The Pasture in Space - Revolution

Because through their mind, she knew the warm massage of her own pussy, the tight, restrictive squeeze of her rosebud, the tender, deliberate flicks of her tongue around the gap in his cock. Tara knew the effort it took to hold back inside of her, to keep stroking inside of her even as everything inside of them signaled the need to ejaculate. She had experienced the building up in their bulging balls. And the all too tantalizing sensation the point of no return, where the expulsion of their seed became inevitable.

From inside her body, and inside their head, she could sense each penis as it slowed, feeling the seed shooting out and into her. Each head continued to twitch, sending out diminishing streams of fluid. She shook a little, her body twisting, her face contorted with pleasure as the three nearly came to a stop inside of her. Then one last final motion as they eked out a little more pleasure, milking out the last few drops of semen and pleasure from her overjoyed body.

She could taste the sweet, salty cum in her mouth, gulping it down, just as she knew the over sensitive head, the need for him to withdraw after that final twitch against her tongue. She perceived how her asshole now clamped down on the deflating dick inside, opening up to allow her lover to leave with an audible pop.

Aiden need one or two more strokes before the last few embers extinguished.

And Gwendolyn knew it was always like this. Perfectly pleasurable, leaving Tara almost immediately satisfied. Her body absorbed just enough of the semen so that Tara could savor it, enjoying the sloshing, full feeling as she went to aid in another woman's pleasure. As another man and woman coupled together, Tara moved to lick her pussy, seamlessly focusing the desires of the next.

The night continued this way, indiscriminate of gender or boundaries, each body intermingling, appreciating the other without judgement or jealousy. Each man drew from the passion of the entire galaxy, able to climax as many times as needed for their partner, swapping semen and satisfaction until the seven partners collapsed on the floor together, completed.

She rested on the floor for a few hours, only to be startled awake, the news traveling instantly from the far reaches of space.

14

"I want to be there," Tara said.

"You will be," Aiden said, not wanting to rehash the same argument.

"No, I want to be really there. Not watching through someone else," Tara said.

"Where lies your distinction?" Aiden said, echoing the sentiments of most of the galaxy.

Able to access anything, anywhere, many contented themselves with the same repetitive experience. Humans provided the most good according to their natural abilities and inclinations, each contributing to a specific need of the collective. These formed particular cliques called cetes, collaborative enterprises that fulfilled the wants of the large community. In this way, a person became a droplet, combining with another and another to form a vast, limitless ocean, a reservoir of knowledge, experience, and power.

Aiden and their cete focused much of their attention on pleasure. It was a task that suited them. Though as the man aged, he found himself drawn to studies of humanity. This was no issue. Men and women could regularly be rotated out of cetes, or even live in isolation, should they chose.

No one was ever forced to do anything.

The elder faced a dilemma. Tara's desire to see the arrival existed down deep in the core of her being. Emotions might be nudged through telepathy, but to do more threatened the well-being of the individual. Provoking a fight over wills could easily destroy the individual, creating a husk in human form.

Tara need convincing.

"In all the millennia we have known, there has never been a visitor from beyond the Milky Way," Aiden said. "You have watched the ship approach from Andromeda. We are still working on the technology to make intergalactic hyperjumps possible. Whatever comes through the void must be much more advanced than we are."

"That's part of the reason I want to see," Tara said.

"It may be dangerous," Aiden said. "It is best to leave this to our designated ambassadors."

"They can do the talking," Tara said, "I only want to see."

"Consider this carefully. Will that be enough for you? Will not your own headstrong passion push your curiosity further? Would it not be better to filter these thoughts through another rather than acting rashly."

"I know the collective is against me going," Tara said.

"Then do you finally see reason?"

"No," Tara said. "Unless you create a barrier, I will be at the landing."

Aiden let out a sigh.

"You already know in that case, I'm instructed to accompany you."

"Don't look so glum, it'll be fun!"

"It's dangerous," Aiden said.

"That's why it's fun."

A few hours later, Tara and the delegates stared into the sky, knowing through precognition the exact coordinates of the alien starship, and still unable to control the basic impulse to watch. Disc like, shining its silver rays against the sun, the alien craft descended unlike the bulky and elongated tube-like ships common in the galaxy. The flying saucer hoovered, spinning around to maintain its center of gravity, descending slowly to avoid the atmospheric friction.

"It doesn't appear to have an adequate heat shield," Aiden conveyed the scientific consensus. "Perhaps the race is not as far along as we assumed."

It took several hours for the craft to land, a spectacle that led many to deride the inefficiency of a craft that could bound to other galaxies and yet took the better part of a day to land. Others began instantly to theorize. Perhaps this indicated a different sort of atmosphere outside the Milky Way. Or maybe the very structure that allowed seamless intergalactic hyperjumps made planetside travel difficult.

For the first time in countless generations, scientists would have to ask.

A ramp lowered down, a doorless black gap opening simultaneously.

There the alien appeared.

He stood on the rampart, a centaur-like creature, with four legs not unlike a horse. The purple shaded fur gave way to rough, black hooves. From the front of his first two legs extended up a well-defined, muscular torso, with attached arms, almost humanoid.

His face departed from the normal look of a human, resembling to some an upside down triangle. He had a small, understated mouth, a distinctively hooked nose, but no ears. Out of either side of his head grew twin horns, appearing deadly sharp. His eyes were large, jet black, unblinkly, observing the orderly crowd of scientists in front of him.

The collective assumed it to be a him due to the large, pendulous penis swinging down between the alien's hindquarters. Even flaccid, the thing appeared to measure a meter in length, accentuated by a curvilinear bulge for the tip. Barely hidden behind this massive phallus were bulging testicles, combined in a sack, together the size and shape of a peach.

The member swung back and forth as the ramp moved the alien down without him needing to even move his thick legs. He simply stood, regal, magnificent, conveying his powerful presence as the ambassador went to meet him.

My father.

"Welcome to the planet Sayshell," the white hair dignitary stated as his hooves touched the ground. "We are but one of many in a collective of planets, all representing the human race."

The alien made no response, looking down at the man. Comparing the two, it was clear that the centaur was nearly eight foot tall, an imposing figure. It didn't speak; instead the voice reverberated inside the head of all present, a telepathic yell. The thoughts came out not quite in the same language, yet Tara's brain found herself able to effortlessly translate the sentence.

I come in peace.

15

His lips did not move, neither did he respond to any of the dialogue offered. It took a moment, but soon the dignitaries began conducting the diplomatic necessities through telepathy. The human collective heard the alien speak in their head all at once, relieved at two things:

The alien came in peace, a refugee, the last of his kind.

And he offered to share his technology in exchange for the sanctuary they offered freely.

Tara became almost bored at this exchange, which quickly turned into a quid pro quo negotiation of terms. She could care less about the engine of the ship. Tara wanted to speak to the alien. It was all she could do to keep her thoughts from projecting their way across the field.

More than anything, she wanted to know the alien's name. How could it be that such an advanced culture could completely forget the individuality of this sole survivor? Through her collective connection, she sent out the message, only to the collective, not wanting to offend the diplomats or the traveler.

I am called Thonon.

Her thoughts barely registered the message. There was no distinction for a private telepathic communication. Their intimate connection meant that sharing something with one person made the entire galaxy aware. Yet the purple face turned, looking directly at her, its eyes awaiting an answer as the other conversation droned on in the background.

Are you, are you communicating with me?

Yes. Only to you.

Gasping at the almost heretical idea, she fell back on an old adage.

Humanity is one with the galaxy. All is shared, all are spared, the way prepared.

She paused, realizing how utterly ridiculous the childhood rhyme must seem to this strange otherworldly being.

I'm sorry, I just mean we share everything.

Your species practices a somewhat rudimentary form of telepathic transmission. Easy to circumvent. Easy to test, ask the others my name.

She tried, finding the only response irritation at being distracted from the more pressing issues.

So, we're alone. She thought.

In my culture, a high value is placed on private thoughts. Centuries of mental conflict allows my species more control over our minds. If it makes you uncomfortable, I will remove the barrier and our conversation can be shared with the collective.

No!

She almost shouted.

Did the alien smile?

That is pleasing. I cannot connect with every member of your collective. Too tasking, it would stretch my mind across the galaxy. Even then, what to gain? What I wish to know of many, one can tell me. What I wish to know of one, only you can tell me.

Me?

Of all your species, you were the one who wished to be here for no other reason than to see me through your own eyes. I could hear you, pleading the elders to ask my name.

What could you want to know about me?

Everything...

*****

"You are going to see him again?" Aiden said.

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?" Tara responded. "Does it make you feel superior?"

Another argument, another strain tearing apart the fabric of her cete.

They had not all coupled together in over a week.

"You know why we ask," Aiden said.

She left in a huff.

Though everything was done on behalf of the whole, there maintained a small sense of individualism, one which grew in Tara by the day. Already eccentric and hard-headed, the time she spent with the alien Thonon created a massive stir among the collective, as it quickly became known that her long talks with the visitor were inaccessible to their communal consciousness.

There were many with higher levels of authority who wished to use Tara as a spy. The more suspiciously minded members already called for an expulsion of the extra-terrestrial. These found his ability to censor thoughts deeply unsettling. This extreme fringe, quieted by the more cautious majority, publicly questioned the reasons behind Thonon's landing. These wondered if in an act of deception, he would reach out and herald a new invasion.

Tara threatened to ignite these factions, for the first time in remembered history tearing apart the harmonious unity of humankind. Some considered her a traitor, others a useful ambassador. But everyone in the galaxy watched the two together, wondering what they talked about as the beautiful brunette girl rode on the massive back of the centaur along the beach.

For the first time in eons, humanity became obsessively curious to an unanswerable question.

And it tore at their view of the universe.

Thonon barely registered the weight of Tara's fifty kilogram body as he ran along the white shore of the beach. Nor did he believe the position subservient. If anything he considered humans feeble and frail, needing to be carried to travel over long distances. The wind, imbued with the salt-water from the sea, swept over Tara face, pushing back her auburn hair as her lips spread into a smile. She tasted the ocean, laughing as she spread her arms, trusting Thonon to hold her in position.

At speeds sometimes reaching as much as 40 kilometers per hour, the centaur seemed overly sensitive to the need to protect Tara. But conditioned to a life free from fear, where impossible tasks were so common as to be ignored in favor of more expedient methods, Tara let herself go.

These moments with Thonon made her free. She never knew what he would say, what would happen during the day, or how everyone else would respond. And that made Tara begin to feel something special for Thonon, an overwhelming sense of affection she wasn't quite sure how to articulate. Rippling with muscles, with a nearly humanoid face, there was more than enough to get her going.

Not to mention that oversized penis hanging between his legs.

But she didn't know how such a coupling would work, or even if it could.

Something about that made her want him more. The idea of being rejected, the potential impossibility of their pairing, the forbidden nature of their partnership; it all combined to create a completely new feeling, a nervous sort of joy that danced around her stomach.

Building desire, lust, and a crushing sense of loneliness when he wasn't around, the exuberant rush of alleviation when he appeared; these were all new to her. All overwhelming. And yet, her every waking moment was consumed with him. The way he understood her, even without needing to read her mind. The way he cared for her, without condescending. They way he instinctively saw her not as one cell of a species, but as a distinct, autonomous creature.

She also tended to ride him naked. It seemed too awkward for her to clothe herself, the idea of covering completely foreign to the alien. So as she bounced up and down the beach, his hands holding her, on occasion the lips of her pussy rubbed delicately against his soft purple fur, making her wonder what it would be like to know him better. It had been an obsession growing in her mind, and she wondered how much he knew of her budding urges. Though clairvoyant, Thonan practiced a clear code of ethics, respecting her privacy, or at least keeping what he did known to himself.

Stop here!

They stopped by large rock wall, almost like a cave. His strong hands pulled her down from his back, setting her gently on the ground. She lay down, giggling, the sun shining down on her bare body.

What is special about this place?

Sometimes she communicated certain feelings accidentally, allowing him to naturally ask just the right question. He could have dove into her mind to the answer, but he preferred to hear her speak. Of course, physically his species had no ability to actually hear anything. But focused on just her, Thonon had learned to understand her thoughts just as naturally when poured from her mouth.

"When I was younger, I used to ride my hovercycle out here," Tara said. "I used to think that if I hid in the cave, I could really be alone."

I don't understand. You were still connected to the collective.

"I was a little though, barely more than 5," Tara said. "Even with everyone else rattling around in here, for a kid, there's still a sense of imagination and wonder. A kind of independence from your own inability to understand everyone - I'm not making sense."

No.

He was unable to gild any lily.

"You don't have babies where you come from?"

Her brain related an image to go along with her words.

A larval stage.

"No! Babies silly! They are still people! Just not all the way grown," Tara said. "How do your people do things anyway?"

Sexual reproduction occurs very similarly to humans. Male and female.

"But you are the last, how will you?"

It is painful. But there are alternatives.

"Alternatives?"

Our Genomes make the process viable, with medical care.

"That's why you're really here..." She said slowly. "To save your species."

No. A new species, selected from the most desirable genes.

"Is that what I am then?" She couldn't help but feel indignant. "I am just breeding stock for you?"

I do not understand. In your community, does one not court the best specimen?

"No! Well, yes! I mean, maybe once people just had sex to have babies. But now, we only get pregnant on purpose, when it is decided. Nearly all of our sex is recreational."

Recreational?

"For fun! Because it feels good! Because you like someone and what to show it!"

She turned away from him, starting to sob. Maybe it was ridiculous, expecting the same sort of ritualized performance from a beast. Only Thonon seemed to know he had made a mistake. He lowered himself, almost kneeling to stretch out an arm around her shoulders. She resisted, only a little, only at first. Then Tara stood up, allowing him to easily hold her against his massive chest.

I like you.

"You aren't just using me?" She said.

No. I would not use you.

"Not even to save your species?"

It is too late for them.

"You know what I mean!"

Not even to procreate. You must understand Tara, my kind does not mate to amuse ourselves. Unless infertile, mating always ends in offspring."

"And they are born just like you, all grown up?"

No. There is a cycle.

"A cycle?"

Long ago, we were two species. We evolved together. Until the plague, we were like your bees, our children the flowers. Of the coupling, a seed is born, planted in the soil. Of the seed countless pistils and stamens sprout. Combining with our bodies, the planted organism reproduces more beings like us, so that we may travel, spreading our seeds throughout a planet. In my galaxy, planets were filled with these flowers."

"Flowers? You want to make a flower with me?"

The best comparison to life in the Milky Way, but different. Our children are more alive. They grow. They think. They communicate in the same way.

"And you have sex with them? With your children?"

Every being is a child of someone. We do not narrow our gene pool, if I gather the meaning.

"But with a flower? A pistil? A stamen?"

It is pleasurable. Again, these ideas are for your understanding. The flowers creates many shapes.

"So let me get this right... if we fuck, I am going to give birth to an alien flower, which will then need to fuck another woman to give birth to the next generation of your race."

A hybrid. A mixture of us.

"Okay," Tara said. "I'll do it."

Do not decide yet. Think about it. I do not want to compel you.

16

A week did little to change her mind. Gwendolyn saw the two fall completely in love. Tara taught the alien more and more of their ways. Thonon remained tight lipped over the end of his species, refusing to give much of an account of the innumerable dead. But there were other things he explained easily.