Wild Space Pt. 03

Marik expected to be interrupted on his way to the first blue field he saw, but was pleasantly surprised. In the interior of the brothel, a woman who looked drugged out of her mind was snapping mindlessly along to the music. She was going for a shaved head but hadn't kept up for a few days: she was suffering from male pattern baldness. Her body was thin and fit but for a few waddles of loose skin she was trying to strategically cover. Typical lower level house, Marik, thought, and moved on.

He was stopped in six steps by a seedy looking man with wet black hair, back eyes, and pockmarks that carpet bombed his skin from receding hairline to chin.

"Looking for a good time, mister?"

"Whatever you're charging, its too much." Marik told the pimp before the man could explain. He decided to stop window shopping and head for the center of the District. He had a party to attend.

************'

The wedding went off with nary a hitch.

Lady Lex stood in her padded dress, so far removed from actual sensory perception that she may as well have been in VR. The only tactile response she was getting were here feet on the cathedral's stone floor. Very few women could naturally attain the plumpness that was ideal in a Valantier noblewoman, and being so skinny Lex felt absolutely trussed and stuffed. Luckily, she would be able to strip down before the reception.

Ehren was full of frowns, or would have been if he was allowing his brutal, rough face show any emotion. Lord Carsono and his husband, Rian, stood in the row behind them. Carsono, tall, olive skinned, dark eyed, with a precisely trimmed black beard, and a lithe, fit body. Rian was a touch more grizzled, with auburn ringlets that was echoed in his full beard, but still pretty. Both couples were pretending to ignore one another.

Up on the altar, the baroness stood below the engraved, faded stone visage of Ana the Sea Lioness, and her soon to be baron husband under the face of Ajax the Great. Seeing the two humans who had become gods always filled Lex with a sense of pride. Ana the Sea Lioness had driven the savages on Centralia back from the seas and their swamps, and was symbolized by the chained baton and became the patron of sailors. Ajax the Great had been a mighty imperial general, and had swept the lands clear with his scourge, and soldiers paid him homage. Together, they had ruled the very first empire on the homeworld, before Centralia's grasp had reached the stars.

The preacher invoked the name of both Ajax and Ana as the newly wedded couple was joined. A smattering of applause rose up from the assembled nobility in the cathedral.

Lex eyed up the young couple as they passed. May they find more happiness in marriage than she did in her's.

"Come my love," Ehren said in a ridiculously exaggerated voice, as Carsono could hear them. "Let us celebrate their new union."

"On my way, my lord," Lex returned with a bit more attitude than she intended. But she took Ehren's arm nonetheless.

At their words, Rian and Carsono snickered and casually left the cathedral. Ehren's groan of unhappiness made Lex roll her eyes.

It was going to be a *very* long night.

************

When Marik entered Club Universal, the darkness had seemed absolute. A single beaded doorway, not an automatic door. A rarity on Valantier. Then a man in a starry robe, a club employee, had asked him the password. Satisfied, the employee then handed him a visor with earphones. Marik had looked at the strange device and then the man in a quizzical way.

"First time?"

"Yeah. What do I do?"

"Put it on and have fun." The fellow was holding open a beaded curtain and beckoning him to enter.

Cogitating, Marik put on the headset. His eyes and ears were covered. Nothing. Then he stepped through the curtain and the darkness beyond.

The moment he passed over the threshold, the Club Universal filled him up with its sound, its lights. He felt the music enter his body completely, owning him, almost directing his movements. The club was thronged with people, all of them dancing like mad, making the movements of love, only clothed. A handful of lights flickered over the assembles clubbers on the dance floor: red, yellow, pink, white, blue. On either side of the club, a ramp lead up to two separate dance floors, the top of which was housed a plush, padded floor and sex furniture. The levels below it consisted of the bars and any other substances one wished to imbibe. Marik saw lights going off there, with so many different colors of smoke that it looked like a flaming rainbow. They were popping vibrants. His nose twitched in anticipation, and it was there he headed.

In passing, women reached out to him, and tried to stop him to talk. Marik simply brushed past, but indicated his interest by fondling a breast or a shoulder. More than a few men did, as well, and to them he gently pushed hands away but firmly shook his head. Men on Valantier was always up to that kind of thing, but luckily there were more than enough willing partners for that type of coupling. No one bothered him as he walked up the ramp, to the second level.

"You drinking, fellow?" A shirtless man from behind the bar shouted. His chest was smooth. He was very pale and muscular, like a statue.

"Whiskey cocktail. Imperial." As the bartender mixed his drink, Marik experimentally removed the goggles he had been given. The only thing being virtually projected was the lights. The drinks, the drugs, the people were all there. He moved his headphones off of his ears. The music disappeared. The entire club danced in silence. So that was how the Universal did it. It was a relatively cheap way to run a club, now that he thought about it, but more than passing strange if one wasn't participating. Also, how were they causing his body to vibrate as if the sound waves were really-

"Good choice. Why not, we're not paying." The bartender shouted as he handed over the glass, interrupting his thoughts.

"Lady has good taste. One hell of a reception," Marik shouted back.

The scent of vibrants tickled his nose. They came in different colors, and each color did something different. Green was for tranquility and made everything funny. It was also good for soothing deep pains. Red was for harnessing aggression, perfect for battle or sports. Brown was for numbness, or falling asleep. White for energy and euphoria. Yellow was for sex. Gray leveled off emotions and was used for anxiety. Black was a poison but a tiny bit could induce a coma. Purple allegedly granted psychic ability, but could have also been a simple hallucinogen. And so on.

A handful of men were popping reds, and Marik gave them a wide berth. There would likely be many fights tonight. Men here on Valantier or any Capital World were always fighting. He instead headed to the open air bins that housed the little vials. His fingers found a yellow vibrant: thumb sized tube of hard plastic with a cap one popped off under their nose.

"Whites go best with yellows," Said a woman with a smile who was reaching into the bin to withdraw those two colors herself. "Keeps you level but raring to go. Want to join me upstairs?"

"Be right behind you," He told her. Marik ran an appreciative eye over her. She was shorter than he, black, with short dark hair and wide brown eyes. Her lips were full and the contours of her face were highlighted with golden makeup and sparkles, the way clubgoers decorated themselves. She wore a gauzy white bodysuit, cinched here and there with golden thread. Her dark skin showed through the thin material, including her nipples, and the thick but neatly trimmed bush between her legs. Her shoes were open toed golden sandals, platforms, and she had similar gold thread through her hair. Marik, without even having sniffed his yellow vibrant, felt himself growing aroused. Eagerly, he followed her up the ramp, taking her hand when she offered it behind her.

They found a small couch that doubled as a sex ramp. She sat and patted the seat next to her. Marik sat and drank. Experly, she prepped her dose: barely popping the vap on the white with her thumb. Just a hint of ivory-colored light and smoke escaped, and she lowered her nose to huff it in. Her brown eyes rolled back into her head as if she had been pleasantly punched. It made her talkative.

"I wasn't even going to go out tonight! My name is Rita," The black woman shouted. "The wedding has got things really crazy tonight in here! Want me to whack you?"

"Sure. Call me Marik.'" He liked to pop a vibrant like anyone else, but he wasn't very good at it. He gladly handed her his white vial to make sure none was wasted. With a flick of her thumb, she had his open as small as physically possible, and brushed her fingers over his cheek and cupped his chin as he leaned down to snort.

The smoke shot up his nose and to his brain, starting at the olfactory receptor neurons, crossing the blood brain barrier and triggering the dopamine neurotransmitter. Marik felt himself awaken immediately, a rush of pleasure, and a smile spread over his face.

Smiling back, Rita kissed him. He was pleased to find that their lips fit together perfectly, and he deepened it. She pushed him away slightly.

"Let's dance first," She suggested. Her smile lit up their dark corner of the club. She sniffed a little more of the white and he did the same.

When they both came up for air Marik was feeling the beat in his bowels and on the soles of his feet, and every light tinkling note that interspaced the bass was driving him even more to the dance floor. They again joined hands and in the center of the gyrating, sweating dancers turned to face one another.

Marik's world shrank to only a close up view of the beautiful woman dancing with him, sensing her body, her eyes and her smile and expression that alternated between euphoria and arousal. Rita was a much better dancer than he: she planted her feet and waved her hands and arms sensually when the music was slow and swiveled her hips or twerked when the music sped up. Marik moved more instinctually, like an animal, letting the house music fill him up and jerk his limbs about in a sweaty, primal frenzy. Luckily, as in any club or rave, no one was looking at one another. All that mattered was the music, your partner, the pretty lights.

Whenever they would find their way to a couch or ramp they would kiss, each one threatening to spill over into more, only to subside into popping white vibrant. Then one would drag the other back to the dance floor. The cycle repeated itself seemingly dozens of times before the dances became shorter and shorter and the kissing and sniffing longer and longer.

Finally, Marik's long hair was drenched in sweat. He had long since removed his vest. Rita's thin white garment was absolutely clinging to her skin. When they next kissed his fingers found the golden bits of twine that bound the cloth to her, wanting to free her and explore. She helped him, and smiled and nuzzled his cheek when Marik buried his mouth in the nape of her neck. She leaned down to whisper to him.

"Let's pop yellow first." Rita was already hungrily sniffing the air in anticipation. Few things made one hornier or enjoy sex more than a yellow vibrant.

Marik's cock was rock hard in anticipation, and he was already fumbling at more ties on her clothes as she snorted the yellow smoke and the drugs took effect.

**********

"This is a bad idea," Lex was saying for perhaps the dozenth time.

"So you've been saying," Xandra rolled her eyes. "Ehren barely noticed you're gone. I wouldn't worry."

"Still, if he should find us..."

"I doubt it." Xandra's blue eyes raked over her lover. "This is our night. Not his."

Not for the first time, Lex was grateful that Ehren drank heavily when he was upstaged by his rivals. Two hours into the baroness's wedding reception, it was clear that Carsono had won whatever pointless macho flexing that was going on. He and Rian has danced elegantly and sweetly. In contrast, Ehren was all left feet on the dance floor, and Lex was less than enthusiastic about the dreary proceedings. Carsono had tore down the house with his toast. Ehren had fumbled his. After the two men had received a light round of applause after a particularly well danced song, Ehren had retreated to the bar. Lex had tried to comfort him but he had shaken her off, in front of the entire wedding.

Lex had been furious. She had truly hoped that Ehren would win whatever battle was going on with Carsono. The bit of alcohol she had drank, dressing up, the presence of so many nubile and young bodies. A big night out always made Lex horny. She would have given herself to him later, and gladly. But instead he had ruined it as he always had.

So she had decided to ruin his night by throwing a drink full in his face in front of the entire reception. Lord Ehren was too shocked and shamed by the laughter that followed to react. He had charged off to the washroom, followed by his closest attendants.

After that, it had only taken minimal prodding from Xandra to get her to go to the Club Universal to wait out their lord's temper. But now that they had snuck off and arrived, Lex worried that they had risked too much.

Her fears disappeared when they got into the club proper and donned their headsets. The women were overwhelmed with the vulgarity of the dancing, the casual sex and drugs. Nothing like this existed in their world. Their couplings were discrete. Their drug use was in private. And they certainly rarely moved or yelled with such joy.

"Come on!" Xandra took the smaller woman's hand and led them to the middle of the dance floor.

"What are you doing?!" The noblewoman wanted to know, trying to shrink back.

"We're conspicuous."

Lex had to admit that the other woman was correct. They had stripped off most of their fine garments and wore threadbare tops but flouncy skirts, and slippers. The foundational garments for a traditional Valantier noblewoman's outfit. She was worried that would be noticed, but then again none of the clubgoers were noticing anything but one another. A few were dressed even more outlandishly than they.

They danced, and Lex gave herself over to the music. Dances among the nobility had religious and cultural connotations and were full of steps and precise turns. This was something else, a mating ritual writ large. It took them both a handful of minutes, but they managed and were soon having a good a time as anyone else.

In between bouts of sweaty dancing and making out, Lex felt her nose being tickled by the scent of vibrants. She knew what they were, of course. Once, as girls, Lex and Xandra had snuck out of the villa and spent time sniffing a green vibrant with a friend, and laughing so hard tears streamed down their faces. Of course, her lady mother had caught them and punished them so severely that neither of them experimented again. The fact that the lady of the house drank enough wine to drown a fish didn't seem to matter. Feeling bold, Lex pulled her lover towards the bins full of tubes.

"I don't know. Should we?" Xandra was usually so confident that her question gave Lex pause.

"We're already shaking our asses at a club filled with commons," The noblewoman reasoned. "Might as well be high while we do it."

It was joke, but one with such ironclad logic that neither of them could dispute it. The act of rebellion should be wholly and complete. A night of music and drugs and soon sex while they dodged their ladylike responsibilities was in store.

Each woman hesitantly picked a random vial, popped it open entirely, and huffed like they had just resurfaced after a long and perilous dive. Brown for Xandra and yellow for Lex. Both of them popped open their vibrants and breathed the entire vial into their bodies in a mighty gust.

Before she could even exhale Lex knew that she had made a big mistake.

*************

Rita had fretted when his unskilled fingers began unraveling the golden wire that cinched her scant clothing to her sweaty skin. She stopped him and told him to get out of his clothing while she went about the task of delicately removing the sensitive bits of her costume.

Marik kicked off his sandals and slid off his pants. His skin was kissed with the cool air of the club. The yellow and white insured that his cock was rock hard, like an iron bar jutting from his crotch. Had she been so inclined, Rita could have done pull ups on it.

Instead, the elegant, long fingered woman took advantage of her seated position and stroked along his throbbing shaft. Marik shivered as the blasts of sound and light buffeted his naked body. She teased her fingers up and down the length of him while looking up at him coquettishly, submissively. He thrusted himself through her hand, causing her to smile and tighten her grip. While she unraveled her clothing with one hand, she nimbly pumped his member while he slowly pushed his hips forward in response. It was an awkward motion for her to maintain, and they both were happy when her skin tight gauzy white bodysuit finally fell away. Marik scooped her smaller form up by her armpits and laid her far back onto the couch. Her arms reached out for him and her legs spread. He knelt between her legs and Rita eagerly scooted forward, raising her hips slightly to receive him.

Marik balanced himself carefully over her, feeling the soft skin of her breasts press against his chest. The head of his cock glided against the soft, curly hairs between her legs, causing them both to shiver. Rita brushed his hair back from his eyes and raised her head for his kiss. He obliged her full lips of her mouth while maneuvering the spearhead of his member against the lips of her eager cunt. Marik felt her indrawn breath expel slowly as he penetrated her. Their kiss deepened. He slipped his arms underneath her shoulders, pressing her nude body against his, dug his feet into the couch, and, working with the heavy beat of the dance music that was rattling their bones, went to work.

Within a few seconds Rita's cries were heard only to him as they held one another in each other's arms and the legs of the couch scraped back and forth on the dance club floor. Marik's cock was surrounded by her warmth and wetness and a ceaseless, sweet pressure. She breathed and cried out loud enough to be heard over the music, her hands roaming down his back. Her skin felt hot, flushed from the drinks and drugs and dancing. Her mouth issued plaintive cries through their passionate kiss and her hips rose off of the bed in sync to meet his every thrust. The grace of her movements and the sensory overload he was experiencing almost drove him to the edge, and his own moans took on a more frantic and less controlled tone.

Rita was having none of it. With a few whispers, she bade him to lay on his back. As he did so and as she swung a slim leg over him to straddle, they both took a moment to catch their breath. His cock was still slick with her juices, gleaming and moistening her hand as she pumped him to make sure he was ready. Satisfied that he still was, Rita lowered her cunt onto him, causing both of them to hiss when the union was made, and rode him to the beat of the music.

She moved her hips as she fucked him just as fluidly as she had when they had danced. Her ass was big and round enough to audibly clap, should anyone be close enough to it to listen. Marik's hands immediately went to her breasts, which were soft and natural and full. Rita sighed in pleasure and tilted her head back as his hands roughly massaged her body.

She was done with preliminaries and drawing out the moment. She wanted his cum and would not be denied. Rita braced herself by putting each hand on his thigh, leaning back and using all of her strength to rock forward, using her lower back for extra leverage. The lights flashed over her as she fucked him. Marik felt his climax building, a powerful sensation originating in his thighs and pelvis and asshole. He experienced another head rush from the white and yellow, a nodding of the head and widening of the eyes, a gasp and a strong pulse through his cock, and finally the climax ripped through him in. Marik's hips shot off of the couch, nearly lifting her into the air, triggering her own orgasm. Rita flailed atop of him with the force of it, enhanced by the yellow vibrant, and finally slumped atop of him, both of them sweating profusely, breath chugging in a loud arrhythmic pattern, each relishing the pleasant head rush and the remainder of the substances coursing their through systems.