb, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He fell backwards, overcome...and the instant his cock sprang free from her pussy, their minds snapped apart and he was once more entirely within his own skin, which felt several sizes too tight.

He and Luna twitched upon the bed, gasping heavily.

"We...ah..." Luna murmured. "We launch the rockets tomorrow, Mark. We sail for the Moon and...I hope...for an end to Aytan Zardo..." She started to close her eyes. "Hold me tight, Earthman." It was not an order, rather. It was a request...and it was one that Mark was oh so happy to concede too. He crawled forward, draped an arm around the muscular shoulders of the taller woman, and buried his smaller form against her.

***

Gennie squirmed as she sat on her bed, watching Zella and C'law sleeping, the two of them cuddled together, C'law's cum still dripping from the well fucked Princess' eager, royal pussy. She, being a robot, did need to sleep from time to time. But it was always while charging her portable lithotronic batteries, not just at any old time. Her batteries were currently at eighty percent, and she knew she need not charge them for some time...and so, she was left with nothing to do as the Underground prepared their rockets across the solar system. Here, with all the immediate work done, many were sleeping...and she was left wondering what it was she was doing here.

It had seemed a grand adventure, to help the lovely Mark Styles free the solar system. And she had led him to the Underground...but...

"But I'm no good in a fight," she whispered to herself. "I'm just a serving bot...useless in a space battle. Oh dear." She stood, then, shaking herself. "No need to fret yourself anymore, Gennie...might as well top off, and sleep."

She slipped from the room quietly and walked through the Underground base, till she found Robin Robinson. The massive, four armed woman was busy sharpening blades, checking armor plating on her weapon harness, and had several partially disassembled rocket-bolt weapons around him. It seemed a true warrior never relented in taking care of their tools. Seeing it made Gennie's artificial heart feel as if it was thundering a million times faster than it normally did -- the Cybrid was so large and powerful and brave! Not like her at all. Gennie almost fled back to her room when Robin glanced back over her shoulder and smiled.

"Oh, it's our own Mechanical Turk," she said.

"I...beg pardon?" Gennie asked.

"Nevermind," Robin said, shaking her head. "What are you doing up still, Gennie?"

"I am looking for a charge station," Gennie said. "And...and a use..."

"I'm afraid I can't offer the latter...but the former!" Robin said, then brushed aside some crates and boxes, moving with with shocking ease considering they were filled with heavy rocket-bolts. The charging port was right there, and Gennie felt a rush of relief as she stepped over, taking the port out. She tried to reach back behind herself, but the port was located most inconveniently. Her cheeks burned. Back home, her charge station was designed to...ahem...lock in. But here...

She overcame her embarrassment to stammer out a quick: "Miss Robinson, can you, ah...help me with this?"

"Of course," Robin's husky, feminine voice made Gennie's heart thunder in her chest even faster -- her tubes tingled and she slowly bent forward, to give better access to the port as Robin took her shoulder, holding her in place. Her other hand took the charter and glided the warm, narrow tip along the small of Gennie's back. Gennie bit her rubbery lip, her fans whirring as she felt the tip of the charger tease around the socket of her charging port. "Is this the right one?"

"Y-Yeah..." Gennie whispered.

"Should I just slide it in?"

"Y-Yeah, but..." Gennie ducked her head forward, hiding her face against her arms as she bent against a nearby crate. "B-Be gentle."

"Oh I will." Robin's croon made her fans buzz even harder. The charging prod slid into her with a slow, sensual click, bottoming out and buzzing her spine with the tingle of warm, fresh electricity. Gennie barely managed to clip her hand over her lips before the moan escaped her -- but she knew her juices were dripping along her thighs! She hoped, prayed, that the experienced warrior woman did not see how shamefully aroused she was by this being done to her. "There we go, lassie."

"Thanks..." Gennie gasped out. She closed her eyes, feeling the warm glow of her batteries beginning to refresh -- and then she felt a shocking jolt of information, buzzing into her brain. "Ah drat! The company thinks they still own me."

"Oh?" Robin asked.

"Yes, this darned thing is electro-sending me the entire manifest for every rocket that is letting anyone off on the city!" Gennie said, shaking her head as her eyes remained closed, the names scrolling past quickly as she was forced to internalize each. "It's so that if I meet them as a greeter, I can give them the best tour pos- EEP!" She squeaked.

"What? Is the charging station hurting?" Robin asked.

But Robin could not, dared not, respond -- for the text scrolling before her eyes was stark and terrible as a blooming mushroom cloud on a planetary surface...and perhaps just as deadly. For one of the rocket landing missives was of an unmarked freighter, not unexpected...but the names that were being read off started with CAPTAIN SKAR TAILSCORN, then JOHN DANGER, JOHN DARK, JOHN EVIL, JOHN EVILIE, JOHN-

Those names...those names she recognized! They were clone trooper names! They were the simple names used among them to register them beyond their serial numbers and code-glyphs. She knew this, for she had seen many a troop ship disembark before...but this was no troop ship at all! This was an unmarked freighter, and now, she had nearly three platoons worth of clone troopers on her station! On her city! Quickly, Gennie sent an electro-message through the impossibly vast network of vacuum tubes and copper wires that made up the fantastically advanced and sophisticated electro-forum of the floating Ringcity One.

In this electro-forum, almost five hundred people could communicate at the same time, posting ideas, thoughts, and asking questions of one another, all at lightning fast speeds, using texts and small images too to bolster their points and ideas. Even better, the electro-forum could allow direct person to person communication -- and it was this very communication that might now very well save Gennie and her friends! She practically sobbed with relief when her good friend, the robotic serving lass GEN-XI, picked up.

"Yes, Gennie, what's up?"

"Gexie!" Gennie exclaimed, cuasing no small confusion to Robin Robinson, who watched while scratching her head. "Have you seen Clone Troopers on the march?"

"Now that you mention it, I have -- with this big burly Lizardman at their head!" Gexie said. "Why, wh-"

Gennie reached back, yanking the charge free and disconnecting herself from the magnificent electro-forum and all the dangers and promises it offered. She spun to Robin Robinson, her artificial heart in her throat, fear blazing in her eyes. "Zardo has come! His Clone Troopers...they're on their way down here! Right now! Four whole platoons of them!"

Robin wasted no time. She snatched up a rocket-bolt pistol, filled her mighty lungs, and bellowed: "Rebels! Freedom Fighters! To arms! To arms! TO ARMS!"

And with a clamor, the entire base burst into frenzied movement.

Robin tossed Gennie a rocket-bolt pistol, which hung heavy in her hand. Gennie exclaimed in shock and alarm: "I cannot harm anyone! Or allow, through inaction, anyone to come to harm!" As she spoke, rebel soldiers rushed in. Rocket bolt rifles and swords were drawn. Bayonets were fixed. Magazines were slapped into position. Grim faced commanders, who had long prepared for this very day, began to give orders to their troops. It seemed while the Underground had avoided a direct conflict for some time...they were not loath from fighting it when it came at last.

Robin stepped forward. Her palm cradled Gennie's cheek, and she spoke firmly. "All right lassie. Right now, two hundred clones are going to be bursting in here, to kill not only everyone here, but everyone in the whole underground. They're going to kill you and me and Mark..." She smiled, grimly. "So, by not killing them...you're letting far more people die, right?"

Gennie paused, trembling. Sparks hissed from her ears as her programming chewed on that same quandary, going through permutations and quandaries, and coming at last to the only decision she could make -- the same decision made by brave Frenchmen in the wilds of their conquered homeland, the decision made by heroic and stalwart men in the vastness of Russia who found their lands facing the terror of the Swastika, the same decision made by the Germans who were not blinded by the mustachioed megalomaniac who had taken sway of their once great nation.

The sparks stopped.

Gennie cocked the rocket-bolt pistol and nodded to Robin, and said, with a grin: "How about this for the fourth law of robotics: The only good fascist is a dead one!"

TO BE CONTINUED