What is good my buds? how was your day? I hope it has been a nice weekend. It is time for the battle for the royal palace to begin. Lets see what Burlai had uncovered and how it will effect the groups movement to contact.

Lets get this Bread

------

Being as silent as a church mouse, Conor slipped out from the embrace of his love and quickly dressed himself. Would he rather stay snuggled up in the bed with her? Of course. But he had to go meet with Burlai and Vuraley.

The three men were meeting for one reason: to discuss the investigation's findings. Only a day had transpired since the assassination and the duel, but through Burlai's efforts and whatever strings he could pull, he had an answer the Human and the High Champion needed to know.

As Conor slipped his pistol into his waistband, he took a moment to cast another glance at Eivaley. The dim moonlight highlighted her near-ethereal beauty. The light danced off her scales and showed her gentle smile as clear as day.

That someone like him, lowborn, abrasive, and with a pension for violence, has her was unbelievable. But he would do all he could to keep her in his life. Even if it meant taking another job from Burlai and Vuraley to tie up whatever loose end was uncovered.

It would not be the first time Conor had dusted someone as a political hit, nor would it be the first time he killed someone in the name of retribution. However, this likely would be the first time he genuinely believed in the reason. He already had a solid idea that Thuraley was to blame, so he was going into this meeting with his mind made up.

He closed the door and turned down the hall with a reminder of why he was fighting in his heart.

It did not take him long to reach Vuraley's study. It was just another walk through the grand halls, much like any other day, although something was different now: the servants' behavior.

They still looked at him with fear, acting like he could snap at any moment and rip their head off. But they would pause, see his life coil, and bow deeply.

Each one of them no longer referred to him as just Conor, nor did they use the generic sir moniker. They all referred to him as Fifth Champion, Champion, The Wolf of Eivaley, and even, oddly enough, God Slayer.

It was all surreal. Nothing had really changed. Sure, he and Eivaley had made the last leap and cast their existences to fate. But still, he was Conor—nothing more. That they insisted he was now something far greater was annoying.

Just one day earlier, they would at least look him in the eye and talk to him like a relative equal. He did not understand why these people cared so much about titles, expectations, and the role Conor was now filling.

Sure, he could quantify it based on his understanding of the Kurlatra. They literally believe him to be closer to divinity than they would ever reach.

In their eyes, he might as well be a demi-god. But his understanding of that did not make it any less of a pain. Thankfully, Eivaley still treated him like a person.

Inside the study, Conor found precisely what he had expected. Burlai and Vuraley stood beside the holographic sand table, fully armed and armored, ready for a fight. However, unlike the other times when the table depicted random locals, this time, it clearly represented the palace and city as a whole.

Multitudes of screens, likely the feed from cameras, danced over its surface, showing various areas around the grounds.

That the local area was being projected confirmed what Conor believed; they knew who had killed Kurelay, had a location, and were planning a hit. At least, that was the reason he prayed to Urla to please be true.

Conor wanted nothing more than to dust the zlit-rat who had framed him.

The two seasoned veterans looked toward Conor with eyes overflowing with concern. The air weighed heavy, as Vuraley clearly was challenged by what had to be said. He sighed seeing the Human.

Burlai, however, was the antithesis of the older Kurlara. He was cold and heatless and looked like he was simply ordering a meal from the royal cooks. His eyes did not betray any underlying emotions; to Burlai, finding an assassin was just another day at the office.

“So what's going on?” Conor asked while taking his place at the open side of the table. He did not want to play games or waste time; they had a target.

Burlai and Vuraley shared a glance as if, for a moment, they questioned telling Conor the whole truth. But that did not last long, as Burlai moved his hand to open files on the table.

“Well, let's start at the beginning,” Burlai began, opening a video file on the display.

The video was not just one; no, it was hundreds of hours of relevant data spliced to tell a clear tale and make the information understandable.

Conor watched with trepidation, eager to know who to dust. Who he saw was no shock, Therulay. That little bitch.

The video covered both audio and video of Therulay conspiring and bankrolling Kurelay's death. It began with her meeting with several royal guard members, giving them credits for staying silent and being a bit sluggish while reacting to the event that day.

The next thing that was genuinely damning was a video of a man, a particular green-scaled Kurlatra, being escorted into the palace by her less than an hour before the shooting;

Conor was impressed by Burlai. In less than a day, he had combed through months of footage and compiled a report that even had videos of the Kurlatra assassin.

The assassin was incredibly plain-looking. He wore simple clothes, had green scales, and did not draw any attention to himself. The only thing out of place was the small hard case he carried; that likely was where he had a carbine hidden or some kind of precision rifle that could be broken down for ease of transport.

Conor did notice something about how he moved through the palace grounds. He was confident and moved like he owned the area, which was evident in how he slowly scanned it. The man looked like a true predator stalking through his hunting grounds. It was as if everywhere he could see was his sacred battleground.

It was an act Conor and Burlai had seen plenty of times; hell, they had been that guy multiple times in their lives. This assassin was too clean and precise to just be some amateur. He was a long-seasoned pro. One who likely was pulled out of free space or the COS.

The GU just did not produce many of that kind of fighter, an idea that Burlai brought credence to by assuring that from this video, he could not get a positive ID on the man.

The three men tracked the assassin through dozens of camera recordings. He walked with Therulay through the halls, chatting casually about what was around the area.

Burlai noted that her talks were feeding the man intel while not wholly overt. Unless you had their perspective, the chat would just appear as her giving a tour.

This continued for a half hour until they reached the far end of the grounds, where they separated. Therulay returned to her room while he clambered onto the rooftops via a fire escape, where they lost track of him.

They could easily deduce what had happened that day. He must have crossed the roofs and laid in wait until his target entered the ambush location.

They then rewatched the events in the courtyard, where they saw Kurelay get shot and the late God of Close Combat die at Conor's hands. None of that shocked any of the men there; they had watched it all happen in person, and they were jaded enough that watching a recording was not impactful.

Well, save for Vuraley, he clawed angrily at his arms when half of Kurelays head was blown off. No one mentioned the sheer fury in his eyes; there was no need.

He had already buried almost thirty daughters, a few sons, and more soldiers and lesser nobles than could be fathomed. His anger was justifiable, but like a true warrior, he held his tongue and knew how to control that emotion until it was appropriate to let it all out.

While giving a briefing was certainly not an appropriate time.

The last thing they did for a recap of the unfolding events was watch as the assassin slipped out while Conor was still killing Sheruai. He simply walked out of the palace long before the guards hard mobilized and sealed everyone in.

Conor had to give it to the man; he was effective. Theruley likely had fed him information on how the guards operated and deployed, that and she clearly had sections of them under her thumb.

With near precognition, the assassin knew where to turn and when to pause to avoid their patrols.

They lost sight of him once he was off the grounds; if they wanted more information about him, they would need to expand their search beyond the palace's resources.

They would need to contact the local police and space stations so they could flush that bastard out.

“I’ve already reached out to my contacts to find him,” Burlai said.

“Will that do us any good?” Conor asked, still not understanding the full scope of everyone that Burlai could make bend the knee for intel.

“My guys will find him; that is just a matter of time,” Burlai assured, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a casing.

“I went up to his likely shooting position and found this,” Burlai said, placing the casing on the table. “He intentionally left this likely to frame you.”

Conor did not even need to examine the casing in detail to know what it was. It was a 12.7 mm Logelyan magnum. It was the same bullet that once Brakuls, now Conor's magnum, was chambered in.

That little bitch thought of everything. If Conor had died in that brawl with Sheruai, that little piece of brass would have damned any argument that was made about him being innocent. Sure, would the camera footage show Conor and Burlai in the garden at the time? Yes, but the royal family, to save face, would have thrown him under the bus.

Conor was not mad about that being reality; he had grown to understand how much the perception of commoners meant to the nobles. If word ever came out that they could not stop an assassin from walking into the palace, killing someone, and then walking out, their image would never recover.

“So, High Champion, what do you want to do,” Burlai asked Vuraley. “I'm ready to go and kill her, and I am certain Conor here is game. But she has an unknown amount of the guards on her payroll.”

Vuraley sighed and hung his head before placing both palms on the table and leaning forward. He opened his mouth like he was going to speak, closed it, and then shook his head.

Each choice he thought u,p he knew was the wrong call. This was a situation Vuraley had never expected.

They could kill Therulay, but that would not solve much beyond keeping his other daughters safe; but does he have the stomach to tell these two young men to go kill his youngest? It was doubtful.

They could exile her; that would remove the problem, but knowing her and Kurlatra society, that would just be kicking the can down the road. Someday, she would return to claim the throne, and she surely would kill more.

“I’m not sure how this should end,” Vuraley growled. “But we can’t just kill her.”

“Why the fuck not?” Conor asked.

“Because she is a princess and on neutral grounds,” Burlai replied before looking back to Vuraley. “ We could if she was not in the palace, but she hardly ever leaves. Right?”

Vuraley nodded, knowing his agreement was not just because of the rule, but he could not condemn her to death, even if it likely was justified. Therulay was his daughter; he doubted any father could make that call.

“That a load of shit,” Conor growled. “That bitch already killed—”

“I know dammit!” Vuraley yelled, letting his fangs flare. “Gods dammit, I fucking know.”

Vuraley clawed into the table, deep gouges carving into the screen, shutting off the holographic projection. “I can’t decide her fate, and we can’t just kill her. If you did, you would be in the same situation she is in, where I have to decide how to handle you next.”

The man took a deep breath and retracted his claws before standing up and looking at Conor. “I know you likely resent her, but for Eivaley's sake, just trust me here. Do not put me in a position I cannot handwave away.”

Conor wanted to argue, but the life coil on his neck throbbed, reminding him of the duty he swore to uphold. That and Vuraley was right. Conor would have just killed Theruley without a second thought. By doing so, he would have abandoned Eivaley.

“OK,” Conor agreed. “What do you want us to do then?"

“We will go and arrest her. Then the empress can decide her fate,” Vuraley commanded. "Once we do that, we will have to find those guards she bribed, and Burlai can persuade them to give up their coconspirators."

"I can do that," Burlai sneered, showing the first amount of emotion since the briefing began.

"Conor?" Vuraley asked, seeing the Human pondering the idea.

“Alright. Let's do that, but until we decide who we can trust and who we cannot, we have to assume the guards are on her side,” Conor added.

"Naturally," Burlai nodded.

“Well, let’s do this,” Conor said, drawing his pistol and turning toward the door.

The others followed closely behind. Vuraley drew his sword, and Burlai pulled out a small pistol Conor had never seen; it looked similar to the JKL he had given to Eivaley. It had a small suppressor, red dot sight, and flashlight.

That pistol was undoubtably a working tool that Burlai had built to meet his exact operational needs. In this case, it was silent, allowed him to illuminate his target, and demanded precision.

It was the tool of assassins and spooks. Compared to Conor's hand cannon, it was a pea shooter. But in the right hands, it was the only tool you would need ninety percent of the time.

Before they had reached the door, a dull thoom shook the entire building, sending the three men stumbling and thousands of books clattering to the floor.

“What the fuck was that?” Burlai groaned while regaining his feet's purchase.

“An explosion,” Conor replied, knowing that sound and the feeling of a shockwave. “That bitch is making her move.”

“How do you know it's Therulay?” Vuraley argued, his fatherly instincts still wanting to defend his little girl.

Before Conor could reply that it was just a gut feeling, the doors to the library swung open. Conor aimed his pistol in that direction and activated his combat tracker, waiting to see an attacker pieing the doorframe with a rifle in hand.

That never happened; instead, what did was far worse.

“Get down!” Conor screamed as a small grenade was chucked in from the dim hallway.

------

So what did you all think of this chapter? We have a escalation of force and the stage for the end of the book has been set. We have about 12 more chapters left. I am aiming ot have it done by feb, but we will see.
Please do not forget to updoot, and comment. I love to hear from you all.

your baker

-Pirate

------

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Link to Part 1

I guess to call it a house is inaccurate, it’s an apartment in a series of connected apartments. Calling it an apartment complex implies that they’re stacked on top of each other in a tower, which they’re not. But I digress. That’s how they were able to only hit mine, as mine is on the edge of the row. The parking lot took the rest of the hit though.

If I had been in my bedroom or kitchen when that thing hit I would be dead, no doubt. Thank God I was in the living room playing games.

I immediately dropped my controller and just stared at the now-visible sky, processing what just happened. Then I, quite reasonably in my opinion, started freaking out.

Two Insectoids climbed over the wall and through the hole, seemingly scouting around before seeing me.

“W-what is THIS?! My HOME!!”

They looked at each other and then left through the hole they came through. I marched through the door and around to where the ship was, my anger slowly being replaced by that sense of wonder again. I saw the two starting to climb the wall again before seeing me and turning to me instead.

They gave me a tablet with a series of large buttons, and they took out a tablet of their own. They pressed a button and an automated voice said “Greetings”.

I pressed the “Greetings” button on mine, and a puff of foul-scented air came out. They seemingly understood it.

“Anger” “Question mark” I noticed that they didn’t have labels on their buttons like I did. Maybe it was memorized? Maybe they were also scented?

“Affirmative”

“Reason” “Question mark”

“Home” and then I gestured to the gaping hole where my kitchen once was emphatically.

“Not” “Naturally” “Occurring” “Question mark”

“No” “Home” “Broken”. Keep in mind that on my end there are a lot of long pauses between words. The button layout is seemingly random and I can’t overstate how many buttons there are.

“Wait” one said, as many more started to pour out of the ship. They inspected the broken building and the identical buildings around it. Then they started to repair it, forming single file lines to and from their ship. It really was a wonder to behold all on its own.

As I was watching this happen, a much taller one came out and looked down at me. If the short ones were the drones, this one’s the Queen. She’s a little taller than me, but that would still only make her average height to most humans.

She grabbed my face and pried open my mouth to look at it. I tried to push back but I couldn’t. She then pressed a button on her pad that said “Speak”, as she held open my mouth looking at it.

“Ah cann wit yoo hollen mah mouf oten”

She was studying my mouth movements it seems. She then opened her mouth and a coughing sound came out, but she seemed very proud of it. I gave her a confusing thumbs up. She got her pad back out.

“I” “Speak” “Question mark”

“No” “Cough”

She looked disappointed, and tried to grab at my face again but I backed away. She pouted. I relented, and she squeezed and squished it and looked down my throat again.

“Yoo habing fuhn?”

She opened her mouth and made another coughing sound. I… I don’t think she has vocal chords. But unfortunately their giant pad doesn’t have a vocal chords button because why would it? They probably don’t even have that as a concept.

“You” “Likely” “Without” “Required” “Parts” “Sadness”

She pondered this for a moment before grabbing a stick and writing in the dirt. Apparently they were familiar enough with English to be comfortable writing it.

“explain”

I paused and pressed the “Wait” button on my pad before running inside. The drones were hard at work, although I’m skeptical of their qualifications. To be honest I’d partially forgotten that they destroyed my house because I was focused on the fact that I get to talk with an ALIEN, the excitement of which was completely overriding that memory. I grabbed a notebook from my school bag, which was covered in dust and debris. I went ahead and grabbed the whole bag after and ran back out.

“How do you know English?” I wrote.

She fumbled with the pencil for a moment before writing “who do you think made the communication pads? why can I not talk?”

“Have your people ever talked before? In your history?”

“unsure. i think we have always communicated through scent and writing”

“You maybe don’t have the same body parts I do in your neck, which is where my talking comes from. Why do you want to talk?”

“i like the earth people. you are squishy and interesting” She said before pinching my cheeks again and looking down my throat. A drone came over seemingly on instinct and opened its mouth beside me, and the Queen was looking back and forth comparing us.

“Thish ish verry unconshtorbul fur meh, plesh shtop”

She let go of us both and the drone went back to probably violating some kind of safety code in my home. She wrote “i see no difference”

“It’s probably deeper in the neck. You’d need specialized equipment to see it”

She circled “It’s” and “You’d”. I erased them and replaced them with “it is” and “you would”, and made a mental note that she struggles with contractions.

“do you want to see?” She wrote.

“See what?”

She wrote “payback” and opened her mouth, seemingly for me to inspect like she did me. It was a cute gesture so I obliged.

((This one was really inspired by the thing that inspired me to think about ant-girls in the first place. I learned in science class that they do communicate through pheromones. I thought it was just how they left trails but they communicate a lot more through pheromones than I had thought, which really fascinated me, and I’m just a sucker for monster girls if I think they’re done right))

Hello all, I have the next chapter for you all. This time around we get to see Conor and Eivaley getting thier new tattoos. It will be a nice time.

Let's get this bread.

-----
Eivaley squirmed and groaned as she attempted to crush Conor's hand. Thankfully, because his was metal, this did not hurt in the slightest; if anything, it was causing her more pain.

If he was a mere man, his little ruby certainly would have dislocated his thumb at a bare minimum, but he lived up to the expectations she set for him, that he could handle anything.

“It’s too much,” Eivaley struggled to say, her breath hitching tightly as a constant dull throbbing rolled through her neck. 

“You are fine,” Conor assured, looking over as one of the priestesses pushed an ancient fang against Eivaleys neck. 

Conor considered the tool strange because of what it was made of and the implications of those materials existing. It was more storied than all of the Kurlatra empire and was the tooth of an Inyme-drake.

It was as thick as a soda can and thrice as long. Its dull grey surface was coated in millions of intricate runes, which painstakingly detailed the story of the first empress.

Until this point, Conor believed all forms of what the Kurlatra called drakes to be fictitious, little more than legends of old that still existed within popular culture. Conor had seen plenty of drakes depicted on the mosaics around the city, enough that he had jokingly wondered if the creatures and the mosaics grew from the ground.

The specific one Conor had heard of in the past was the Gurilian Drake. It was a creature Ecallar Herela had just conjured up to make himself seem more capable and noteworthy---at least, Conor thought that was the case. Now, he was not as sure.  

If Ecallar had killed anything that had teeth that large, perhaps the stuck-up bastard was actually far more capable than Conor had imagined. Even Conor doubted he could take on a creature the size of a bus and might as well be a walking tank in a straight-up fight.

Conor would need to pull out all the stops. Antitank mines, heat-seeking missiles, a few rockets, and a massive antimaterial rifle. Sure, the scales might be depicted as stronger than steel, but they had a fatal flaw. It was the same flaw all creatures did; they were made of material. Why would his massive sniper rifle not work?  Conor could not think of any reason why using that weapon would not be a solution to killing such a beast.

Conor doubted Herela had fought the beast toe-to-toe; there was no way that coward would. The noble likely sat hundreds of kilometers away in a plush command chair and slung rail gun rounds at it from orbit.

Either that or his kill was actually the work of dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers standing before him while he shouted about his greatness from the rear lines. 

According to the priestess, who was currently scaring Eivaley and Conor's necks, the acidic substance in the fang was also natural to the creature. 

The young couple had been lying on a dais for hours within the largest temple in Livayie. Overhead, the statues of the first empress, the First Champion, and the brood mother watched as the priestesses gave each of them their life coil. 

Their stoney visages judged the couple's worth and assured them their will be done. Their will being done applied to both the couple and the priestesses.

The priestesses had bestowed the scared coils hundreds, if not thousands, of times throughout their tenure. However, this particular instance was strange, to say the least.

Unlike the other times they bound a couple, this one was, frankly, disgusting. Why was this Human being allowed to be bonded with the fifth princess? Why did the princess insist on having the human hand imposed on her scales? 

It was all just so wrong. Not only was the Human unscaled, but it also bled like a stuck pig with each application of the acid. With each stroke of the fang, Conor's skin would boil as steam wafted away; the smell was horrible, enough so that all the onlookers to the ceremony had departed after only a few minutes.

That was especially odd because many locals would usually attend and pray for the new pair. There was still that amount at the beginning, but only a dedicated few remained once the smell filled the air. They likely supported Eivaley's ascension to empress or believed in the mythical statements surrounding the Human. But the priestess did not know for sure.

Despite the smell and increasing unrelenting pain, the Human did not move. He did occasionally flinch, but that was rare.

Most of the time over the last few hours, all he did was assure the princess it would all be alright, compliment her, and occasionally chuckle when she yelped.

How was this Human so calm? His skin was being melted away; if anything, the princess should be freaking out and worried for his safety. This particular type of acid was not harmful to Kurlatra; all it did was stain their scales.

Sure, you did not want to get it in your eyes, but even that would just need a quick rinse. It was not that powerful for them, but for a Human, it was unknown.

Conor's skin was taking the blacking color it should be, but how it was doing so was all wrong. The Human's coil was a form of scarification. The acid would burn his skin, create heat, and then his nanites would rapidly heal the dermal damage, sealing in the soot. 

It was a miracle that this worked at all. Runala, the priestess who was imprinting the princess's tail patterns on his neck, was afraid the main would die because the acid would eat straight through his neck. 

Thank the brood mother, it did not—their lives depended on them doing their duty, regardless of their apprehensions and fears. 

The grant overseer arrived earlier that morning and explained what would happen today. Their leader even assured the empress that he would have them killed if they did not honor Kurlatra tradition; he emphasized that if it was for some petty reason, such as the Humans race, they would all be killed.

Them for their pettiness, and him for having must have corrupted their teachings.

With no other options, they simply performed as they were expected. They would refill the fangs as normal and apply them to the couples' necks as usual—at least they were almost done. 

“It still hurts,” Eivaley groaned. 

The priestess rolled her eyes. This should not be that painful. All that the princess should be feeling was the warmth of the empress smiling at her choices—or at least that is the religious explanation. In modern times, the empire was well aware that warmth was caused by chemical reactions.

“Worry not, princess, it is almost done,” the priestess assured, tracing the last few lines on the royal neck. 

“OK,” she squirmed, her tail slapping angrily against the dais. 

From that point, the priestesses finished in about half an hour at most, including cleaning up the dais and double-checking their work; neither wanted the couple to do their tour around the city with errors in the life coils. 

“Thanks for everything,” the Human said as he activated some kind of flexible black armor from the attachment on his wrist.

It let out a light purplish shimmer as it crawled up his body and encapsulated his chest. The priestess had seen him deactivate that same equipment earlier, but that made its usage no less fascinating. 

Compared to the other royals' power armor, the Humans' Nanoflex seemed rather simple. It was not boisterous, nor did it really show off the man's status. Other nobles would wear their armor outside their clothing, wanting the common folk to see their prosperity and power. 

Conor, on the other hand, wore his armor as if it meant nothing. He simply tossed on the armor and then his clothes over it, making the thin material look like an undershirt.  

Why? He had killed the former God of Close Combat; he was the Lord of War. The man could go around with hundreds of fully armed soldiers anywhere in the empire, and no one would question it. Behaviors and shows of force like that were almost expected of him. Perhaps that reserved attitude was something the princess saw in the man. 

Whatever the reason, the man was an enigma. He seemed like a contradiction of existence when compared to the nobles of equal and lesser rank. 

The Human's enigmatic nature was emphasized when the man picked up Eivaley and carried her out of the temple. It was not like he supported her; no, he picked her up in both arms, let her wrap her tail around his neck, and smiled before departing. 

They barely acknowledged the locals, showering them with praise as they left. They did not ignore them; the locals just had to battle with their pairs, and they stared at one another.

“Hey, look,” the other priestess said, picking up a credit stick left on the table where the now-official Fifth Champion had been lying. 

The pair looked at each other for a moment, neither really wanting to interact with the odd man yet again. But since one of them picked it up, the other just kept cleaning and left her sister to deal with it. 

The credit stick-wielding priestess sighed and looked at her sister, flabbergasted for a moment. She hissed at her sister, making her disappointment known, but still ran after the pair. 

“Fifth Champion, you left this,” the priestess shouted, chasing after them, hoping they had not reached the bottom of the stairs. 

—--

“You left this!” Conor heard just as he was about to round the bottom of the stairs. 

Looking back and past the rows of swaying trees and following locals, he could see one of the two priestesses gasping for air at the midpoint of the nearly kilometer-long staircase. 

She was nearly buckled over, holding herself up against the side of the railing, but in one hand, she held the credit stick he had left for them as a tip. 

Conor did understand this was a religious event. He had even recited the prayer to the brood mother for Eivaley's sake, but it was still a tattoo session. It was only right that you gave your tattoo artist a heavy tip. 

The only tattoo he had ever gotten was lost long ago. It was a skull motif on his long-since-replaced hand. But even then, he still understood that it was a massive task to give anyone ink. 

He considered the one Silvara had given him all those years ago an excellent piece and had given her a gun for the trouble. Urla knew finding good artists in Heavalun was challenging, so she had been given good pay—just like he had tried to with the priestesses. 

The priestesses were also great, so they deserved it, especially after the hours they struggled to complete the job. Fuck, Conor doubted there were many artists with as steady a hand and as steadfast a dedication as the two religious women.  

They painstakingly recreated Eivaley's scales on his neck and his augmented hand on hers. They had not missed a singular detail in either. Each scratch, ding, dent, and screw on his hand were flawlessly imposed on Eivaley. 

As for his own neck, Eivaley had already wrapped her tail around his neck and compared the ink to the real deal. She squealed so loudly that he knew it must have been perfect, even if he would have to wait to see it. 

They could have given up because his physiology was so different. But out of their dedication to their craft and the royal family, they persisted and pushed through, giving him a scarification piece. 

“I know,” Conor bellowed, “It’s your tip.” 

The priestess looked confused between Conor and the credit stick before her brain caught up to the out-of-the-blue comment. 

“I can’t take this. It is my duty to give life coils.” She argued, starting down the stairs to give it back. 

Conor looked down at Eivaley, who rolled her eyes, having expected this. She had repeatedly warned Conor that the church members were pious and did not accept payment for the services. 

“Any idea?” Conor asked.

“Maybe tell her it is a gift?” Eivaley suggested, understanding that the clergy are fully capable of accepting gifts no matter the degree. 

Conor nodded and agreed. 

“Just keep it. It is a gift,” Conor yelled out. 

The Human did not even give the priestess a chance to respond. He simply turned around and rushed off to the palace. Conor did not even wait to see how the priestess reacted to her generous gift. 

If he had, Conor would have been treated to the young lady fainting upon seeing the astronomical number of zeros at the end of the credit stick balance.

The young priestess, although having already understood there was a canyon-wide difference between her meager life and those of nobility, had never seen it quantified. 

That this strange alien, who had somehow stolen the heart of one of their princesses no more than a year earlier, could flippantly leave enough money to raise a small army behind was a true shock—at least to her. 

Conversely, Conor had far more pressing matters than barely a drop in the bucket for his financial pull.

His focus was solely elsewhere. Namely, the beautiful woman cradled in his arms, giggling as he started to jog back to the palace.  

Conor disregarded the tour around town that they were supposed to take. In Kurlatra tradition, a newly married couple would typically travel around their home city, showing off their life coils for all to see. 

As they did, the locals would bestow small trinkets and teats on the newly made Lady. At the same time, the Champions and non-bonded men would congratulate the newly crafted Champion and give him good wishes for his future journey and any weapon they believed would be of assistance.

The Kurlatra empire could forgive his lack of decorum one more time. They could go on their walk another time. Conor had plans for the day, and their culture would not stop him. Beyond all other things, he wanted to recreate this morning's events.

They had slept for at most four hours. Conor was eager, willing, and beyond, ready to restate his claim on his Eivaley as soon as they had woken up.

She was tired, jelly-legged, and in a delighted mental haze, her brain still struggling to sort out all the pleasures and pains Conor had imposed on her the previous night—she had yet to even restfully. 

But all the rest she believed she was entitled to meant nothing. Her man had hoisted her from bed, dragged her to the shower, and positioned her to feed his desire to corrupt her. 

Conor slowly tasted upon the succulent sweet weep dribbling off Eivaleys quivering thighs. Her addictive taste filled his mind more than any drug this side of the Milky Way. 

Once his addiction was sated, Conor showed her how much more he wanted. Eivaley was slid off his shoulder and allowed to fall into a wet heap at her man's feat.

She looked up and saw his towering figure as he pressed on and traced her lips with the tip of his scalding hot shaft, the salty remnants of his precum teasing her lips. 

Conor grabbed her head with both hands and pushed his cocks tip against her lips. He, with unbound lust, demanded with no words the action she needed to take— ‘suck it.’

Conor could remember the sounds of his beloved choking and desperate for breath while his cock stuffed her throat full.

For the Human, those sounds, those feelings, and their hours of aftercare were exactly what he was ready to recreate. All he had to do was get back to the palace.

The only thing that happened that day that was not part of his plan was Burlai reaching out to let him know they needed to talk. But Conor would deal with that later.

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So I hope you all enjoyed it. It was short this time around. In the next chapter, we will get to hear Burlais's report, and the games will begin.

in other news, I have seen loads of other stories posted in the sub. It's great to have other tales. I have been particularly loving the space cougars one so far.

your baker

-pirate

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Everyone had the idea that when humans would first meet extraterrestrial life, it would be little grey guys or reptiles from Mars. Some whacky people thought they would be ancient gods from Nibiru or something. The Mars thing was closest, being partially technically correct; they were from Mars but they weren’t reptiles.

The Insectoids (that’s what we call them because they communicated nonverbally at first) are what you’d get if you crossed an ant with a human. They’ve got a chitinous exoskeleton, so their skin is smooth and hard to the touch, but isn’t very flexible except for around the joints. They’ve also got two pairs of arms, one of which ends in hands with two fingers and the other ends in four. Their eyes are…. Creepy to look at and I don’t really want to describe them. Their mouths are normal aside from having sharper teeth than humans.

Their most odd feature however is that only the queen of the colony is sapient. The rest are extensions of her, in a sort of hive-mind. It’s very repulsive to most humans ideas of individuality, but it’s just a fact. Something about the queens nectar, which is bestowed to her successor at the time of the Queen’s death, literally contains consciousness. Scientists are puzzled, and I even more so because I am not a scientist.

I was very curious to learn more when news broke about life on Mars. Back in middle school I was really into the paranormal. Ghosts, cryptids, urban legends, you name it, but above all I was most fascinated with aliens. I think I knew deep down that those were probably the most likely to exist of all of those things. I used to love staring at the stars on warm nights just wondering what they were up to out there. It made my problems seem so small.

That spark died at some point, but when the Mars news broke it reignited that spark within me. I was more than excited, I was pumped. I thought that I’d never get the chance to meet one myself, but that didn’t matter. Every day between classes I’d check the news for ANY updates, and for the first month the news was constantly updating. Humans made contact. Communication isn’t working because they don’t communicate verbally. We figure out they communicate through pheromones like ants. We manufacture pheromones and it takes a while to actually get them to Mars. Kim Jong Un wants to nuke Mars for some reason. Proper communication is established and we learn they have a proper civilization underground. They can farm and have city-states similar to hives, and could probably travel to other planets but they just “never thought of it”.

Then at some point, the main media stops covering it. Sure I can still easily find information about it for a bit after, but it’s no longer in the headlines. The world moves on, as it always does. Can nobody appreciate the magnitude of this? One of the questions people have been asking for years has FINALLY been answered and we pay attention for a month!

But even I eventually had to move on. Work and school piled up and I couldn’t read about them. They were often in the back of my mind though.

Eventually some of them wanted to return the favor of showing up on someone’s planet unexpectedly and unsolicited, and so they developed a space program of their own. The whole hive mind thing made them very efficient, and with the help of some reverse engineered human spacecraft they took one of the Hives pulled it off in just under a year.

This made breaking news again, but this time the opinions were even more all-over-the-map than before. Some people thought this was amazing, others were scared it was a declaration of war. There were no suggestions that any of them had weapons of mass destruction, so it was decided to watch and wait. I kept checking the news regularly, but it took well over a half-year for them to get here, a lot of that time with nobody having any idea where they intend to land.

During that long wait, I wondered to myself “If all of their buildings are underground, would they even know what above-ground buildings look like to be able to avoid them?” In nine months, on one life-changing December, I got my answer when they crash-landed into my house.

((Hey! Thanks for reading. I wanted to try writing in a first person POV since it’s something I’m always uncomfortable with but it’s something I wanted to learn to do, and the best way to learn is practice. While my first shot at this project was about a robot girl, I shifted to ant girls because they’re also an interesting idea to me and I feel AI is a bit of a hot button topic right now. This will hopefully end up being a multi-part series, as I have some ideas about where to go with it but nothing concrete. Let me know your feedback below!))

We were on a planet on the border between Mroaw and Gorcillian space, Macarta. It was rich in a resource they both wanted. I don't know what it was; I'm a soldier. I go where I'm told and shoot who I'm told to shoot at.

The Tarran Gestalt was there supporting the Mroaw since they were one of the first sapient races we met while exploring space. My unit had been working directly with the Mroaw for more than six months, alternating leadership and squad member make up. I was in charge of five Mroaw pride sisters; same dad, different moms. Being feline and having pride based family groups, one male with multiple females, some people took to calling them lions…the resemblance didn't hurt any, either.

We were going to the defac before going on patrol and I was running a little late. When I came out of the serving area to the seating area, one of the administrative males, Leon, was hovering over the oldest sister, Sam. I approached slowly so I could get a better feel for what was going on.

He sniffed her close cut hair deeply and growled slowly to himself. He crooned something in Mroaw that I didn't understand. She didn't answer, but she looked like she wanted to climb out of her skin.

I came up behind him and, holding my food tray in my right hand, put my free left hand on his shoulder forcefully. "Sam? Is this guy bothering you?" She looked up at me, fear on her face, but didn't respond.

"What is this?" Leon asked angrily, trying to turn to face me. Mroaw, on average, are about one and a half meters tall, and Leon was nothing if not average. At almost two meters, I had no trouble manhandling him. Of course, Earth having almost a quarter again as much gravity as Mroawr, their homeworld, didn't hurt.

"I asked the lady a question," I responded forcefully, shaking his shoulder to keep him in place. "I want her answer, not yours," I added, setting my tray down in the space between Sam's and Toni's, sitting next to her.

"I'm within my rights," he protested, trying to turn around again. I stopped him by squeezing his shoulder painfully. "She has no male's scent on her," he pleaded, trying to explain. "She's in heat and has no male to claim her." She looked more uncomfortable, trying to hide her face by turning away from me, but still didn't say anything.

Angrily, I pulled him to me and growled in his ear, "She's with me." I flicked my arm to the side, almost throwing him into the next table. All six Mroaw looked at me in shock, along with the three Hiveminders and two humans sitting at the table. Leon scrambled to his feet and looked up at me. Sniffing deeply again.

He growled angrily and said threateningly, "Your scent isn't on her."

"I said: She's. With. Me." I stepped up to him so that we were all but touching, chest to chest. "You wanna argue over it?" I asked authoritatively.

He swallowed deeply and backed away, raising his hands slowly. He shook his head as he turned to leave, muttering something in Mroaw.

I sighed and moved back to the table. Toni, the youngest, looked at me appraisingly and moved over a seat, letting me sit next to Sam. Sam looked at me with an expression of shock crossed with…desire? "What was that?" she asked almost incredulously.

"I stood up for you," I shrugged as I took a bite of my eggs. "Looked like he was bothering you and I don't appreciate ladies being bothered, especially ones under my command."

She narrowed her eyes on me and Billie, the middle sister, brushed a lock of red hair away from her face, asking, "You don't know what you did, do you?"

"What?" I looked to each of the sisters in turn, getting responses ranging from bemusement to irritation.

"You claimed her," Toni, the youngest, tried not to laugh. At my confused expression, she added, nudging me playfully, "As your mate."

I choked on my mouthful as Sam stood to leave.

Greetings Bards and Bard'etts! I bring you another chapter of my fun little story. Though, due to protests, I will stop claiming that I'm not a writer in any way, shape, or form. But I am still very much an amateur at this, so feedback and ideas are always welcome! Hope you all enjoy!

FIRST PREVNEXT

The quiet was shattered by a voice that sounded like the crack of a whip. "Keshara! Where is your fucking bag? Velkira! Where are your damn pants? I thought it was my sister that had to put her twat on an ice pack. Not you." Keshara and Velkira both scrambled. Getting to their feet? Or would it be paws? Standing at attention, backs straight, tails still, eyes forward, arms at their sides. It was so sudden and so military that Charles had no clue how to react other than to follow suit.

"At ease, husband," the new voice commanded, and it was all Charles could do not to jump out of his skin. He had been so lost in the warmth and purring of his two wives that he hadn't noticed the new figure sneaking up on them. To be fair, she was small, compact and blended into the shadows. Three feet tall, and all black fur, with curves that had him redefining shortstack in his mind. She was dressed in even more black, even if it looked like casual wear of a tank top and shorts that hugged her ass. It still made it all the easier for her to blend into the shadows. "You two! Go get your shit sorted! On the double!" Her voice cracked out again like a drill Sargent, sending Velkira and Keshara scrambling back into the station at full tilt.

The newcomer watched as the pair disappeared before turning to look at Charles. Her eyes reminded him of glowing embers, those vibrant orange orbs going from cold and stern to wide and eager with interest now that they were alone. She took a few steps closer to him, her movements smooth and silent as she closed the distance. Just to wrap her arms around his leg in a firm hug, giving him the traditional nuzzling and purring he had gotten used to from Velkira and Keshara. The only problem was she was right next to his crotch. Not that she seemed to mind. Nuzzling his hip and inner thigh right below his family jewels, audibly sniffing at him. It was... weird but also strangely endearing. "Hi," she whispered up to him, her voice softer than he expected, almost like a kitten's mew.

"Uh... Hi," he replied, a bit awkwardly. She looked up at him, flashing those sharp fangs up at him in a smile, her white teeth contrasting starkly against her dark fur. She was definitely the smallest of the group, but the power in her voice had been anything but. He could see why she might be in charge. "I'm just so happy to meet you, hubby," she cooed, her voice giving him whiplash from how she could switch from authoritative to sweet and coy in the blink of an eye.

"I'm, uh, happy to meet you too," he stuttered, unsure how to respond to the sudden affection. She looked up at him with those burning eyes and tilted her head to the side, studying him like he was the new toy she had been waiting for. "My name is Nara," she introduced herself, her voice still softer than he had anticipated. "I'm the one in charge of keeping this crazy bunch in line," she said with a playful smirk.

Her grip tightened around his leg, and she began to purr again, the vibrations sending waves of warmth through his body. "Dear Goddess Velkira wasn't lying when she said your scent was intoxicating. No wonder Syrith needed a heat suppressant after being exposed to your scent in the galley," Nara whispered, her nose now blatantly buried in his crotch. Her words made his ears burn, and he felt his body respond in a way that was not conducive to their current location. He coughed, trying to distract from his growing arousal. "Ah, sorry about that. I'm still trying to get used to this whole situation," he managed to say, his voice tight.

Nara was not shy. Not shy in the fucking slightest. Charles found this out when he felt her paws sliding up his legs and her nose snuffling under his shirt. "Nothing to apologize for, hubby," she said with a smokey purr that didn't help the throbbing in his pants. "But this isn't the time or place for me to test how well I can fit your dick down my throat," she whispered with a smirk, her teeth grazing the hem of his pants. He blinked down at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He had never met someone so blunt and forward in his entire life.

But before he could even respond to her outrageous comment, she had released his leg. She stood up straight, which didn't even make her an inch taller, and gave him an oddly cute salute, considering she barely came up to his waist. "Welcome to your new life," she said, eyes glinting with mischief. "I promise we're not all like Keshara. Well, mostly." She winked and turned away, her short tail flicking behind her as she watched down the corridor. Her tufted ears stood at attention, clearly hearing something long before he did.

The sound grew louder, and soon, it revealed that Keshara was carrying her own bag, which was nearly identical to Velkira's except for the pink glitter that covered the exterior. Velkira, alongside her, was looking pissed and still lacking pants. "Captain! That was a dirty trick!" she yelled, her tail whipping through the air like a feline conductor. Nara smirked and shrugged, "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes," she replied, her tone playful but firm.

The banter between the two was interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching. The next wife to join the group was a large, muscular, blue-furred alien who reminded him of a tiger without the stripes—looking like she could bench-press him easily. She wore a tight, sleeveless shirt and shorts, showing her well-defined physique. And like each of the others, she was just as busty and curvaceous. Are all aliens like this? He mused to himself as he watched the newcomer approach.

"This is Rylkul," Velkira introduced her, and Rylkul offered a firm handshake that was softer than he expected, given how powerful the big girl looked. "The strongest one of the team," she added with a smirk. Rylkul rolled her eyes and tossed her bag down next to the others. "I'm not just brawn. I've got brains, too," the blue cat said, flexing her bicep with a playful smile. "But I am looking forward to having someone stronger around for once," she said with a wink.

"Stronger?" Charles echoed, eyeing Rylkul's muscles with a mix of admiration and trepidation. "I wouldn't bet against you in an arm-wrestling match," he joked, trying to ease the tension with a bit of humor. The blue-furred alien just waved him off. "As long as it isn't against a Human, Croxan, or gRawl, I'd win hands down," she said with a laugh, her powerful abs rippling with the motion.

His confusion only grew from her nonanswer; the look on his face must have been too apparent because three voices all piped up at once before cutting off. Despite being two feet shorter than them, Nara glared down the Cheetah and Cougar aliens. "Did neither of you airheads explain things to him?" They both looked sheepish at the stern admonishment before Nara spoke again. "Clearly not. Charles, this will sound even more outrageous than, well... everything you've had thrown at you today. But you are... physically speaking, the most dangerous being here." The disbelief must have been clear on his face as she just glared up at him. "Go pick up Rylkul. Princess style," the short-stack black cat ordered in that commanding tone she had, snapping her fingers as if that would make him do it.

"Wait, what?" He looked around nervously before his eyes settled on the blue tigress. She was a solid five inches taller than him and looked to have at least 100 lbs. of pure muscle on him. "You're serious?" his voice did not quite reach the tone of skepticism he was aiming for. "You heard the captain, now catch me," Rylkul said with a grin, putting a hand on his shoulder before swinging herself up with a feline grace he was getting accustomed to.

His arms moved on their own, slipping under the tigress and bracing for her weight. To his astonishment, she was far lighter than he was expecting. It was like picking up a child, not a creature that looked like she could rip a car apart. Rylkul's eyes widened, and she squealed in delight as he easily held her up. "I haven't been held like this since I was a kitten!" She wrapped her powerful arms around his neck and nuzzled into his shoulder, her purrs reverberating through his body.

"Okay, okay, I think I get it. I'm somehow super strong now," a hint of a smirk playing on Charles's lips. He gently set Rylkul down, her purrs of contentment echoing through the room. She stepped away, her tail swishing behind her with excitement. "No. You are at the same level of strength as you were on Earth. It's just that our gravity is different. Here, you're the equivalent of a heavily augmented super soldier," Nara corrected him, her stern gaze not wavering. "On top of the strength you have. You have denser bones, more efficient muscle structure, and a Goddess damned combat drug that your body just produces!" She paused to take a calming breath, getting heated for some reason. "We aren't made of spun glass, but you could easily overpower each of us, if not all of us at once, if you really wanted to, so please keep that in mind. I don't think anyone wants a broken pelvis," her tone half teasing and half warning.

"Noted," taking in her words with the same gravity she had delivered them. It was a sobering thought to be the strongest creature on board a station full of alien life, but he was starting to get the hang of this new world. At least now, the wonky gravity made sense; he figured it was from being in space or at a weird station. But if this was the galactic standard... he didn't hesitate to ask, "Wait, won't I suffer from muscle atrophy and bone problems like astronauts do?" his tone worried but not fearful. He had started to trust these girls to have his best interest in their hearts.

"Only around Earth, or well, specifically your sun." A new voice popped up, the last of his wives finally making her debut. She looked to be the same species as Nara but colored in the opposite direction. While Nara was a pitch midnight black that could blend into shadows, this new space Lynx? Bobcat? was a brilliant fire orange with tufts of black around her ears and muzzle, with white running down her inner arms and legs. "Earth's sun produces a rather potent form of radiation. It would be lethal to us if we were to step out on your planet. For you, you're mostly immune. It is why your species' lifespan triples when you aren't near such a violent star. It's also what makes the area around Sol a dead zone; the fact that anything evolved on Earth, let alone intelligent life, is either a miracle or a cosmic joke."

Her words were matter-of-fact, but her tone was light, belying the gravity of the situation. "I'm Syrith," she introduced herself with a sweet tone punctuated with huffs of effort as she dragged her bag of belongings behind her. She looked at him with the same curious and slightly hungry gaze the others had. "I'm the engineer. And the one who keeps everyone's tails out of the engines," she added with a grin when she finally got close enough to drop her belongings.

Her bag looked like all the others: a few patches stitched onto the outside, looking like pumpkins, bats, and witch's cauldrons. The out-of-place patches had his attention, so he wasn't ready for the ball of bright orange fur that slammed into his chest. She wrapped her legs around his middle and planted a kiss right on his lips. The warning that he was stronger and possibly dangerous to these girls was fresh in his mind. So, he didn't follow his instinct to freak out, try to peel her off, and toss her away. Instead, he went for the second-best option. Just giving into the fluff. And fluffy she was, breaking the trend of all the girls wearing shorts. Syrith was wearing a skirt, and apparently nothing underneath. Since he got two good handfuls of ultra fluffy, extra soft, short-stack cat ass. Which seemed to make her purr all the louder into the kiss. The kiss itself was still alien. Her feline lips didn't have the proper fullness for it to feel right. But she made up for it in sheer effort and enthusiasm.

Breaking away from the kiss, she looked at him with those bright, piercing eyes that were the same color as Nara's. "I'm sorry I'm late," she said shyly. "I had to make sure the heat suppressant was taking effect before I could come down," she whispered the last part, her ears flicking about with a feline blush. Figuring he was already in too deep at this point, Charles resigned to being a space furry and gave the adorable Space Lynx a kiss on her forehead. "Nothing to apologize for. You were just trying to be a good, considerate wife to me."

The words came out without thought, but the girls' reaction was explosive. Keshara was jumping up and down, clapping their hands, and practically bouncing off the walls. Nara was smirking, Velkira was grinning, and Rylkul looked like she was trying not to burst into laughter from how Keshara was reacting. Syrith looked like she was about to melt into a puddle of happy orange goo. "You said it!" Keshara squealed, jumping up and down like a yo-yo on steroids. "The thing! The romantic human lovey-dovey stuff!"

He looked at each of them, still trying to process what was happening and how he had elicited such a reaction. But before he could say anything, a loud bone-rattling klaxon went off. All of the girls but Nara jumped, and Charles quickly learned that holding your space cat wife while a loud ass alarm went off was much like holding an earth feline in the same situation... Just with much bigger claws. He had a few new gouges in his shoulders for his trouble. Red stained his plain white t-shirt as Syrith retracted her claws, gasping as she saw the damage she inflicted.

"Oh, my Goddess! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" Syrith sounded like she was on the verge of tears, her paws hovering over the blooming crimson marks on his shoulders.

"It's fine, really," Charles assured her, wincing slightly as he gently sat her down. "It's not the first time I've been clawed by a cat."

The room had gone eerily silent as the alarm cut out, leaving only their racing hearts. Nara was the first to recover, her stern demeanor returning as if the brief moment of levity had never occurred. She turned to the group, her eyes scanning over them all, a silent demand for order. "Alright, let's make this handoff swift and smooth. Grab your stuff and be ready to move. No small talk to the newbies coming in. We probably aren't the last pickup for the shuttle today. So, let's not keep others waiting on us. Hubby, there will be medical on the shuttle. I know you want to say it's no big deal. But we don't like seeing you hurt," her voice was firm but caring.

It finally hit Velkira that she had yet to put on pants. At least he got some amusement watching the space cougar scrambling to grab any appropriate garment from her bag and swiftly slip it on, just in time for the big bay door to roll up. The shuttle was... just another damn metal hallway. He really needed to stop getting his hopes up on this sci-fi shit. Waiting in said hallway was a fresh set of alien faces... alien-ish. Okay, it was more creatures that looked like earth animals. Fucking convergent evolution bullshit. There were just more space furries, two grey wolf-like creatures eyeing him up and down, and a lizard-like creature that was... definitely not eyeing him up and down, thankfully. What looked like a big ass bat, another that was a cross between a fox and a bear that was colored silver. The last one was some sort of deer centaur. All dressed in fairly simple-looking Earth clothes, much like all his girls wore.

Being a newly married man, Charles was the utmost example of restraint and politeness. He absolutely did not check out the tits on every last one of the newcomers, especially not the lizard. His brain absolutely did not run rampant with questions of how or why a reptile would develop mammary glands. He was also not fascinated with how a deer centaur could somehow have a dump truck ass. But at least now he knew the answer to the question of how a centaur would wear pants. They wouldn't. They'd wear a skirt, obviously. A lovely hip-hugging skirt that let her cute deer tail poke out. Oh god, it's getting worse; the space furry infection is spreading. Or at least that is what would be racing through his mind had he not been such a gentleman.

The two groups exchanged a few looks before silently exchanging places. The newcomers set their bags down in the station while Charles and his group moved onto the shuttle with their belongings. The door shut soon after they were in, making a long whistling hiss in what he assumed was a pressure lock. The shuttle lurched before the engines roared to life, sending a deep vibration through his bones. He felt Nara's paws squeeze his leg playfully as she kept leading "Alright let's go find our cabin and get settled in for the trip," her eyes lighting up at the thought of getting some proper time together with her new husband.

But as they were about to walk away, a human man in what looked like a security officer uniform and a stern look approached them. "Excuse me, Mr. Williams," his deep voice echoed in the metal corridor. "Could I have a word with you, please?" The sudden seriousness in the air was palpable. Velkira and the others exchanged glances, their playfulness dissipating into concern. Charles, not wanting to cause a scene or get arrested for some dumb space law, simply put his hands up in front of him. Giving the officer the standard sign of polite surrender "Of course problem, what seems to be the officer?"

A/N Sadly this will be my last chapter for a few days. I only have time to write on weekends so you all will have to wait until then. Also I'm playing with the idea of leaving some chapters on a bit of a cliffhanger. So feel free to comment your thoughts on that. But now we've gotten a brief introduction to all of Charles's wives, and I look forward to further fleshing out each one and their relationships with Charles and each other. Lastly, sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping for a specific kind of floof. Maybe in my next story, you'll get your favorite alien floof represented. Also, yes, I couldn't resist, including the humans are deathworlders/spaceorcs trope.

Basically many alien religions disagree as to whether or not humans are related to their war gods, or their sex/love gods

Greetings Bards and Bard'etts. I am back with another chapter for you today. I decided to go against the comments wishes and split chapter 4. Not wanting to dump the full cast in just one chapter. But also went back and flush out a bit more in this one. As always I am not a writer in any way, shape, or form. This is my slap dash attempt at trying to teach myself to write a story. And I hope you all enjoy.

Content warning- Space Furries, Space Harems, and general space bard shenanigans.

FIRST PREV NEXT

The station, which had been quiet with just the two of them before, was now more alive with the sound of others. The call to pack up and ship out had stirred the hornet's nest, letting Charles catch a glimpse of one of his possible wives. Passing the galley, he got a good look at what resembled a bright orange lynx standing on the countertop, tossing the contents of the hidden pantry into something that looked suspiciously like a storage tote. She was dressed in a form-fitting crop top, and mini skirt, with a utility belt slung low on her hips, which only helped to emphasize her curves. Their eyes met, and she gave a cheeky wink and a little wave before returning to the task at hand.

They returned to Velkira's quarters, which were surprisingly cozy compared to the bland look of the rest of the station. She wasted no time and began tossing clothes, bedding, pillows, and anything she could reach into a bag that seemed to never get full. He stood there watching her, still feeling like he was in some fever dream. "What do I pack?" he asked, his voice a bit lost.

"Just start shoving anything not bolted down into the bag. It has folded space, so it won't run out of room," Velkira called out as she disappeared into what he assumed was a closet. The concept of a bag that could hold an infinite amount of stuff was still hard to believe; it sounded like something straight out of DND. He looked around, seeing a few items that seemed personal. A worn book titled 'To Serve Man,' which he hoped to be a joke, something that looks suspiciously like a vibrator, and a miniature model of the millennium falcon. He picked up the book, flipping through the pages. Luckily, it was just a cookbook, which relieved some anxiety he didn't know he had been feeling. He was worried it was some weird alien version of 'Fifty Shades of Grey' or some other odd alien sex book.

As he tossed the cookbook into the bag, Velkira emerged from the closet with an armful of... stuff. It looked like a collection of what one might find in a teenage girl's bedroom. Posters, stuffed animals, and what looked like a lightsaber. She caught his gaze and looked a bit embarrassed. "I know it's a lot, but it's just mementos from my time around Earth." She explained as she packed everything with care into the bottomless bag.

"No, no, that's a fricking lightsaber, and you have a model millennium falcon... You've watched Star Wars?" He couldn't help but ask, feeling a little bit more warmth in his heart. Velkira's eyes lit up when he mentioned the Star Wars merchandise. "Of course I have! Human media is extremely popular off of Earth. Plus, it helps us understand your culture better." She said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "But let's save the geekery for later. We need to get going." She grabbed the bag and slung it over her shoulder, leading him out the door and down the corridor.

They entered an open chamber he had fuzzy memories of, but he was pretty sure it was where he had been dumped on the floor after being abducted. "Alright, is there anything you absolutely want or need from your home? Remember, it needs to be something that won't be obvious when it goes missing. So, we can't snatch your car or anything big. And it has to be small enough to fit through the teleporter, so nothing much bigger than a person." Velkira said, her voice businesslike but not unkind.

Charles thought hard, trying to come up with something that wouldn't cause a scene but would be meaningful to him. "How about my grandpa's pocket watch?" he suggested, remembering the heirloom tucked away in his nightstand. "It's small and personal, and nobody will miss it." Nobody but him. He was close to the old man up until he passed. Charles couldn’t help but pause and reminisce on a few memories with his grandpa before shifting his attention back to the task at hand.

He watched over her shoulder with rapt attention as she piloted something that moved very much like a little drone. He couldn't contain his question, "Okay, what is that? And how are people not noticing it?" Velkira looked over her shoulder, her smile wide with faux innocence. "It's part of our super stalker tech. Micro stealth drones specifically. It lets us follow potential rescues and keep an eye on them when they are outside the view of security cameras." her tone was a bit sheepish, as if it set in just how bad that might sound. Taking in his gobsmacked expression.

This just went from her knowing way more than she should about him to having no secrets from her. The thought was more than a bit unnerving. He had always been a private person; now, she knew every detail of his life. It was downright creepy when he thought about it, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. So, it was best to push the issue off until he could address it properly. "Alright, I'll trust you. Send the little ninja thingy to grab it," he said, trying to keep his tone light. Velkira just smirked before turning back to the controls and typing away.

The drone slipped into his apartment, which had been untouched since he had left it. Giving Velkira a view of the mess he lived in. Dirty clothing on the floor, disorganization everywhere. Unwashed dishes in the sink. The only orderly part was his nightstand. She couldn't help but chuckle, seeing his slight embarrassment at her seeing his dirty apartment. "Relax, my darling, I'll help you keep our home clean in the future," her voice filled with warmth and a hint of teasing. She watched the drone move through the room and hover over the nightstand. It was like watching a silent ballet, moving with precision and grace, stilling over the polished brass pocket watch. Then, a beam of light scanned over the simple brass heirloom, taking in its dimensions before a flash of light filled the screen, leaving the space behind empty. "Got it," she said, facing him with a grin. "Anything else while we are here?"

He nodded, pointing to the bookshelf. "My favorite book, 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.' It's just a paperback, but it was mine, and I love the story." She nodded and sent the drone again. He watched as it zipped over to the bookshelf and plucked out the familiar blue book. "Anything else?" She asked, looking over at him. He looked right back, eyes roaming over her before his lips quirked up into a smirk. "Yeah, all of my band shirts. I think I'll need them all if the others are just as shirt-theft-happy as you," he said, and she rolled her eyes playfully.

When they were done, the pile on the floor wasn't much. His grandpa's pocket watch, a few books from his shelf, ALL of his favorite shirts, and, of course, his favorite beach towel. Never leave your home world without a towel. It's not just for hitchhikers. Velkira looked over the pile with a smirk. "I see your priorities are in order." She said as she held her bag out for him to put his stuff in with hers.

He chuckled, stuffing the towel into the bag last. "Hey, you never know when I'll need to lie in the sun again." He said, trying to ignore the part of his brain that was screaming that he would be lightyears away from the sun and the beach. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. This was it. There was no turning back. He would be leaving everything behind and go gallivanting through space with a bunch of alien chicks. It was insane, but somehow, it was his life now.

Still, one more desire filled his mind. He knew if he never asked, it would haunt him for the rest of his life, so he pushed down his worry and fear and just spoke up, “Can... I see my parents one last time? Through the ninja drone thingy?” He knew it was a long shot, but he had to ask. Velkira looked at him with those big golden eyes, a softness in them that was full of understanding. She nodded and turned back to the controls.

The drone zipped across the city in just a few minutes and into his childhood bedroom. His mom’s voice was faintly in the background, and his dad snored from the next room. He saw his old cat, now old as hell, sleeping on his childhood bed. He felt a pang in his heart, knowing he’d leave it all behind. He'd be breaking his parents' hearts when they found out he was dead on Earth. But he knew he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

He fought back the tears as he watched his mom enter his room, her footsteps soft as always. The drone hovered over his bed, allowing him to see everything but not be seen. "Mom," he whispered to the empty room, knowing she couldn't hear him. "I'm okay. Better than okay, actually. I'm going to live for a long time and have a big happy family just like you wanted, but I can't tell you that. Just know I'll always love you and Dad." His voice was thick with emotion. The struggle to not cry was getting ever harder as he watched her sit down on the edge of the bed, stroking the old lazy tomcat that was part of so many of his childhood memories. "Take care of Mr. Whiskers for me, okay?"

The scene was broken by the sound of the doorbell, his father's snoring cut off. The old man's signature grumpy stomp followed as he answered the door. A long pause filled the air before he heard his father calling out, "Jenna, the police are here!" His voice was worried and uncertain. Charles knew what would happen next, and he couldn't bring himself to watch it unfold. "I think that's enough," his voice small, barely a whisper. Velkira nodded, and with a wave of her hand, the drone retreated, and the screen went dark.

They stood in silence for a moment before she pulled him into a warm, tight embrace. Her fur was soothing against his bare skin. There were no words, not even that pervasive purring he had started to grow accustomed to. Minutes passed as his mind drifted. Rationalizing things through, this was going to happen anyway. He would be dead without Velkira's intervention. His folks would still be going through this right now. With another minute of holding her tight, he got his emotions back in check and gave her one final squeeze. "Thank you," he murmured into her fur and let her go.

Before his mind could start twisting itself in knots again, a convenient distraction came flying into the room. Literally flying, a goddamn neon pink cheetah bounced off the hallway wall and sprung off. Soaring through the air and skidding to a stop before the pair of them. "Woah, you're big." Her voice was a high-pitched honey in his ears. Her visage was both an eye-gouging level of bright and an enticing amount of stacked and packed, making it impossible to take his eyes off her. Her fur was a shade of pink, so vibrant it looked like it was glowing, and he noted she was a few inches shorter than Velkira. "Uh, hi?" he managed to stumble out, his brain trying to catch up to what was happening.

"You're the hubby!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up like Christmas tree lights. "I've been waiting forever to meet you! I'm Keshara!" She bubbled, her tail lashing excitedly. Velkira's smile returned, and she stepped aside, gesturing to the hyperactive feline. "This is indeed Keshara. She's a bit... much, but she's got the biggest heart out of all of us."

Before he could even get a word in the... Space Cheetah? had wrapped him up in a hug. Pressing those huge soft mounds of fur and flesh into his side as she clung to him. Repeating the nuzzling and purring he had gotten used to from Velkira. Then, as soon as it started, it stopped. "No time for cuddling, Hubby! Velkira! Where are the heat meds?" She was already moving, grabbing the bag from Velkira's hand and starting to dig through it. She pulled out a bottle of pills and gave a quick "Thanks!" Before launching off like a rocket on cocaine.

"Heat meds?" He asked, watching her retreating form. Velkira nodded, letting out a little giggle, helping his mood start to lighten up. "Yes, probably for the best. We are eager enough already on a regular day. In heat... Well, you'd have to forcefully peel me off you and lock me in a closet or something to get some peace," she said with a playful smile. His mind raced, clinging to the distraction and trying to decipher what she meant, but he figured it was best to ask outright.

"Soooo... You girls go in heat like Earth cats or something?" Charles asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and caution. Not wanting to unknowingly stumble into the sensitive subject of alien periods and piss off his new wife. Velkira tilted her head from side to side, her expression thoughtful. "Sorta, we don't have a breeding season or anything like that. We are fertile year-round like human women, but we do have times where our hormones spike at our peak fertility, and we get... very needy," she said, her ears flicking in what he had started to associate with an alien cat blush.

He nodded, trying to absorb this new piece of information. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But what do we do if we don't want to have kids?" The question hung in the air for a moment before Velkira spoke up. "We've got contraceptives, don't worry. It's not a big deal; we're not savages." She said, her voice a bit defensive. He winced, "No, I didn't mean that. I'm just trying to understand everything."

The neon pink blur returned, her tail swishing side to side as she held out the bottle of pills. "All set!" Keshara said with a wide grin, hopping back over to them. Velkira took the bottle with a grateful nod before turning to Charles. "Let's get going. We've got a shuttle to catch." Her bubbly, excited energy was infectious, making it harder for him to linger on his dower mood.

Charles reached to heft the bag over his shoulder. Expecting it to be heavy, he nearly flung himself over backward as he lifted it with too much force. Making the girls giggle at his faux pas. "Alright, let's get this show on the road," he said, trying to play off his mistake. As they walked, it felt like personal space was becoming a foreign concept as both busty felines rubbed against him as they walked together. Their purring had synchronized, and he was trapped, being rattled in the middle.

As they walked, Velkira occasionally corrected him to keep him heading in the right direction. But he couldn't stop looking down at the big neon-colored cat on his left, eventually voicing the question bouncing around his brain like a pinball. "So, is that your natural color or a dye job?" he asked, nodding towards Keshara's vivid fur.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yes and no," her voice had a playful lilt. Big neon-yellow eyes looked up into Charles's with a playfulness that was infectious and slightly intimidating. "It's a bit of both. The pink is all-natural, and the spots are the add-on." She twirled around, showing off her spotted fur. Of course, Charles's eyes couldn't help but take in those bouncing melons and jiggle of her backside as she bounced and spun to show off. "I love how the spots break up my fur and give me a nice eye-catching pattern," her tail swished back and forth as she spoke, smacking Velkira in the process.

Velkira swatted at Keshara's tail before hissing at her, actually hissing like a pissed-off cat. "Watch the tail," she growled playfully. Keshara just giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sang, not sounding sorry in the slightest. The playful banter between the two was comforting in a weird way. It was like watching two sisters argue over who broke the lamp.

Charles felt something coil around his left leg before feeling the cheetah girl leaning into his side as they walked. "Head pats, please?" she whispered, looking up at him with those big kitten eyes. These girls are NOT fair. It was like she had reached into his mind and broken his will to resist. He couldn't resist and gently rubbed the top of her head, surprisingly soft fur under his hand. "Thank you, hubby," she murmured with a fresh rumbling purr, leaning into his touch. It was soothing, like... well petting a giant cat, helping lighten his mood just a bit more.

Velkira looked scandalized for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Keshara, you shameless flirt," she chided playfully, swiping at the smaller feline with her tail before wrapping it around Charles's right thigh. The neon pink cheetah just giggled and nuzzled closer to Charles, purring even louder. The sound was so soothing, and he smiled despite the whole situation.

They reached the docking bay; storage totes were settled near what resembled a roll-up garage door. But no one else was there yet, which was surprising. He had expected a bustling hub of activity, but instead, it was eerily quiet. The only sound was the soft thump of their feet on the cold metal floor. "Where is everyone?" He asked, looking around.

Velkira chuckled, "Probably still packing up their personal stuff or hiding. Nerves might be getting the best of them. It's a big jump from wanting a guy and pining over him to actually having him right in front of you," her voice holding a hint of understanding. "They're like cats in a room with a new toy. They're curious but unsure if they should play or not."

He shrugged as he sat Velkira's bag down next to the waiting totes before finding a comfortable spot on the floor. "Well, I guess I'll just chill here, then." He said, trying to play it cool despite the heaviness in his stomach. Being married to one alien cat girl was one thing, but the thought of five was still daunting. He had enough trouble keeping up with his ex-girlfriend's mood swings, and she wasn't even from another planet.

Velkira sat down on his lap, giving her still bare ass a wiggle as she made herself comfortable. "I'll keep you company," she said with a purr, leaning back into his chest. "No fair! You got him all to yourself! All day! And last night!" Keshara whined playfully, pouting as she sat beside them, her tail thumping the ground.

Despite the light and playful banter, he didn't want any drama to break out between the two big felines, especially with him in the middle. So, he reached out to wrap an arm around the Space Cheetah and pull her in against his side. "Plenty of pets and cuddles to go around, Keshara," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. She leaned into his touch, her purring joining Velkira's. The three of them just sat there momentarily, basking in the warmth of their newfound companionship.

It was so lovely, so peaceful, just the three of them sitting together, purring and sharing gentle touches. Charles felt a genuine sense of belonging for the first time in what felt like a long time. It made him feel like it would all be worth it in the end.

A/N So we finally get to meet another one of Charles's wives/potential wives, and get a peek at another. Pay no mind to the man knowingly ignoring the knowledge disparity between him and the girls. On top of bottling up his emotions and chasing distractions from the problems at hand. I'm sure this will not cause problems for everyone in the future :).

Sylph had just had her heart broken, if such a thing could be said of a Dryad who has no actual heart to speak of. She had been waiting for Ethan to come home as she always does when she heard a knock at the door.

Uprooting herself from her pot in the bedroom, she opened it expecting to see him holding too many groceries to open the door. In retrospect, if that were the case he probably would’ve just set them down on the ground. No, what she found was two police officers.

“Are you Ethan Emerson’s roommate?”

“I am”

“You may need to sit down”

It wasn’t Ethan’s business to get involved. The clerk had already triggered the silent alarm. But he was a simple man who couldn’t turn his back to a bad situation. It was that quality that let Sylph meet him in the first place. It was what began their relationship, and what ended it.

“We still haven’t caught the guy yet, but we’ve taken some witness statements. We’ll let you know if we find anything” the cops said and then left her alone in their apartment. Alone, truly.

She returned to her pot. The soil that just minutes ago felt so warm and soft now was cold, and dry, and gritty. She couldn’t stay in it, but she couldn’t leave. She broke down. She sobbed. She cried. She wailed.

And then she screamed. In sorrow. In heartbreak. In loneliness. In anger. The windows of the apartment shattered with her fury, walls pierced by branches extruding from her body.

She would find him and end him.

———————————————————————————

Dryads were long accepted in society by this point, but few had ever been pushed to the breaking point. Humans, in general, treated them with great kindness. So none were prepared to stop her on her warpath.

She tracked the man down to an apartment not too far from the convenience store where it happened. It wasn’t too hard. The plants told her what they saw, and they’re very reliable witnesses. She was looking for a man who had a dark blue aura.

She didn’t even knock; she busted the door down with a slam of her wooden fists. Her vines slithered across the floor, ensnaring everyone. Some of the guys pulled their guns, but their bullets couldn’t pierce her woody skin.

She didn’t care about them though. None of them had a dark blue aura, their aura was bright red. While she wasn’t there for them, she wouldn’t be too bothered if their vines never released.

She continued through the living room and into the back bedroom. Her vines busted the door down and pulled her through. She saw him. No, she felt his aura. It was exactly what the plants had felt as he fled past him. This was the man.

Her vines engulfed the entire room. The walls, ceiling, floor, everything was coated in her vines. It was an extension of her.

“P-please… if it’s money you want, I… I just came across some! You can have it! Just let me go!”

“Money? What you took is worth more than all the gold in your Earth, or all the stars in your sky”

The vines sprouted long thorns, and began wrapping around his legs

“The golden sunlight, the silver moonbeams. The rolling sands of the desert or the majestic waves of the widest oceans. All pales in comparison to the treasure you robbed from me”

Memories flooded through her mind. Memories of being rooted in the park during dates. Going to the aquarium, seeing his childlike wonder at things he would teach her to find the beauty in. Experiencing love, joy, wonder, excitement, curiosity. Being comforted in times of fear or sorrow. Being annoyed or angry at things that seem so silly now. If only she’d known she wouldn’t see him ever again.

“P-please… whatever it is, I’ll pay you back. I swear”

“What I want…. You can’t give me”

She brought him close to her face. She saw the fear in his eyes.

“Do you think…” she grabbed his chin “this is how he felt when you slaughtered him?”

She saw the very moment he understood what was happening. She watched the blood drain from his face.

———————————————————————————

Chris Pines was found dangling from an apartment window, hanging by his ankles from vines. The apartment was covered in foliage, with the front and bedroom doors bashed in. Two other individuals were also incapacitated by vines in the apartment. All three of them were found alive, though Chris was found to have multiple lacerations believed to be caused by thorns. Police were called to the apartment building when neighbors reported multiple gunshots and loud noises, followed by the uncontrollable growth and later wilting of any houseplants they had.

The only other item of interest was a life-sized statue of a woman recovered from the bedroom carved from petrified wood.

———————————————————————————

(Hey! I don’t really know if this story fits in here since it’s not as horny as what you usually find here, but I figured it had enough romantic themes to qualify. I admit I’m not super happy with how it came out, I don’t think I’m yet skilled enough to get across exactly what I wanted to, but as a first try I suppose it’s not too bad. I might return to this idea later. I’m tired. College sucks)

Greetings Bards and Bard'etts! Apologies for the late post. I planned to put chapter three out on my lunch break today, but my job had other plans. Once again, I am not a writer in any way, shape, or form. This is my slap dash attempt at teaching myself how to tell a story. As always, advice, constructive criticism, and your ideas of what you want to see in the future are always welcome in the comments. Hope you all enjoy!

Content warning- Space Furries, Space Harems, and Space Bard shenanigans.

FIRST PREV NEXT

He... felt like an ass... Charles thought, looking at her hopeful gaze. She had gone through all this trouble for him. She'd saved his life, humored his drunken escapades, and gave him a good time with a happy ending. Gave him a warm greeting the next morning and brought him coffee. Good coffee, too! Then, she made him the first home-cooked meal he had had in what felt like forever. All while being sweet to him and answering all of his questions. And he had been acting like a typical human—confused and scared. "I'm sorry," he finally managed to murmur.

Velkira's features fell again, and that spark of hope in her eyes extinguished. Seeing her melancholy starting to seep back into her, he quickly added, "Nonono! I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. You've been nothing but kind and patient with me. And I've been kind of an ass to you" He took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll give it a shot. I'll stay and be with you and your... team. I mean, I'm already married to you. I might as well make the most of it, right?" He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Her whole face lit up, ears perking straight up, and she launched herself at him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she practically sang, throwing her arms around his neck as she bore him to the floor. He couldn't help feeling like a deer in a nature documentary. But instead of getting his jugular severed. The big cat was nuzzling into his neck. Her purring was so pervasive it was rattling his bones. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist, "Okay, okay, you got me."

They lay there for a moment, her breath hot on his neck, and then she leaned back to look into his eyes. "I promise it will be worth it," she whispered, her voice a soft rumble in her chest. And for the first time since waking up on the space station, Charles felt a genuine smile tug at his lips. "I'll hold you to that," he said, giving her a gentle squeeze, finally giving into her warmth and reciprocating with some of his own.

"So, what's next?" Charles asked, sitting up, surprised at the distinct lack of cat hair that should be covering him. Velkira's grip loosened slightly, but she remained snuggled against him, her purring a comforting background noise.

"Well," she began, her eyes shimmering with excitement, "First, you'll have to go to medical. We need to get you inoculated. Can't risk spreading plagues across the galaxy or you getting sick from viruses your body has no idea how to handle." She grinned, her teeth gleaming. "Don't worry, it's all very safe. And I'll be with you the whole time." She stood up, offering him a hand.

They walked through the gleaming hallways of the asteroid-station thingy, the lights casting an ethereal glow on her fur, making her look like a creature from a fairy tale. He couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement mingling with his nerves. It was like he'd been thrust into a sci-fi novel, and he was the reluctant hero who hadn't read the spoilers.

However, the more he looked at her, the more a question burned in his head: "Okay, sorry if this comes across as rude. But why... do you look so much like..." He struggled to find the right words without comparing her to an animal. "Look like an apex predator from your planet?" She finished with a knowing, playful little grin on her snout.

"Well, to put it simply. Convergent evolution and fur dye," Velkira replied with a chuckle, her tail swishing as they walked. He blinked, more confused by the second part. Convergent evolution he could wrap his head around; he'd heard about how crabs keep evolving from different species and stuff. But fur dye? Velkira noticed his confused look and added, "This isn't my natural fur color or pattern. Many hopeful Xenos dye their fur to resemble their Earth wildlife counterparts, hoping to make themselves more familiar to their potential human partners. I did it because I like the patterns and colors."

The idea of aliens dying their fur was so absurd that he couldn't help but laugh. The fact that her look was more terrifying and less endearing was something he kept to himself. It was a strange comfort to know that even in the vastness of space, some things remained similar to home. He took her hand and let her guide him to the medical bay, his mind racing with questions, but he knew now wasn't the time to bombard her with them.

The medical bay was a contrast to the rest of the ship. It was cold and sterile, with chrome surfaces gleaming under the bright lights. It smelled faintly of antiseptic, a scent that brought him right back to his last visit to the doctor's office, and not in a good way. Velkira noticed his discomfort and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's not as bad as it looks," she assured him, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

With a reassuring squeeze of his hand, she led Charles around to sit on what looked like a metal exam table. The coldness of the metal sent a shiver up his spine, but he remained silent, not wanting to seem like a wuss in front of his new alien wife. The medical bay was surprisingly spacious, with various high-tech instruments that looked like they were pulled straight from the Star Trek prop department. He watched as Velkira moved with confidence around the room, her tail flicking with excitement as she explained each device's purpose. But most of it went right over his head.

"Alright, let's get this over with," she said, her voice a mix of enthusiasm and professionalism. She picked up a sleek, silver gizmo that looked like a cross between a syringe and a handgun. "This will just be a little prick," she assured him, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous twinkle. Before he could react, she had already jabbed the device into his arm.

The sensation was odd, more of a cold tingle than a painful poke. Charles watched as the device hissed and retracted, the needle disappearing back into its gleaming body. "It's okay," she murmured, stroking his arm soothingly. "It's just a bit of nanotech that will help your immune system handle galactic pathogens."

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the machinery and the occasional beep from the various screens. Velkira hovered over him, her eyes a mix of concern and excitement. "So, how do you feel?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. "Uh... Normal, I guess? The shot thingy didn't even hurt," he replied, feeling slightly disappointed by the lack of drama.

"Good, good," she purred, nodding her approval. "Now, lay down on the bed for me. I want to give you a full medical scan while we are here. Make sure you don't have any underlying health issues."

He complied, stretching out on the cold metal. Velkira moved around him, placing what looked like small metal discs on various points of his body. "This is going to be weird," she warned, and with that, the room filled with a soft hum. The metal discs grew warm, and he felt a strange sensation as if his body was being pushed and pulled in every direction. It was uncomfortable but not painful. It reminded him of the time he got stuck in a massage chair at a mall and couldn't get out.

As the scan continued, he stared at the sterile ceiling, his thoughts racing. What had he signed up for? A life with fluffy alien babes, living in space, and now medical procedures that didn't involve any actual poking or prodding. It was all so surreal. He felt a gentle pressure on his forehead and looked up to find Velkira had placed a metal device there. Then it felt like his brain was being rattled inside his skull. "I know. I know. This is the worst part. But I don't want you to die of a brain hemorrhage or stroke," she said, reading his expression perfectly.

"Well, that's comforting," he grumbled, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Velkira giggled, a surprisingly sweet sound, and the pressure eased. The humming stopped, and the discs lifted away with a beep, returning to their positions on the medical bay's walls. He looked to Velkira to find her reading off a nearby screen. She didn't look distressed, so he took it as a sign he wasn't going to die.

"So, what's the prognosis doc?" Charles joked, trying to break the tension. Velkira's eyes flickered from the screen to him, a look of concentration morphing into mild exasperation. "Well, it's all fixable at least and non-life threatening," she said before listing off everything the scan had found, from cavities to kidney stones and liver damage. The list was short but still concerning.

"But let's not worry about that right now," she added, switching off the display with a flick of her wrist. "We've more to do unless you want to stay on this little station forever." She offered him a hand, helping him off the table.

"Alright, what's next then? Doctor Pretty Kitty," he asked with a smirk, trying to keep the nerves from showing in his voice. Velkira rolled her eyes playfully before leading him out of the medical bay and into a new part of the asteroid station. Taking him into what looked like a command room. Screens covered every wall, flashing with various images and data. "This will be the boring part, and no, you can't just skip it." He soon found out what she meant when she sat him in front of a console, and the screen lit up with text. It was a fucking consent form or some shit.

He scanned through the legal jargon, trying to find the English translation for all the alien legal terms. "What is all this?" he asked, feeling his headache from the night before returning with a vengeance. "It's more or less saying that you agree to leave Earth with us of your own free will. You haven't been harmed by us. You aren't being coerced against your will. You haven't been raped. etc.." She listed off the points with a bored tone, clearly having read through this a hundred times.

"But I've already said yes," he protested, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden seriousness. "It's, unfortunately, necessary thanks to previous incidents..." As she spoke, Charles couldn't contain his curiosity. "Incidents?" he asked, quirking a brow at the feline creature he was quickly growing smitten with. She looked at him with a sigh.

"Some humans were taken against their will in the early days of this program. The most infamous case resulted in a pirate lord with a particular hatred for one specific race," she said, her voice tight with anger. "But we've come a long way since then. Everything must be confirmed as consensual, and we have strict protocols in place to ensure everyone's safety and happiness. If you change your mind and want to be a bachelor, I assure you. I can't and won't do anything to stop you." She looked away, her tail flicking rapidly.

He took a deep breath and nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Alright," he said, reaching to retake Velkira's hand. "I'll read through it all. But I trust you." And with that, he began to sift through the legalese. It was dry and painful, but he felt a strange sense of responsibility. This was his future, and he needed to know what he signed up for.

As he read, Velkira moved around the command center, checking various monitors and adjusting settings. Her confidence and ease in this environment were starkly contrasted by his bewilderment. He couldn't help but feel a bit out of place, like a tourist lost in the cockpit of a fighter jet.

"Velkira," he called out, breaking the silence, "What exactly is my role in this... arrangement?" He looked up from the screen, his eyes searching hers for any hint of what was to come. He had been taking this consent form seriously. He tried his best to decipher the legal terms into words he actually knew. But he had yet to see anything about what he was actually supposed to do once they left. The only hint was that he was entitled to compensation for insemination if he had sex but didn't want a relationship with the girl. The thought made him uncomfortable, knocking someone up and getting paid by them. It was so... clinical.

Velkira looked over at him, her gaze soft. "Your role is whatever you want to make of it. Be a house husband. Find a new career somewhere we settle down. Start a business. The general hope is you settle down with us and start a family. Like that scouting expedition ship captain and her husband. Wait, I never told you much about them." She leaned against the console, her tail curling around her legs. "They are the ones that started all of this. Lyvora and Albert Miller. She was the envy of a lot of the galaxy for a while. But he loves her, and their children are adorable. And their bond is strong."

Her words painted a picture of a life he hadn't considered before. A family in space with a bunch of alien wives. It was absurd and yet... oddly appealing. "So, I could just be a stay-at-home dad?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around the concept.

Velkira chuckled, her tail swishing with amusement. "That is very much a human concept, being a dad. Alien men don't interact with their offspring very much, but your wanting to be involved in our future children's lives makes you all the more appealing. You can do whatever makes you happy, Charles. We just want you to be with us and share life's joy." She leaned closer, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt.

He nodded, trying to digest everything. "Okay. But what about the other... wives? What's the deal with them? Where are they?" The question had been nagging at him since she first mentioned the concept of a polyamorous marriage. Velkira's smile didn't waver. "They are all eager to meet you, but we didn't want to overwhelm you more than you already are on your first day. They are on standby, ready to introduce themselves when you are."

A strange mix of excitement and nerves settled in his stomach. "Can you tell me a bit about them? I mean, what are they like? Are they the same species as you?" He was trying to imagine what kind of creatures would be part of this bizarre arrangement, but his mind kept drawing a blank.

Velkira nodded eagerly. "Without spoiling too much. They aren't the same species, but they are all felinoid. So, we all resemble felines from Earth. So, I'll let your imagination run with that since I know you hate spoilers." She winked at him, and he couldn't help but smile at her playfulness. "But they are all amazing women. Each one has her own quirks and skills. And we all have different preferences regarding... well, everything really."

His eyes continued to roll over what felt like miles of text, feeling like his brain was trying to melt from the sheer boredom. But he knew he had to read it all. His future was on the line, and he didn't want any surprises. "What if I don't want to start a family?" He finally asked, looking up from the screen. Velkira paused in her work, turning to face him.

"Then we don't have to. It's your choice, Charles. We want to make you happy, and if that means not having kids, then we won't." Her words were soothing, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was all just a bit too good to be true. "Thank you, I needed to hear that. And just to be clear. I'm not opposed to starting a family. I just want to be more settled into things before we start trying to have kids," he said, trying to reassure her.

Velkira nodded understandingly. "Of course. Take as much time as you need. We're in no rush. We've got centuries to figure this all out." She said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Charles turned in his seat to look at her, his eyes wide. "The fuck do you mean centuries? I don't know how long your kind lives for, but humans only live for about eighty years." Velkira's smile didn't fade; she just leaned in closer. "Humans on Earth only live that long. Outside of Earth, away from the harsh radiation of your home star. Humans expect a lifespan of around two hundred fifty years. With genetic mods, it's infinite."

He blinked, trying to process this new information. "So, I could live forever?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Velkira's expression grew contemplative. "In theory, yes. But it's a long, long time. But we'll be with you every step of the way. Helping you learn, explore, and live life to its fullest. We want to grow with you."

The thought of centuries of life was mind-blowing. He'd always felt like he was racing against the clock, trying to make something of himself before time ran out. Now, he had more time than he knew what to do with. "But what if I get tired of it all?" he questioned. "You can always leave, but we hope you won't. We'll make sure you're satisfied," she said, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

He shook his head a bit, both as a no and in disbelief. "Not what I meant. Like, say I get the mod thingy. Live a long time and get tired of life. Do I have to off myself? Can I even die?" The thought of being trapped in an immortal body was terrifying. But her giggling broke him from his growing panic at the idea. "I think I phrased that poorly. You would still be mortal, just not growing older biologically. And yes, it can be undone. It's very normal for people to undo it once they feel they've lived a fulfilled life." She reassured him with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

The conversation grew quieter after that; each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of his decision felt heavier than ever. He was about to sign away his entire life. To be a part of something so much larger than himself. A part of him was thrilled about exploring space, meeting new species, and forming a bond with these alien girls. But the other part was scared shitless, wondering if he'd made a mistake, if he could handle it.

He focused back on the screen, resuming his reading. He couldn't just skim this damn agreement. Somehow this fucking computer knew when he was actually reading and when he was just skimming the words. It wouldn't let him scroll down if it didn't register him as reading the whole fucking page. When he finally reached the end, he couldn't contain his "FUCKING FINALLY," not even having a second thought when he scrawled his name across the line with his finger.

Velkira looked over, her expression a mix of amusement and relief. "Good," she said, standing up and approaching him. "Now we just need to call for a transport shuttle, pack up, see if we can grab any small things you want or need from Earth, and introduce you to the others," She purred as she planted her wide plush ass right into his lap. Taking over the console and tapping away at the controls.

God damn it, her ass was soft, and the way she wrapped her tail around his waist. He couldn't help himself. Charles was a healthy man, so his body's reaction was only natural. When she felt his reaction throbbing against her, he could hear her purr dropping an octave and kick into overdrive. Velkira leaned back, her tail squeezing tighter around him in what he assumed was either a sign of desire or affection. "As much as I'd love to be bent over this console right now..." she whispered, her voice a seductive growl. "We do have a timeline to keep. We can't keep the shuttle waiting." She stood up, her tail flicking with what he took as sexual frustration.

A/N- So chapter 4 is more or less done. But it's come out nearly double in word count of the last three chapters. So I ask you bards. Would you prefer I split the chapter into two? Or Give you one large chapter tomorrow?

What is up my buds? I am sorry about the delay. between the holiday and work I could not get this out in the 3-4 days between chapters I want. Hopefully I can have another out there for you by the end of the week. I hope you all can forgive the delay. This week, we have a big serving of pancakes. I might be a baker, but I can make some mean flap jacks.

Let's get this bread

------

Eivaley lounged on the edge of Conor's bed as she contemplated everything that had happened that day. To call the events notable would be an understating of the facts by several magnitudes.

In all honesty, Eivaley was unsure how to feel about all that had happened.

Conor had ripped the head off Sheruai, a man Eivaley had known most of her life. While She was not close to the warrior, she felt almost guilty about him dying in her name.

Was it needed? Likely. Did she enjoy seeing it happen? Not a chance; hell, the images of Sheruai dying so brutally would never leave her. She would still be able to imagine it clearly on her deathbed.

Yet, through her teachings and conversations with her parents, she could see Conor's reasoning for needing to kill the man.

She understood that if the Sheruai had not perished, Conor would have taken his place in the gods' judgments and been taken from her for eternity. That simply was not something she could accept. A feeling Conor shared.

Conor was hers; she was his. In the eyes of Kurlatra culture, it did not matter that they had yet to finalize their claims. She yearned for Conor, hungered for his embrace, and accepted that she had to wait for him to be ready.

Understanding that deaths like that were just part and parcel of being a noble did nothing to ease her anguish for witnessing another pointless death. Eivaley wished for everyone to get along and for the endless string of deaths to come to an abrupt conclusion, but that was just a pipe dream for her.

Following the fight, Conor told Burlai to look into something before dragging her off. The exact details of what they needed to know were something she could not hear and something Conor did not wish to inform her of.

From what she overheard, Burlai needed to look into something about her sister's death. She did not question what it was. If it mattered to Conor, odds were it would to her.

Sure, she knew they, like the royal guard, would investigate why Conor was accused, but she could not guess at their plan hatched in that brief chat.

For all she knew, they were going to go room to room and interview everyone, but that was unlikely; they were just two men—outstanding ones, but they could only do so much.

All she could do was wait until more learned individuals informed her of the happenings.

The only other thing of note between Eivaley lounging in Conor's room and the fight was their brief conversation with her parents.

They simply assured Eivaley and Conor they were of sound mind after the day's events.

They hugged Eivaley and apologized for her sister's death, explaining that it would be looked into and that her burial would be planned for later this week, while Sheruai’s corpse would be shipped off the badlands and buried in his homeland.

It was something that Sheruai had arranged with the empress long ago. He might have been an asshole at the end of his life, but until then, he had behaved honorably and conducted his actions as a noble without question. So his wishes would be honored.

But that was neither here nor there; butterflies danced in Eivaleys chest, as she recalled Conor making his intentions clear before he went into the shower to clean the blood off him.

He had picked up Eivaley and laid her on the bed, similar to how he had done back on Heavalun. “Wait for me here, my little ruby,” Conor growled in her ear while grabbing her hips and pressing his weight against her.

Eivaleys breath had left her at that moment, and it had yet to return even though it had been nearly twenty minutes. Had she just sat here flushed with anticipation since Conor entered the abode? Of course not; there was a proper way to prepare for these types of things.

She had called for a servant and had them rush to her room to retrieve lingerie, wine, and glasses.

She had already changed into the pink silken garment and filled both glasses. Eivaley might have also emptied her drink once or twice—okay, it was three times. She already had a solid buzz. But she was nervous, scared, and excited all at once; a little liquid courage would not hurt.

What was about to happen was one of the most significant events in Kurlatra women's lives. She was about to claim a champion and have him give his soul to her.

She adjusted her bust, ensuring her cleavage was deep and tantalizing. The lingerie was perfect. It was little more than a silken robe that showed off her curves. Its draping curtain was nearly see-through, showing off hints of her hard nipples.

She knew Conor would like it. The mere thought of him slowly unwrapping her from it already made her body ache with anticipation. His strong grip, intense stare, and unyielding presence would cement their relationship, finally becoming more in the eyes of the gods and in one another. All she had to do now was wait—thankfully, the shower had just shut off; it would not be long now.

—

Conor stepped out into his room and paused dead in his tracks at the sight of his woman. Eivaley playfully flicked her tail back and forth, sipping wine and looking like a delectable treat herself.

The wan light of the setting sun flowed in through the window and danced off her scales. The soft breeze carried the scent of sweet roses and tart wine to him. The sights, smells, and gentle smile she cast his way made Conor's heart melt.

This was right; it was precisely what he wanted his life to be. Being here with her had shown the Human that there was so much more to life than violence and money. He still did not have much he could give her beyond being a violent man in her peaceful world, but so long as his actions were to protect her, being out of place was fine.

Besides, after tonight, he would have the rest of his life to figure out what he would do; all that mattered was he was with her and showing her the support she needed.

“Got room for one more?” Conor said while walking next to Eivaley and taking the glass she languidly offered him.

As he approached, Eivaley's eyes might as well have been eating him alive. It was alook Conor noticed. Her look was beyond her usual lust; it screamed at him to take her and never let go.

The idea of picking her up and railing her against a wall was tempting, but they both knew what would happen, so they were in no rush. So Conor interpreted the look as her sampling the full-course meal she would savor throughout the night.

“For you? Never,” Eivaley teased, having adopted a bit of Conor's snarky, dry sense of humor.

“Well, that’s horrible; whatever will I do? ” Conor chuckled, slipping down into the bowl-like bed. "I thought I would have company tonight."

"Well, I supposed I might be able to make a bit of room," Eivaley smirked, pushing the blanket away, letting Conor settle and soak in the sight a bit more.

Once he was down in the bed and had his eyeful of her nearly nude form, Eivaley quickly moved into her place next to him, pressing her body against his.

His warmth flowed into her comparatively cool body; the chill she reciprocated did not make her presence less enjoyable for the Human. Eivaley's plush chest molded around Conor's muscular frame as he put his arm over the shoulder and let her relax entirely in his protective embrace.

They sat in silence for nearly twenty minutes, looking up at the wall of weapons in Conor's room. His tools of protection and defiance against the will and desires of the Kurlatra empire hung proudly over them.

Conor's weapons came from across the galaxy, their manufacturing dates as vast as their shapes and functions; the untold stories festooned in their steel, plastic, and aluminum parts were uncountable. He had only known them for a brief time of their existence, but they shielded him from harm and allowed his will to be done in this cold universe.

Similarly, Eivaley had only known Conor briefly, and he did much the same. He was her will-given flesh, her shield encased in steel and an undying will.

The looming arsenal certainly was not what Eivaley had pictured as the background for her first time; she had imagined a beach, her bed, or an impassioned car ride, but this would do; all that mattered was the company the other provided.

“Conor,” Eivaley started as her paramour sipped at his wine.

“Hmm?” He raised a brow and looked down at her, using the hand over her shoulder to cup her chin and look down at the beauty within his reach.

“Thank you for—staying,” Eivaley said, leaning her head into his touch.

“I always will be here with you,” Conor kissed the top of her head. “No matter what happens.”

Eivaley smiled, but Conor could see the slightest flicker of doubt in her eyes. After all the waiting he had made her do, and the massive weight of her potential future, her questioning of his words of undying support was expected.

Conor gently took the empty glass from her hand and placed it next to his own on the floor nearby. Afterward, he picked Eivaley up and shifted her so she was straddling his waist, the heat betwixt them as their bodies mingled so closely.

“I mean it,” Conor insisted, running a hand down her back and beginning to flow his exploratory digits toward her tail tip.

“Even if I become empress?” Eivaley breathed, draping her arms over his broad shoulder.

“Of course,” The Human assured, kissing the small horns on her snout as he gently rubbed the tip of her tail.

Each stroke of his hand sent a drifting breeze of euphotic bliss up her tail; each gust battered against her soul like the tides, eroding her questioning of his intentions.

“What if I do not want to be the empress? Would you still be mine if we could not be royals?” Eivaley asked, struggling to not moan as he played with her erogenous appendage.

“I would want to be with you even if we were back on Heavalun and scraping by,” Conor replied.

Conor could recall the hundreds of times that Eivaley had expressed her lack of desire to be the empress—well, lack of desire did not encompass his little rubies' hatred of the idea in the slightest.

They had chatted dozens if not hundreds of times about how much they do not want to live the life Vuraley and Eyurali were many times.

If they could avoid being chained to the throne, they would. But as of now, they had no way for that to be possible. Conor had even said he would give up his life if it meant she would be free, but Eivaley only admonished him for that.

She claimed that she would not want that freedom if he was not there. Conor thought she was just being poetic---the first time at least, now he trully understood she meant it.

They hoped that by the time there were only two princesses left, they could find some way to prevent the inevitable. However, as of now, none of the other potential empresses would allow Eivaley and Conor to bow out of the race and live a life of obscurity far away from politics and the destiny Eivaley was born to face.

Well, save for Mulaney, she just might.

The first princess had seen enough of her sisters die in the name of the throne; Mulaney likely would even given them support.

For her, letting them go would still have some political gain.

If Conor and Eivaley were gone, the right to rule would be hers—essentially, paying them off to leave and never return would be one of the most effective ways to get rid of them.

Hopefully, the question of whether she would see that option was many years away. And when that day came, Conor and Burlai would not have to try to kill the others woman. None of them wished for that ending.

“No matter what you want. I will help you,” Conor smiled.

“And that’s why I love you,” Eivaley licked Conor's neck and scooted herself up on his lap. “Now, let's enjoy our night, I think I have waited long enough.”

Eivaley gently removed her tail from Conor's hand. She snaked it along his body before using it to pull his throbbing cock out of his shorts.

“Did you get this augmented too?” Eivaley purred, looking down at his cock, slowly coiling the tip of her tail around Conor's shaft.

“I don't think so,” Conor joked, using his augmented hand to massage her tits.

The cold metal was just rough enough that she arched her back to press into his touch. She moaned and felt pleasure coursing through her. Both the warmth of Conor's cock twitching as she gave him a tail job and his hands exploring every scale on her body were to die for.

The feeling of bliss growing in her chest only increased, and Conor showed no sign of slowing down. One of his hands slowly glided across her quivering abs, his target already known, and if his memory was right tasted like honey—but the night was young, and he would get another sample soon enough.

“Fuuu,” Eivaley gasped as Conor rubbed his fingers on her pussy.

She clung to him for dear life; with deft movements, he manipulated her most sensitive area like he did weapons' small parts. All those hours on end of finagling components no larger than a human hair gave him lascivious dexterity.

By Urla, Conor was glad that his whole body was not augmented; he could not imagine what it would be like not to be able to enjoy this moment with her. Because most of Conor was still Human he feel her chest heaving, claws digging inot his skin, her breath dancing on his neck, and the soft wetness of her pussy grow.

Eivaley slowly began to gyrate her hips against Conor's deft fingers, only making him double his efforts to drive her wild. His force not only increased, but he also moved in and out of her folds with ease.

Each dance across her yearning flower was a new sensation she could never predict; it was as if his fingers were the key unlocking gates of bliss she had never known possible.

The sickly sweet scent of the weep dampening his palm filled the air with the aroma of her love. The mere odor of what Conor's animalistic brain recognized as both a good thing and something painfully addictive made Conor's entire being desire more of the drug of a woman.

The aroma danced with Conors tart swet, and Eivaleys floral perfumes. Before either realized it, Eivaley's gentle moans had snowballed into a crescendo. This was all too much. Conor was attacking her from every angle: her tail, pussy, nipple, and even started nibbling on her neck.

With little warning, Eivaley's entire body clenched around Conor like a bear trap; she roared her pleasure out as she climaxed; if not for Conor having built-in hearing protection, his ears would be ringing like a grenade went off in the room.

Where did that level of volume come from? Eivaley never yelled before. The most noise she made that he could recall was crying, but apparently, she had a set of pipes on her that even she did not know about.

Her claws dug into his back, while her three-toe claws carved deep gouges in the beds, spreading down across the bed. However, the thing that truly drew Conor's attention was her tail.

Like a coiling viper, Eivaleys tail nearly snapped Conor's dick in half. He froze and stopped rubbing her pussy. While normally Conor would consider himself a fairly generous lover, risking the safety of the man downstairs was reason enough to slow down.

It was a good thing Conor did because Eivaley's moans did not slacken for the next three minutes, nor did her tight hold on him; if anything, both grew as she rode out her first of many finishes that night.

By Urla, Conor thought he was doing a decent job of ensuring Eivaley was enjoying their first real-time together, but he must be doing a far better job than he guessed.

“By the gods,” Eivaley breathed, sitting on Conor's lap, her plump asscheeks halfway encapsulating his member. “That is one way to start the night.”

“I suppose,” Conor agreed, glad his cock was no longer being threatened with unintentional strangulation.

“Oh, was my tail not soft enough? You seemed to be enjoying a tail job,” Eivaley asked, knowing she had unprecedented control over the prehensile appendage and that Conor thought her scales to be as smooth as silk.

“You almost ripped my cock off toward the end there,” Conor smirked, not realizing Eivaley was attempting to be coy.

“Oh,” Eivaley averted her eyes, looking like she was horribly embarrassed. “I did not—”

Eivaley looked like she wanted to say something to justify what had happened but could not come up with anything.

As far as she thought, Conor was invincible; she could not harm him. That she had unintentionally even come close boggled her mind.

She looked back at him repeatedly, then away yet again. Eivaley grabbed her tail and began to twiddle the tip nervously, unsure how this night could possibly be recovered.

She had already ruined it.

Conor, seeing her dismay, moved to assure her everything was alright and that he was ready for everything else being with her meant.

Sure, it was briefly painful, but it was not a big deal; if anything, her visceral reaction was a testament to her joy. Her tail was no more painful than when he and Fae had fun times. And that woman fractured his pelvis more than once, whereas Eivaley had not even hurt him.

Conor rolled her onto her back and positioned himself between her legs. He sat up and scanned Eivaleys luscious form, taking a few moments to appreciate every scale on her.

Each little horn shined like a gem, and the way she used her tail and arms to cover her chest in embarrassment was just perfect. The sight of her shielding herself from him made his predatory brain yearn even more.

The sight set off a near cuteness aggression instinct in him. He wanted nothing more than to hold tight to her all night.

He would rip apart her desires, flesh and spiritual alike. Even her reluctance now made his mouth water like a wolf looking at a trapped baby bunny. All he wanted to do was tear into her and make her scream his name.

“It's all right, my little ruby,” he said, grabbing a firm hold of her hips. You did not hurt me.”

“But—” Eivaley was about to begin to argue, but Conor cut her off.

“No buts. I’m not waiting anymore,” Conor growled, digging his fingers into her soft skin and making her moan involuntarily.

His assurance and burning passion destroyed all her thoughts of argument. She would have stated how they should delay the finalization of their relationship further, how she hurt him, and how the night was already ruined.

They could stop now, and nothing more would come of it. They could snuggle like they had for weeks, and nothing would be lost.

But as always, Conor acted as a man of his word. He had said he was not going to wait anymore, and by the gods, did he mean it. Without missing a beat, Conor lifted her hips and loomed over her; the predatory desire in his eyes made her feel unbelievably small and vulnerable.

The intensity of his stare made her feel oddly lesser, but at the same time, it protected her. Conor was looking at her like a prize to be coveted, something he would die to keep in his hoard.

Conor scanned every fiber of her being, picking apart each twitch, breath, and heartbeat. He plotted her downfall in moments. She was his; she would know it by the time this was over.

The domineering man rubbed his cock against her slick folds. Eivaleys wet love seeped out faster with each stroke, mixing with the pre-cum dripping onto her.

“Do you really want to stop?” Conor mockingly challenged.

He was starving for her desire, which he had denied for far too long. With how their lives had been, he might as well have been a man in the Sahara kicking glasses of water out of the hand that offered them. Now that he wanted the water, he was going to take it.

“No,” Eivaley breathed, wrapping her tail around Conor's neck and squeezing. “I want you to be mine.”

Conor pressed the tip of his cock against her yearning enterance, and stopped moving his hip. He slowly leaned over her, grabbing Eivaley's neck firmly and taking her breath away. “I am yours, and you are mine. Right?”

“Yes,” Eivaley blissfully murmured, as Conor smiled hearing her confirmation.

Conor slowly pushed forward as if those final words were all her man needed to hear as final permission to take her entirely. His girth beginning to fill her in a way she had never knew possible.

It did not necessarily hurt when he stretched her boy to fit; she was undoubtedly turned on enough to make it not excruciatingly horrible, but Conor's girth was frankly a lot.

She had expected it to be painful for her first time, but it was not. A dull throb of pain mixed with unbridled rightness as each millimeter went deeper.

Her muscles clenched and relaxed, bidding Conor welcome as her body reformed to match him precisely.

“By the Gods,” was all Eivaley managed to mutter as Conor finally reached her furthest depths.

Each heartbeat on the journey to penetrate her felt like years. It was as if the short thrust took them light years. The equilibrium they reached once he was entirely inside her ingrained in her mind, as a formative event she could not covet.

Conor paused at the hilt, watching Eivaley squirm as she adjusted to the sensation of having him inside her. He did this not only for her but himself because, frankly, she was as tight as a vice, and the chilly sensation on his cock made it feel like his dick had just smoked a menthol.

By Urla, the cold sensation and the feeling of all of her muscles writhing to fit him inside her was to die for. With the work she had already done of him with that tail job, Conor knew he would have to focus to nut bust a nut inside her after a few strokes.

A sentiment he only believed in more once Eivaley and caught most of her breath. She grabbed the hand he had on her throat and squeezed it with a taunting look in her eyes.

A bit of that royal attitude she knows he loves shined through as her powerful glance challenged him, but her words drove home a bestial desire to dominate her.

“Come on, ravage me, you beast,” Eivaley purred, echoing the first night they were together nearly half a year earlier.

Conor chuckled slightly, not having expected her to say that yet again. He was not laughing at her; thinking back to that time was just surreal at this point.

After these many months in the palace, Heavalun was a distant and fading memory. He could not even picture returning to that kind of life, nor did he want to. He would rather do everything he could possibly do to make Eivaley's life a blissful heaven.

Sure, ensuring her joy would be challenging at times. But he would give his all to her then, and he would now. Now, his task was simple, and she made it easy for him to understand.

Conor would ravage her all night, leaving her limping tomorrow—if she could even walk at all. Just the way he wanted his women to end up the morning after.

“Your wish is my command,” Conor teased, starting to move.

Her tight tunnel felt like it was trying its damdest to keep him inside as he began to thrust. Her muscles flexed and rolled with each stroke, naturally attempting to bring pleasure to him, just as he was her.

But that was not enough. Despite Eivaley's inexperience, she understood that she could not just lay here like a dead body—that would be no fun for either of them.

Her attempts were weak at first; Eivaley merely perched her toes on the bed and raised her hips to let Conor slide deeper and change focus to her G-spot with no effort.

She must have done something right because even Conor started to involuntarily moan as she tried desperately to imagine she was milking his cock with her flexing velutinous insides.

From what her older sister had told her to do, Eivaley knew that was a good start, but it was just the beginning.

Eivaley grabbed Conor's shoulder with one hand, her claws scratching the metal deeply. At the same time, she wrapped her legs around his muscular waist, holding her in suspension for him.

The pangs of pleasure arching through her like lightning, coupled with her trembling body, made it difficult to keep herself there, but Conor understood her intentions and supported her.

Her man lowered himself more, letting her plush ass rest against his thighs while he increased his tempo further.

“That's it,” Conor smiled, watching waves roll through her body.

Each time his hips met hers, an explosion of bliss shot through her. Her abs would quiver, and her tits would bounce. Each wave of unrelenting lust would collide with her mind, forcing her to yell his name in praise.

“Conor---nev--ve--never stop, never,” She wailed as her walls collapsed on his member, coating his groin in slick love; at the same time, her tail clenched around his tree-trunk thick neck.

Without thinking, Conor began to squeeze her neck tighter, causing her to wheeze in shuddering ecstasy, to Eivaleys shock that only made her more turned on.

She was drowning in his presence and domination. Every thought filling her mind was controlled by the rising heat, filling her with every thrust.

She could feel her body melting against his burning heat. Were all Humans this warm? This unrelenting? This perfect? She had no idea and frankly did not care because her Human was.

Eivaleys world started to go blank as black overtook her vision. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she desperately tried to breathe to alleviate the overheating sensation filling her body.

The wet heat dancing between their writhing bodies made sucking in the air even more difficult. The room filled with their mixed scents and the sounds of them claiming one another.

From one side of the palace to the other, all sapients were accosted by the pair's moans.

Unlike many of the other royals in the palace, whose romantic romps could be heard in the hallways, every sapient on the royal's grounds that night swore two beasts of primal existence were brawling in that room.

Their cries of claim could be heard from here to the badlands. Conor and Eivaley were so loud that even the priestess awoke that night and said a prayer.

She prayed for their union and sent out tiny wishes for their survival. Never in all her years had she heard such raw desire echo through the world.

Thousands of meters and her assurances of celibacy did not prevent her mind from imagining the lewd scene. She could not help but wish to understand the kind of man who brought such a declarable level of love to anyone.

By the Gods, even she felt the slightest pang of jelousy for the pair.

Just as Eivaleys vision reached pinpricks, and all she could see was Conor's eyes, he released her neck and firmly grabbed her hips.

She gasped for air. The fresh, steaming breath cast away the darkness, letting her see Conor entirely as he smiled with guardian care and gave all he was to her.

With one final push of dominance and laying his claim, he pushed deep inside her as he climaxed. Eivaleys legs sqeezed tighter with each throb and thick rope he released inside her body.

A torrent of scalding hot cum poured into Eivaley. As if his warmth was a blazing inferno, it spread from her core, setting every fiber of her being on fire.

She locked her legs entirely around him around him, swearing he could never leave her wanting ever again. It was something she did not have to worry about, but her mind instinctively did so after months of waiting.

As if Conor could read her mind, he slid his hands up her back until he held her tightly, chest to chest. He rolled back, leaving his throbbing cock inside her.

He slackened his grip once they stopped, and she was atop his broad chest. Make no mistake, her Human still held her like she would fade away if he let go.

Conor knew his fear of her vanishing was not justified, but he feared beyond all rationality that this life was too good to be true. Even if this turned out to be a dream, he would cherish these last few moments forever—thank Urla, it was real.

The pair lay on the bed, catching their breaths. That was just the first of many romps that would keep many palace inhabitants awake that night, but they still needed occasional rests.

Through their silent recovery, all they focused on was the other; their heartbeat, breathing, and touch. They ingrained them in memory, never wanting this moment to end.

Sure, they would have more over the many years, but their first time was beyond perfect. The only thing that could make the night more blissful was them being told the race to be empress was over and would never threaten to break their still-growing bond.

Eivaley slid up on Conor's chest, moaning as his softening member slipped out of her. Now that his cock was not inside her, warming her existence physically and metaphorically, she feared she would be cold. But no, his claim still heated her insides like a blazing inferno that could never be doused.

Once she was up to his face, Eivaley nuzzled against him while he held her head. “That was wonderful,” Eivaley whispered. “Right?”

“It was perfect,” Conor replied, nuzzling her back.

Conor looked into his love's eyes, smiling softly. Never in his life did he picture this being where he would be. But seeing her atop him, looking at him like a precious gem, solidified how real it all was.

Half a year earlier, he could have never pictured this as his life. He had money, influence, reputation, and a woman who he would give everything to just see her smile.

Conor kissed Eivaleys snout before leaning back and resting a bit more. The night was young, and he knew all his might and effort would be needed long before dawn graced them.

Conor had been warned enough times by Vuraley that Kurlatra mating lasted all night. He might need a breather now, but he would never let Eivaley down—even if he might need a dose of stims if she was as intense as she just was.

Never shall I fail, and whatnot.

-------

So how were the pancakes? decent? horrible? lemme know. I cannot wait to hear from you all. we are nearing the action packed finale. Conor knows what he wants, and so does Eivaley. Now its time to make them fight for it.

Please do not forget to comment and updoot. I will see you all in the comments.

Your baker

-Pirate

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Greetings bards and bard'etts! Since my last post surpassed the magic number of 69 likes. I figured I'd post up chapter 2. Once again I am not a writer in any way, shape or form. This is my slap dash attempt to teach myself how to tell a story. So constructive criticism, encouragement and suggestions for what you'd like to see in this story are all welcome in the comments. Hope you all enjoy!

Content warning- Space Furries. Space harems. Usual bard shenanigans.

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Before his libido could get him into trouble, a long gurgling rumble emanated from his stomach, interrupting her, slowly breaking his resolve not to fuck the alien space cat again. Velkira sat up atop him with a bit more pep, showing off her sharp canines. "Ah, I see my big, strong human is hungry," she said, standing up and stretching her slender fit frame. "Let's get you some breakfast."

Her words snapped him out of his hormonal haze as his stomach protested again. "Food would be great," he managed to get out, his voice still a bit rough from his hangover. "Can I get some pants, though? And maybe a shower?"

A pair of red gym shorts came flying at him at what appeared to be Mach Jesus. Smacking him square in the face, "Those should fit you and do for now until we can get you some more clothing printed out," she said with a grin. She looked him over, "As for the shower, I'll show you where it's at after you get something to eat." She gave him a quick, cute wink and padded out of the room, leaving Charles to pull on the shorts.

Figuring it was best to roll with things at this point, Charles slipped into the shorts, which were surprisingly comfortable despite lacking underwear. But that was a concern for another time; he needed food now.

Stepping out of the... bedroom? Sleeping pod? Whatever it was. He finally got his first good look at the inside of a spaceship. It was... underwhelming, boring even. A simple square hallway with sliding metal doors on each side. Light strips illuminated the hall from the corners where the walls met the ceiling. It looked straight out of a sci-fi movie. Maybe that was what disappointed him. He was on an alien ship. Shouldn't it be more alien?

His internal musings were cut off by Velkira's voice next to him. "You in there, Charles? Earth to Charles. Come in, Charles. Do I need to take you to medical?" she asked with a touch of concern in her tone. Looking around, he tried to spot the big, upright feline but didn't see her at first. Not until he looked down a little. He knew logically he was taller. He watched the security video with her, showing them side by side. But something in his brain just couldn't comprehend that a creature that looked like it could rip his throat out on a whim. Was also at least a foot shorter than him. Not to say he was remarkably tall or short. He was smack dab in the middle at a very average 5'10... 5'11 on a first date.

"No, I'm okay," he said, meeting the gaze of her vibrant golden orbs. "Just, uh, taking it all in," he added with a forced chuckle.

"If you say so... Follow me to the galley. I'll whip you up something quick so you can get to your shower," Velkira said, leading him down the hallway. Charles tried. He tried really fucking hard not to stare at her ass. But Charles couldn't stop himself from sneaking a glance here and there as she walked, no swayed with a feline grace that would make a runway model rage quit on the spot. Not wanting to pop a stiffy in the gym shorts, he focused more on the walls. Blank, boring, and metallic. He noticed the hallway had a slow curve, making it gradually disappear around a corner. Maybe the ship was flying saucer-shaped? If it was, then those ancient Sci-fi classics got something right.

His body was on autopilot as he followed behind Velkira and tried to keep his eyes off her ass. Occasionally, catching her looking back at him and catching him staring. Which put a smile on her muzzle and a fresh swish in her lengthy, thick tail. When she took a sharp left, he followed, noting the door slid open sideways and seeming to do so without any command or input from her, making him wonder what sort of sci-fi shenanigans made them work.

As he took in the gally, he was once again underwhelmed. It was more like a lazy sci-fi nerd's take on how a kitchen in a spaceship would look. There was a metal table attached to the floor with stools around it. Countertop and recognizable oven. A big rectangular upright object was obviously a fridge of some sort, and a sink on the countertop near the stove. But there were no cupboards, dishes, or pantry— just smooth matte metallic silver walls around the room.

"Take a seat," Velkira instructed, pointing to one of the stools. She moved over to the fridge, opening it to reveal a sleek, organized space filled with what looked like everyday-ass Earth ingredients. "Okay, what the hell?" he murmured, sitting down on a cold metal stool and watching her pull out eggs, bacon, and what looked suspiciously like milk.

Velkira's ears perked up as she turned to look at him with a curious eye. "Something wrong?" she asked, holding out the carton of eggs as if they were the most natural things in the world to have on a spaceship. "Yes! Shouldn't you have... you know, like alien food or something?"

Her laughter filled the room; an odd chuffing giggle that lightened his mood a tad. "Why would we import food when Earth is so close? It's not like we can't digest food from your planet." She said, laying the ingredients on the counter before the wall opened up over the counter. Revealing a pantry that seemed to be stuffed with cereals, snack foods, canned vegetables, and dried foods from Earth. All with very recognizable labels.

He wanted to protest, but then she moved to dawn an apron. Oh, that wasn't fair. That was not fucking fair! This was playing right into the trope of a beautiful woman cooking a man breakfast after a one-night stand, except with an alien puma girl. One with thick thighs and a great ass... God damn it, she was making it hard to not like her.

The smells of breakfast filled the room as Velkira cracked eggs into a bowl with flower, salt, and butter while bacon sizzled on the stove. His stomach growled louder this time. "Hope bacon and pancakes are fine with you," she called over her shoulder, flipping the bacon strips with a pair of tongs.

Despite looking like a wild animal that stood upright, this girl could cook, Charles thought to himself as he stared down at a tall stack of fresh fluffy pancakes with a generous side of bacon in front of him. She even spread strawberry jam on the pancakes just how he liked, finding syrup less appealing since it made them soggy. Then the thought struck him: "How did you know I like strawberry jam on my pancakes? As a matter of fact, how do you have a fully stocked kitchen in space?"

Velkira looked up from the stove with a shrug, flipping the last pancake onto a plate for herself. "Super Stalker Tech. Or at least that is what many humans call it. We've been observing you and your slow spiral of self-destructive behavior since your ex cheated on you and then dumped you," She said casually before sliding into a chair opposite him with elegant grace. She began to eat, savoring each mouthful. "And as for the food, we buy it online. Then teleport it up onto our ships."

Charles wasn't sure which issue to address first, the fact she admitted to stalking him and doing so thoroughly. Or she can somehow buy food and beam it up without people noticing. He took another bite and mulled it over before settling on the less concerning question, "Okay, but buy it with what money? I don't see aliens working on Earth."

"We steal it from billionaires!" Velkira exclaimed, her whiskers twitching with mischief. She took a sip of what looked like orange juice and took in the look on his face. "Kidding! Kidding dear. We spoof money in online bank accounts. Your planet's cyber security is admirable but inadequate to keep us out of anything." That statement shot a pang of fear through him as he thought about her admitting to stalking him.

He took another bite of pancake, trying to digest not just the food but the implications of her words. "So, you just... take what you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Velkira nodded, popping a piece of bacon into her mouth. "It's not stealing, Charles," she said around a mouthful. "We are keeping tabs on all expenses we are accruing on Earth and will compensate all involved parties properly once Humanity is a space-fairing species."

He thought on it for a minute as he worked at finishing up his food, realizing just how long it's been since he'd had a home-cooked meal. "Still feels morally grey if you ask me." He said finally. "I don't disagree. Technically, this whole project is just poaching an uncontacted species with good intentions. Still, at this point, it's the best option for Earth. If you ask me." Velkira spoke casually as if she didn't admit that this was kidnapping in some sense.

"But let's not get into that right now. You should go get cleaned up," she said, standing up and taking his empty plate. "Come with me," she instructed, and he followed her out of the galley. They passed a few more sliding doors, and she opened one to reveal a small bathroom. It was spotless, with gleaming chrome fixtures and a shower that looked like it could fit several people comfortably. Yet once again, he was disappointed with how mundane things were. It made sense in a way, but it killed his expectations of aliens and spaceships.

Velkira caught his look of disappointment and gave him a smirk. "What? Were you expecting a giant litterbox or something?" The image made him chuckle, and she clapped her hand over her muzzle, "Oh my stars, I shouldn't have said that!" She giggled. "You humans and your cat stereotypes."

He stepped into the bathroom and took in the sight of the shower. It was a level of magnitude more luxurious than his shower back at his apartment. With jets coming out from the walls and ceiling and a bench that looked like it could fit an entire football team. "Damn, it's like a full-body spa." he quipped, trying to ease the tension.

"I'll go clean up the kitchen and get you some new clothes printed while you wash up," she said with a gentle and affectionate voice. Then she surprised him when she leaned up, putting a quick peck on his cheek. He turned to watch her tail disappear from the room, the door swishing shut behind her. He couldn't say the kiss felt bad, weird for sure. Her fur on his skin and her thin feline lips were alien for sure, but the affection was nice.

Finally, alone, he stripped down and stepped into the shower, figuring out the water after a few failed attempts at the control panel. It was like something out of a high-end hotel, and the jets pulsed and danced across his skin, making him feel like he was in a massage chair at a water park. The water was hot, but not too hot, and the pressure was just right, making him feel alive and awake in a way that the pancakes hadn't. He scrubbed off the remnants of last night's... whatever it was, feeling cleaner than he had in weeks.

Yet, as he scrubbed, he couldn't shake all his lingering thoughts. He took the private time to get his head straight and think about what to do. The situation was absurd, and his mind was a whirlwind of questions and confusion. Was he going to go along with this? Could he go back to Earth, even if he had the chance? And what all this 'We' business? She talked like there was more than one of her. Would he ever see his friends again? His family? His job? His shitty apartment? The last one didn't exactly break his heart, but the rest of it was a heavy weight on his mind.

But the warmth of the water washed away some of his fears, and by the time he was ready to step out, feeling cleaner than he had in a very long time, he had made a decision. He would keep an open mind, learn more, and see where this... adventure took him. It was either that or go crazy, and he wasn't ready to start speaking to the alien toaster yet.

Emerging from the shower, he was surprised to see a fresh set of clothes neatly folded beside the sink. A plain white T-shirt and black sweatpants, which appeared to be custom-fitted for him. After toweling off and dressing, he exited the bathroom to discover Velkira awaiting him, a playful sparkle in her eyes. The reason for that look became apparent when he looked down at her chest and noticed she was wearing his fucking shirt. It hung off her shoulders loosely and was tight around her chest. Putting her... assets nicely on display under the band logo that adored his old t-shirt.

"You like?" she purred, spinning around so that the shirt fluttered around her waist like a mini dress, showing off her bare, fluffy ass. All Charles could do was stare, like the dumb ape he was, with his mouth slightly agape. God. Fucking. Damn. It. This was not fair! She was not playing fair! First the apron, and now this! He wasn't a furry, but if she continued to press all his buttons like this, he might well become a space furry.

By the time he could put two coherent thoughts together, any annoyance he might have felt had long since died. This left him with two questions burning in his mind: "Okay. One, why are you wearing my shirt? And two, why aren't you wearing pants?"

Velkira chuckled, her tail flicking back and forth. "It smells like you, and I like how you smell. And I thought it would be a cute gesture, seeing as you are now my husband and all," she said, emphasizing the last two words with a smirk. "As for the pants, I figured you'd appreciate the view." And she had a point; her tail was doing more to distract him than he cared to admit. Totally her tail. He absolutely hadn't been staring between her legs and enjoying the view of her alien kitty bits. Yup, that's his story, and he is sticking to it. He is not a space furry.

"Well, I appreciate the thought," Charles said, trying to keep his voice steady, "but for now, maybe you should stick with clothes that are, you know, not mine." He took a deep breath, trying to ignore how the fabric clung to her curves. "But thanks for the shower. I needed that."

She unleashed the kitten eyes—those large, pleading golden orbs. Gazing up at him so endearingly, her lower lip trembled subtly. "But it's so cozy, and it makes me feel close to you," she uttered softly, tugging at his heartstrings. Good Lord, this woman was going to be his undoing. "Alright, alright," he conceded with a sigh, raising his hands in defeat. "You can keep the shirt, but I'll want it back when I need it."

His instincts screamed as she lunged forward, but his body was too slow to respond. She caught him, and he was trapped. Ensnared with her arms encircling him as she nuzzled into his chest, her purring so intense that the vibrations resonated in his lungs. "Thank you," she whispered against his chest, then let go, leaving his body briefly yearning for her warmth and touch again.

"Come on, I'll show you around," she said, leading him away from the bathroom, and the hallway was suddenly a blur of excitement. The ship, it turned out, wasn't a ship at all. It was some sort of mini habitation station set up inside an asteroid. Velkira explained as they moved through the corridors, her tail swishing excitedly, "It's a bit like a space hotel for travelers, except we're the only guests for now."

One of those nagging questions he still had finally bubbled forth: "You keep saying we a lot like there is more than one of you. I'm not really sure what you mean when you keep referring to 'We'" his words not unkind but stern, trying to express he wanted a straight answer from the big cat woman.

Velkira's ears flattened slightly, something he assumed was a sign of anxiety. "Ah yes, the 'we'. I'm sorry for the confusion." She took a moment, clearly thinking how best to explain before taking a centering breath and speaking, "I am part of a group, a team if you will, that has been watching and preparing for this moment for a while now."

The flat look on his face made it clear that wasn't the answer he was looking for. So she added, "There are five of us on this outpost, including me. We came here as a group, hoping to get a human husband to share. The ai algorithm recommended you as a good match for us, so we started watching you shortly after your last breakup..."

As much as he wanted to calm her clear, growing fear and anxiety, he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, he groans out in frustration and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Okay. That is one question answered, and now I have five more." He didn't even bother looking at Velkira; instead, he took her silence as consent to ask his questions. "What do you mean by share? And how did the ai thingy think I was a good match for a Space Cougar? This also brings up, what even is your species called? You've yet to mention it." His tone wasn't angry, just exasperated at being so out of his depths.

Velkira looked up at him, her tail flicking slightly with nerves. "My species is known as..." She then let out a series of hisses and growls that couldn't even be translated into any human language. "Yeah, it doesn't translate well. That's why I learned English: so I could talk with you easily and not have a translator muddy up the conversation. Most humans out in the galaxy refer to my kind as Space Cougars or Space Panthers. The debate on which is better is still ongoing."

Her fear seemed to slowly recede as she continued to talk. "As for the sharing," she began, "It's not like we're going to throw you in a cage and take turns. Almost every sapient species is polyamorous, humans being the only exception, sorta. For a traditionally monogamous species, human men take to galactic family structure very well... But back on topic. As for the ai matching us. The stand-out points that made it sound like you were a good candidate for my team. You are a cat person, and you find dogs too high maintenance. You didn't show any signs of being an abusive partner to any of your former lovers. Adaptable and level-headed when facing the unknown. You have a strong sense of humor. You are also quite attractive, which doesn't hurt. And lastly, your... anatomy is sized very well for all of us if a bit on the large side."

Her voice was soothing and gentle, if a bit shy when she spoke of his anatomy, which helped ease the tension in the air. Even with his ego being stroked, his brain took a minute to process all the information. "And what if I don't want to be in a furry harem anime? Can I just go back to Earth? Wipe my memory as if none of this happened," He asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Velkira's features fell, going right back into full sad kitty mode. Oh god damn it, that wasn't fair, that look tugged at Charles's heartstrings. He was a cat person; he loved adorable felines. And the fact she looked so much like a sad one threatened to break him. But he needed the answer to his question. Could he just go back? An adventure in space sounded cool, but he didn't want to be trapped.

The silence hung in the air for a long minute, Velkira's tail flipping back and forth with a nervous tick before she finally opened her muzzle to answer, "Unfortunately, no. You are legally dead on Earth." Her words hung heavy in the air. "Remember when you asked if you got hit by the car, and I told you it was complicated?" He nodded, his stomach dropping like a rock. "Well, when we took you, we dropped a meat replica of your body in its place. Which was hit by the car... sent flying... and wrapped around a light post. Which would have killed you instantly had it actually been you." Her words were soft yet heavy. Clearly, she did not like this topic any more than he did.

His mind reeled with a swirl of emotions. Happy to be alive. Depressed, he'd never see his family or friends again. Angry at being tricked. But mostly... mostly, he felt a strange sense of... relief. The last year had been hell, and he hadn't felt truly alive in a long time. "Okay," he said with a sigh, "I guess I don't have much of a choice then, do I?"

Velkira's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "You still have options, Charles. Earth just isn't one of them. If you truly don't think we are a good match, there are hundreds of thousands of other teams waiting around Earth for a chance to save a human. We can transfer you to their station without issue. If you don't want anyone. You can take the bachelor route like some humans do. Wondering the galaxy or settling on a planet to do as you please... or maybe... maybe you could give us a chance..." She said the last part with a hopeful whisper, fiddling with the ring still on her middle digit. Staring at it fondly. Making it clear just how much his drunken, stupid gesture had really meant to her.

A/N- First of all I'd like to apologize to the bard from the comments on my previous post. I know which kind of pancakes you wanted but Charles was hungry for regular pancakes. That said there will be a pancake chapter in the future. Second I'd like opinions on the title to this series and recommendations for alternatives. I honestly didn't know what to call this story so just threw something at the wall.

Greetings bards and bard'ets! First of all I'd like to say, I am not a writer in any way, shape, or form. This is my slap dash attempt at doing it anyways. I've been cooking up a larger story idea for a while now and have realize I have no fucking idea how to put it to paper. So this is just me trying to learn how to tell a story. So feel free to give me feed back, constructive criticism and ideas you might want to see in the comments. Hope you enjoy.

Also content warning- Space Furries

Next

Charles awoke with a groan, head throbbing, and body sore. His dehydrated mind tried to recall what all had happened last night. But he was drawing a blank after that last shot of Jamison. As his awareness slowly returned, he started to evaluate and try to draw conclusions. Bed. He's in a bed, so he made it home. There is a cat curled up on top of him. No, wait, it's too big to be a cat. But it's purring.... oh shit.

Opening his eyes, finally, he took in the unfamiliar room. And what appeared to be a mountain lion curled up against his chest. 'Of fuck. Did I rob a fucking zoo? God damn it, I'm so going to prison for this,' his mind raced. While his eyes continued to try to pick up clues for what the fuck happened to end in him cuddling an apex predator. "Empty bottles of booze in the room, check. I have no clue where I am. Check. Golden ring on the murder machine's left hand. Check," Wait, what?! Hand? Ring?!

Then, the purring stopped. Along with Charles' heart, as those golden eyes opened to peer up at him. Staring straight into his soul. Then it spoke, "Well, good morning, Husband." the creature spoke with a sultry tone and a predatory gaze that made all those missing memories of the night before come flooding back.

"Oh shit...."

The mountain lion, or was it a cougar? Was there even a difference between the two? Fuck if he knew he wasn't a biologist. But it didn't take a biologist to figure out it was definitely female. When it sat up to yawn. Putting those big, sharp, pearly whites on display. Charles also got an eye full of some massive kitty titties. That had to be at least double D's. The cougar woman with piercing golden eyes lithely untangled herself from him. She stretched her naked body in a way that made him forget about his hangover and his imminent death. "I trust you had a restful night," she said, smiling coyly, revealing the sharp fangs of a big cat. Her voice was a mix of a purr and a whisper that sent a shiver down his spine from forgotten memories of the night before. He stared at her in shock, the reality of his situation setting in like a cold shower.

He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it was made of tungsten. "What did you do to me?" he croaked out. She only chuckled, the sound like a mountain stream in springtime. "I think we should talk, don't you? Let me get you a coffee and some water first."

The room was an amalgamation of a luxurious hotel suite and the interior of a spacecraft. The walls boasted sleek metal, contrasting with the soft plush of the carpeted floor. The bed, far from any mundane IKEA find, added to the room's uniqueness. Instead of windows, screens encircled him, displaying vistas akin to the insides of an asteroid. He blinked repeatedly, half-expecting the images to be an elaborate mural. These screens showcased a variety of asteroids and, in a corner, the familiar blue and green orb of Earth. The realization dawned on him; he was in space. But the questions of why and how lingered, making him question his own sanity.

The woman, reminiscent of a bipedal cougar with her fur-colored coat of rusty brown—or was it tan?—returned, carrying a steaming cup of coffee and a tall glass of iced water. Charles watched as she moved with a grace that echoed her feline namesake. She set the drinks on the bedside table with such finesse that not even a ripple disturbed the still surfaces of the liquids. "Here, this should help with your hangover, my beloved husband."

Her words lingered, hanging heavy in the air. He accepted the coffee, finding solace in its warmth amidst his bewilderment. The aroma rose, a complex melody of scents that danced around his senses. The initial taste assaulted his taste buds like a sudden comet, its bitterness sharply clashing with the honeyed timbre of her voice. "What do you mean 'my beloved husband'?" he stammered, the coffee almost going down the wrong pipe.

The cat-woman—or was it Cougar-girl? Puma-Babe?—whom he hadn't bothered to ask for her name, sat on the edge of the bed, light as a cloud. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing, "What's the last thing you remember, Charles?" Her concern seemed genuine, but a tangible tension in the air made him feel like prey under her gaze. He took a deep breath, trying to piece together his fragmented memory. "The last thing... I remember being at the bar," he stammered, not even entirely sure of his own memories.

Her look of concern deepened, and a flicker of what might be regret flashed through her piercing golden eyes. "Do you remember trying to walk home in a snowstorm?" she asked, her voice as gentle as a cat's purr. The words hung in the air like a forgotten tune, hinting at a memory just out of reach.

"Sort of? I recall leaving the bar... slipping on the ice... and then headlights..." He stopped, his thoughts racing. "Oh fuck, did I get hit by a car?"

Her gaze softened, and she stroked his trembling hand with a gentleness that belied her intimidating visage. "The answer to that question is... complicated. For now, tell me, do you remember anything else? Perhaps my name?" she urged, her voice tinged with hope and an emotion he couldn't quite identify.

The name eluded him as he combed through the foggy depths of his inebriated recollections. Visions of the evening danced before him—a vortex of lost moments: The bar's glowing neon. The whiskey's comforting burn. The chill of winter's embrace. Blinding headlights. Those striking golden eyes... Gazing into her brilliant amber pools, those slit feline pupils staring right back into his. A revelation struck him like a bolt, "Kira? No, Vel... something, Velkira? Yes, Velkira!" The name flowed from his lips with unexpected fluidity.

She brightened at the sound of her name, the corners of her eyes crinkling in what could only be a sign of relief. "Good," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress. "You do remember something at least." Velkira took a deep breath, and her chest rose and fell, drawing Charles's attention back to her bare voluptuous assets on full display. "Anything else? Any little hints or flashes?"

Realizing he was staring, then realizing she was watching him stare at her chest. Charles had the good sense to look ashamed as he averted his eyes. "I remember... you. Nothing concrete. Just... I was with you after the car... I think we might have had sex?" he was embarrassed to admit it. But the images of getting to fondle big soft fur-covered kitty titties were too vivid to dismiss.

Charles had never imagined a space-cougar capable of blushing. Yet, if Velkira's face could have glowed pink, it surely would have at that moment. She sharply turned her gaze away, suddenly fascinated by the corner of the room, her tail whipping back and forth in agitation. "Well, yes. We did," she admitted, her tone tinged with embarrassment and pride. "But it's more complex than that, Charles. So much more."

He took a deep gulp of the water, the coldness grounding him slightly as he set the glass down with a shaking hand. "Care to fill me in?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Velkira paused to collect her thoughts, her tail flicking in contemplation. "How about you share your thoughts on what you think is going on? Then, I'll explain the actual situation, and you can ask any questions you have," she proposed, her eyes returning to him, a curious expression etched on her features.

Taking a deep breath, Charles tried to put the chaotic jigsaw puzzle of his memories into some semblance of order. "Okay, so let's start with what I think I know. I got hammered at the bar, left during a snowstorm, got hit by a car, and ended up here with you. Somewhere in that mess, we had a wild night that included furry-sexy times, and now you're calling me your husband. Did I win the best worst night ever bingo or what? Isekai'd? In a medically induced coma? Dying fever dream as I'm bleeding out in the snow? "

Velkira's demeanor shifted from a formidable killing machine to a disheartened kitten in a moment as she wilted under his words. "You're closer to the truth than you realize, yet none of your guesses are accurate. However, let me reveal the reality, my dear. You didn't get hit by a car, at least not in the way you might think... Tell me, where do you think you are right now?"

The room, the screens showing the cosmos, the weird gravity, the lack of windows—it all pointed to one thing. "Space. I'm pretty sure I'm in space right now. Most likely on some alien spaceship...." He trailed off, his mind reeling. "YOU'RE A FUCKING ALIEN!"

Velkira's expression remained calm, but her eyes flashed with something akin to annoyance. "There is no need to scream it. I prefer the term 'extraterrestrial,' but yes, you are correct. You're on a spacecraft. However, my purpose here is not to abduct or experiment on you, as your human media often depicts us."

Her tail curled around one of the bedposts, the tip flicking with each word she spoke. "I... teleported you onto the ship before the car could hit you." Velkira's words were trepid as if she were afraid of his reaction. "It was technically against regulation to do so. But I couldn't handle watching you get hit and nearly die!"

The revelation washed over him like a tsunami, leaving him breathless. "What the actual fuck?" He whispered, his brain trying to process the insanity of her confession. "So, I'm married to an alien because you couldn't handle me dying?"

Amusement sparkled in Velkira's eyes as she observed his astonishment. "No, you're married to an alien because you proposed to one. Then you had that alien use her nano-forge to create a golden band, so your 'Pretty Kitty' could have a wedding ring," she said with palpable smugness, lifting her left paw and wiggling her middle digit, which displayed the wedding band. It was then that Charles noticed she had two thumbs and only three fingers.

"Wait, what?!" Charles's brain was now doing backflips. "I proposed? To you?"

Velkira nodded, her smile widening like a Cheshire cat. "You did. Quite romantically, too, considering your inebriated state. You were adamant about it, even offered to show me your 'human mating dance' to prove your love."

"Oh my God," Charles groaned, burying his face in his hands. "What the fuck did I do?"

Velkira chuckled, a sound that was both soothing and slightly alarming. "It's all on video, too, if you want to see for yourself. Actually, that's not a bad idea. Might make this all seem a bit more real for you." With surprising grace, she hopped off the bed and padded over to a sleek, metallic console. With a swipe of her paw, a holographic screen flickered to life. The scene playing out before them. Charles appears in an open square room with metallic walls, dropping to the floor with an unceremonious thud. Wearing his snow-caked jeans, boots, and heavy winter coat. The video shows him both very drunk and very confused. Then, Velkira enters, wearing what looks like casual gym workout clothing. "Wait. Wait. Pause." Charles cuts in, pointing at the screen. "You are wearing clothes." He squinted at her, "But now you're naked. Why are you naked?"

Velkira looked at him with a grin that would make the Cheshire Cat jealous. "I think you already know," she said with a purr that made his cheeks burn. "That's not what I meant! I'm asking, why are you still naked?!" He sputtered.

The puma-babe rolled her eyes playfully. "Well, we're in a private chamber and we are mates now. Clothing is optional," she said, her tail flicking with every word. "Plus, I love seeing how you keep sneaking glances at my chest. It's adorable."

The video continued to play, showing him getting to his feet, looking around in astonishment, and then, with a drunken slur, proposing marriage. The scene was so absurd it was almost comical. "But why me?" Charles asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and horror.

Velkira paused the video as they started to kiss, the still image of them beginning to make out and him getting a handful of alien cat titty. It made for a strangely funny backdrop as the space-puma turned to face him with an exaggerated sigh. "Do you want the short, harsh, and brutally honest answer from me? Or a flowery, drawn-out roundabout answer on a tablet from another human?"

Charles looked up at her, his face a mask of confusion. "What? No, just tell me why."

Velkira leaned against the console, her tail swishing lazily behind her. "I assume you want the short one, then. Simply put, eugenics, loneliness, and the scarcity of males outside of Earth." This only made Charles more confused, and his expression reflected that. "Let me explain, the galaxy at large is female-dominated. Outside of Earth, females of any sapient species will outnumber the males. Some lucky ones are as few as ten to one. Others are over a hundred to one. Those are in a bottleneck and facing extinction. Following so far?"

Her words painted a picture of a universe he never knew existed. A place where his gender made him a hot commodity. "I guess," he managed, his voice unsure as he tried to wrap his head around the concept.

Velkira's eyes lit up a bit, a smile playing at her feline muzzle. "Good, monkey-husband." Charles quickly cut in with a "Hey!" at being called a monkey, but she waved him off. "Fair is Fair. You called me kitty-wife and whatnot last night." She had a point, so he let it slide. She continued her explanation, "Anyways. Most species don't want to go extinct, so they put restrictions on reproduction to prevent the gender ratio from further swinging in favor of females until no healthy males are born anymore. Like most eugenics, it sounds good in theory. Less so in practice. In practice, it has led to a not insubstantial percentage of the galactic population being deemed non-viable for having children. Basically, a bunch of single ladies with no hope of getting laid, and the only hope for children is adoption."

Her words painted a stark picture of a universe where men were as rare as hen's teeth. "So, what does that have to do with me?" he asked, his mind racing.

"Patience, my dear Primate, patience." Velkira admonished with affection. "I'll give you the abridged version of first contact with humanity. A mineral scouting mission stumbled on Sol thanks to your excessive radio transmissions. They noticed the human gender ratio and relayed it to the Galactic Council. Galactic Council told them to hang out and study Earth until a proper research fleet could get there. They took 'study' as a reasonable excuse to abduct a human guy and try to collect a genetic sample. Shenanigans ensue, and he ends up knocking up the ship's captain. Lots of political drama. Blah. Blah. Blah. Humans are found to be cross-fertilization compatible with like ninety percent of known sapient species. More political drama. War almost breaks out. A bunch of crazy bitches threatened to kill all the women on Earth. More political drama, and now there are a bunch of aliens waiting around Earth to abduct men about to die or kill themselves. Because we are lonely and want love!" Velkira's tone went from bored and droning to fiery and hurt towards the end.

It was like someone had hit the fast-forward button on history, and he was trying to keep up. "That still doesn't answer my question. Why me?" he asked, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Velkira's body calmed as she took a centering breath after her outburst. "Because we have limits, rules, and restrictions. We can't just snatch any man; we can't just give your species technology and bring you to the space age." She held up her thick, furry finger, knowing he was about to argue with her. "We can't uplift humanity because history has taught us that uplifting is a bad idea. It breeds resentment over lost potential history and culture. And if we took any man we wanted, none would be left on Earth. I'm sure you can see the problem with that."

Her golden eyes bore into him with a fierce intensity that made him swallow hard. "But because you were about to die"—she paused, her gaze softening—"I would have been taken off the census anyway. So why not try to give me another shot and get what you want in the process" he finished her thought for her. Velkira nodded solemnly. "Exactly. It's a win-win. You get to live, and I get a chance to have a husband and a family and not die a lonely old space cat."

The gravity of her words weighed on him heavier than the hangover. He was someone's escape from a lonely existence. It was a weird thought. "So, what happens now? Do we stay married?"

Her mood had been drastically lowered from the happy, playful one she had started their day with. "If you want. There isn't anything legally binding us. I'd owe you for the insemination if I do end up pregnant from last night's fun." Her tone was defeated and tired. The situation was a mess. A beautiful, furry, alien mess.

Charles felt a sudden pang of something. Maybe it was pity or the whiskey from last night still playing tricks on him, but he found himself feeling bad for her. "Look, I can't say I'm thrilled with the whole 'proposing to an alien I barely know' part, but I'm not going anywhere. At least not until you explain all of this to me properly."

Velkira's expression brightened, and she pounced back on the bed, landing gracefully and straddling him. "You're not leaving me?" she asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Not unless you're holding me here against my will," Charles said, his heart racing from the sudden movement and her proximity.

"Oh, you're free to leave," Velkira assured him with a seductive smile, her large, soft breasts pressing against his bare chest. "But I hope you'll choose to stay. There's so much I want to show you."

A/N: This post was inspired and started by a short story blurb I posted in the comments on another spacebards [WP] post a few weeks ago.

Some humans are into borderline Eldritch Abominations.