Molten by Kira Stone

So, I’m on the job chasing Molten — the runny metallic stuff that, when harnessed, powers Parkeet space station — and I get this summons to appear in the Health Center. The people running this place don’t exactly put a high priority on hygiene. Your soul, possibly. Your health, nah. Unless you’re worth more dead. So my first thought is, “What’s the deal?”

By the way, I’m Dolan Exeter, Class D Indentured Guest on Parkeet. D is code for Digger. Really sneaky, eh? Indentured servant, well that means they bailed my butt out of a Crimenus jail so I could work in their blarting mines until my loan is paid off. With all the extras, like drinks and meals, I might make it out of here by my second or third existence.

So I’m diggin’ to earn my freedom like every other blarting day on this floating hunk of rock when I get an order to report to the Health Center. Immediately. Hell, the summons even made my boss blink, and he’s got nothing a xeno-biologist would call eyes.

So I get to the Health Center after verifying at every level of mine management that I’d received a real summons, and as soon as I opened the door to those hallowed halls this lab-coated machine takes me to a white room one could actually turn around in, where all I see, aside from us, is a human sized ovoid… thing.

“Mate now,” the medical droid ordered tonelessly.

“You want me to do what?” I blinked, never hearing before that sexual service was part of the indentured program. Not that I was complaining. Fucking my way to freedom sounded a lot better than chasing Molten through the small, dirty tunnels winding through this bit of space debris.

“Mate. Intercourse. Reproduction. Fuck.” The robot seemed unfazed by the use of blunt terminology.

“You’re asking me to be a fucking lab experiment?” I’m more than willing to experiment when it comes to sex — hey, someone has to do it first — but nothing in the room said, “Fuck me…”

“Now, yes.”

I looked around. The square room held all the eroticism of a specimen lab. The only even remotely inviting thing in the space was… well, I had no idea what to call the thing. It was about my size in height and width, ovoid in shape, and the skin glowed blue. Kinda. “Mate with who?”

“Organic Specimen 825MC.”

I scanned the room again for another vaguely humanoid being, or even just a being, and failed to find one. They couldn’t mean the egg, could they? Then I glanced over the white walls for something to fuck on, or with, and came up with more nothing. “How long until the Specimen joins us?”

“It is here.” The droid gestured toward the egg.

This whole situation was blarting strange. I wanted an explanation or I wanted out. “I can’t see anything to get my hands on here. Maybe you can give me a clue as to how I’m supposed to, err, mate with this… specimen-person.”

The blue glowing thing dimmed a bit. The shadows playing on the exterior could be something shifting around inside. Dinner? Offspring? A portal to another dimension? I’d seen a lot of oddities in my life, but nothing about that egg said “fuck me.”

“It has been determined that you and Specimen 825MC have compatible genetics. A mating between the two of you has an 84% chance of a satisfying result.”

The concept of me fucking an egg only slightly smaller than myself was, well, laughable. I managed to keep my reaction down to a smirk. “What do I get out of my donation to the sperm bank?”

The orb darkened further, and I really wanted to remove the boot from the back of my throat. You’ll notice I have a tendency to be sarcastic, but that’s not a good way to start off with a stranger you’re supposed to become intimate with in a few minutes. Even if it is an egg.

“You will be well compensated for your efforts toward producing offspring.”

“Offspring? Now there we might have a problem. I’ve been inoculated against having offspring of any sort.”

I saw the tiny port slide open on the bot’s shoulder. Not knowing what projectile was coming but sure I wasn’t going to like it, I darted to the left. The needle reached me faster. The blarting thing injected and dissolved in a blink. The egg seemed unfazed. “Fertilization restored,” the lab minion intoned.

“Great.” Add another few weeks of labor to get that function reversed. Assuming this fucking business didn’t leave me dead. Or worse. “In the unlikely event that this copulation thing doesn’t produce the desired result, what happens?”

The egg darkened. If the Specimen were remotely human, I’d have called its expression glowering. Since I didn’t even know if it was organic, I continued to pretend the orb was part of the decor.

“Failure to perform –”

“Hey, now, I’m not saying I can’t perform. I’m asking about the other party in this experiment. What if the other half of this equation fails to breed? Or cooperate? Or the chemistry just isn’t right?”

And what Organic Specimen was I being paired up with anyway? My race is pretty compatible with other humanoids and few non-humans. As long as I’m not the one who’s supposed to –”Oh, blart. I’m not expected to carry the babies, am I?”

That was so not my thing. I’m up for sexual exploration in almost any area but that one. Genetically, I’m sure this remote controlled droid could make such a thing possible, but I really didn’t want to go there.

“No, you will not have any contact with the Specimen once you mate.” The mechanical lab rat rolled over to the egg, scrutinized it, then consulted his charts. “Compatibility probability 82% now.” It turned to face me again. “Make your decision, Digger HH485. Once the percentage reaches 80%, you will no longer have the option to participate and you will be terminated.”

Translation: Mate with the egg, and I have an 82% chance that a year will be taken off the balance of my indentured term. Decline, and I can sell my soul to whatever hell will have me, cause I won’t be needing it anymore. “Right, sign me up for egg sex.” I mean, given those terms, wouldn’t you?

“You have twelve station hours in which to complete the mating.” The bot turned to leave — I swear he grinned at me like I had just stepped in oonaz vomit — when I called the mechanical bit of hell back. “Is there, like, an operator’s manual for this thing?”

I’m almost positive the irritating hunk of junk said “No,” before the door shut behind him. Which made me wonder how many others had tried this experiment before me. Somehow I doubted I was the first. But with no guidelines to go by, no hints from the egg, just what the blart was I supposed to do with it?

Sex. I’d had a lot of practice at that. So I started putting my moves on the egg. Stroking it, crooning to it, sending the Specimen any kind of sexy thought that crossed my mind — OK, bad idea since not all of them involved the egg, but hey, I was flying solo here.

Which got me thinking. Maybe a solo job would do. You know, kinda shower the organism with my spunk and let this thing do whatever it needed to do with my little swimmers. At least I had a plan.

My digging uniform was a thin synthetic rubber, self lubricating for faster gliding around the channels Molten had carved through the rock. When ready for work, we looked much like a giant, lubed condom, or so the mining team joked.

Given the dirt I accumulated during my shift, I’d have preferred a shower before becoming intimate with this Specimen. First impressions and all. But since our suite lacked that amenity, I stripped down and stood before the egg in all my naked, semi-aroused glory.

My looks were average among the residents of the station but somehow people drifted toward me. More than one fight — between men, women and the indefinable — had started over me. So I figured in time this thing would make a move for at least a look at me.

Well, when the Specimen did so, it rolled over with as much grace as an egg could. And then the blartin’ orb ate my suit. Well, perhaps not so much ate the latex as absorb it.

The blue became more blue, which I took as a good sign, but on the other hand the organism had consumed my suit and who knew what kind of condition it’d be in when my suit came back. If it came back. More money added to my sentence. This experiment was becoming one sucky, expensive arrangement.

And then, as suddenly as my uniform had disappeared, it reappeared. The suit, I mean. As clean as the day it had been assigned to me. “Ummm… thank you.”

The egg flashed pink for a second, then went back to its happy shade of blue. Then the Specimen started rolling more toward me.

My brain started screaming a lot of reactions to this, given what happened to my suit — clean, great; consumed, not so much — most of which boiled down to run and hide. Not exactly a sexy or productive response. Especially in a room I couldn’t escape from, and with nothing to hide me. So I stood there trying to look as non-threatening as I could while it embraced me. Kinda.

As the liquid metal-like substance swallowed my toes and ran up my legs, I couldn’t call the sensation unpleasant. The sensation paralleled my suit being slowly rolled up my body with just a hint of stroking fur. The Specimen was politely snug around my genitals. Only when the stretchable being started to cover my neck did I panic a little. “Blart you! I need to breathe. You can’t –”

Apparently it could and did, covering my mouth and nose completely. I would even go so far to say it invaded those orifices, along with my ears and my… err… rectum, until I felt completely filled. I didn’t seem to breathe, nor, to my great surprise, did I require air. And then, without warning, the orb spit me out. Well, the being reformed into an egg a short distance away again. I must say I felt much cleaner than before it swallowed me, but I still couldn’t call that bit of intimacy sex.

So… what now?

I waited a few minutes for the egg to make another move. When the Specimen didn’t eat me again, I felt a bit more fondly toward it and gave the organism my best to stimulate some kind of amorous reaction.

It’s hard — no pun intended — to keep yourself going when your partner is showing less interest than the medical drone. All right, so this being had better color accessories than the mechanical machine. Still, the orb’s actions weren’t simulating my libido much.

So I sat on the floor, which turned out to be a lot more comfortable than the bed in my own quarters, and gave the egg a nice view of what I had to offer.

I started stroking my schel — cock to many of you humanoids — and let my brain drift to sexual places I’d enjoyed in the past. My one and only session with the Orgasmatron. Threesome sex with the male twins from Fortunas Delta. And the one that just made his toes curl — the top yearly fuck from the demon sex club on Trios.

And then there was him. The one I’d never had but always imagined to be somewhere. The one I looked for in every crowd. The one every other encounter failed, if only marginally, to equal.

Though I became instantly hard and ready to rock, the egg chose that moment to melt. Deform. Puddle.

Nothing will put a wilt in a creature’s sexual enthusiasm like having your partner disintegrate before penetration, let alone afterward. Unless, of course, that’s how they get off. But I’d never come across one who did that, and I didn’t feel that was the case with my egg partner.

The egg did this kind of melting thing, and then this pulsing thing, and then it just kind of ran together and began to rise. Not even a ripple crossed its surface as it took on another shape. That action alone should have told me something important but I didn’t figure out what until later.

When this organism finished re-morphing, it was my turn to collapse. Faint, really. For what I saw before me was not an egg, but the male of my dreams. No, I don’t mean the kind you have when you shut down for an hour in the rejuvenation chamber and wake a bit sticky. I mean the real mental fantasy I had when I was, err, egging on the egg. The perfect male I’d pictured but never met.

Now I know anything on Parkeet Station is labeled as humanoid as long as the being has at least two arms, two legs, one head and walks vaguely upright. All other details are optional and haphazard.

This humanoid was the best formed being the known multiverse had to offer. He had these golden eyes that fluttered open and closed with waves of emotion, and hair that hung in bronze streaks braided with gold to his waist. Oh, and the blue bit? That didn’t go away. His forehead had become so blue it was nearly black, but the color softened as it headed down his body until the tips of his toes were solar flare white. Plus he had all the right pieces in all the right places. So fucking gorgeous I couldn’t breathe. Didn’t breathe. Until my body reminded me that if I wanted to go on looking at him I required oxygen.

So I did that breathing thing again, and he still remained. My living dream. And, see, the thing is, he doesn’t really exist. My dream is just that. There’s no being I’ve seen in any dive, slave auction, or any other palace that resembled this creature. But there he was, standing in front of me, so he had to be real, right?

A morphing egg. One who knew what I liked. Egg sex then became not only possible, it just had to happen or my brain would implode. The concept of hearing “no” from those incredible azure lips just — no, not going there.

I stood and pointed at my chest, thinking I should at least attempt to introduce myself. “Dolan.”

It… he… turned his head as if considering this. “Xzavia’n.”

Right. The word sounded exotic and sexy, but he could have been talking about his mother for all I knew. But for now, I considered that his name. “Hello, Xzavia’n.”

His mouth crooked in a smile and I had the feeling he was trying hard not to laugh at my pronunciation. “Zian,” he supplied.

OK, that sounded like a name and one I could handle. I took another step closer to him and brushed my thumb against his cheek. His skin was extraordinary. Not plastic, not fur, and yet both. “Hello, Zian.”

He reached for my face and I anticipated a similar gesture, but he ran his fingers through my hair, tugging my face close to his, and kissed me. Deeply. Leisurely. As if exploring my mouth had no equal pleasure.

When he finally did pull back, he wore a broad grin. “Hello, Dolan.”

Was it possible to come from a kiss? If Zian had kept that up a little longer, the hot, sticky answer would be all over my stomach. I rested my hands on his shoulders, sure he would hold me steady until my legs stopped shaking.

While I waited a few seconds for my equilibrium to kick in, my thoughts wandered back to sex. To intercourse with Zian, specifically. How are you? – totally lame. How do I have sex with you? – practical but not sexy. Where do you need my cock to go for procreation? Uhm, totally stupid. Who knew having sex with the male of my dreams would be fraught with so many communication issues?

Zian pulled me closer to him, then bent me backward over his arm. Now the great part about being a bender is that I’m double jointed compared to most species. To say that he bent me over his arm meant that he literally draped me over him, both of my hands and feet touching the floor. This position left my stiff, pulsing cock completely in his face. This realization brought home two facts: 1) perhaps I was too slow in handing out information on how my species had sex and B) after swallowing me, he might know more about my body than I did about his.

As if reading my mind, he did some self-adjusting so he could blow a stream of moist air over the tip of my cock.

I groaned. It was like being swallowed to the root, and yet not. There were so many things about this creature… Zian… I didn’t understand. How I could return such pleasure quickly became one of them, especially being upside down the way I was.

I stiffened my spine, rising until I reached nipple height, and swirled my tongue over his, again tasting his velvety smooth texture. The low hum Zian made seemed to indicate he found the sensation pleasing as well. I did so again, sucking hard, tasting his skin, which reminded me of fruit. Not one in particular, just a refreshing, juicy bite on a hot day.

In return, he lifted me off my feet. No easy feat since I was well muscled from crawling through tunnels all day. Gently and tenderly, he laid me down on the floor. He stretched out next to me, our bodies touching so I could feel his growing hardness against my thigh.

As much as I had always wanted this being, I found I didn’t want to rush things. A lab wouldn’t have been my first choice of settings, and yet my feelings for Zian were very much of a romantic nature. I wanted to slowly treat him to all the pleasure he could take, and then repeat it until exhaustion overcame us. Making this a memory for both of us to remember.

I stroked his face again, memorizing every detail. Finally, I got around to fingering one of his braids. His hair felt as fine as Celandrean silk, as I had always imagined, but it also seemed that my touch had an erotic effect on him. His soft moans encouraged me to delve my fingers through those braids, tugging just a little. His hips began to rock against me and his mouth sought out mine.

Though he attempted to return the gesture by tugging on my short curls, it was the depth and tenderness of his kisses that had me moaning back. Hands roamed skin in tandem, and when the hair tugging revealed his throat to me I added a string of nips, increasing the volume of his moans.

My reaction to such a move was predictable. Precum bubbled up from my slit. His reaction though — his breathing picked up until I thought he was hyperventilating. His hand slid down my back until he reached my ass, then delved between the halves to find my puckered entrance. “Here?” he asked, his voice no longer melodious but rough, similar to mine.

“Uhm…” How could I explain? Did he think that entering me would cause the effect the lab had in mind? If he were after my sperm then he needed to receive what I pitched. After a second or so of consideration, I said, “Yours, yes.”

I wasn’t going to stop to contemplate where my little swimmers were going to end up inside him. Normally male with male sex wouldn’t result in any kind of pregnancy. But if he found my cum acceptable, I’d put it anywhere that made him happy.

He flipped me on my back and straddled my hips. His first attempts to sheath my straining cock within his body were clumsy and bordered on painful. OK, so maybe slow wasn’t the best way to go… this time.

As I used my fingers to enter his tight passage, several thoughts went through my mind. Everything from “This is blarting perfect.” to “Do I need to worry about disease? Does he?”

Zian tried to help by bouncing on my fingers, driving them in deeper. I stroked his lower stomach with my other hand. “Shhh, my lover. It’ll happen. But if we go too fast, I’ll hurt you.”

“Need. Want. Must.”

“I know.” Even if his glorious cock wasn’t standing at full rise, his body sent all the right signals. “Let me guide you.”

“Need all.” Zian’s voice had turned to crumbled stone, the words grating against each other.

“Yes.” I withdrew my fingers. They were a bit sticky so perhaps he made his own kind of lubrication. Between such a physical reaction and my precum, he should be fine when I entered him. At this point, I thought I could read him well enough to know if something went wrong. Still, I planned to go very slow to make sure no harm came to him.

Turned out that wasn’t an issue. At all. My lover not only accepted my cock into his body, but he engulfed my shaft to the root faster than I could have done on my own. His morphing ability allowed him to fit every cell to mine in the most perfect merging of two bodies I’d ever known.

Zian must have been watching me closely when I was showing off for him, for his body didn’t stop at the base of my cock, but enclosed my sac as well. Can you — male, female, asexual or pansexual — imagine your genitals surrounded by velvety latex stroking you with perfection every time you move? and, if you’re like me, you move as much as possible.

I rocked my hips up and down. There was such friction to the movement, and Zian’s walls rippled around me, generating more. I grabbed his hips, grinding our bodies together, and still he seemed to crave more.

Zian was stronger than I am. I knew that. But I was amazed that he could lift me in our current position and hold me even tighter against his body. I arched my back a bit so my hips raised even farther — a bender has to use his skills where he can. Between the deep fucking and the way Zian stroked my balls, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.

Then, suddenly, Zian rippled. Not gently, like calm waves, but as if he were having some kind of seizure. “Zian, what’s wrong? What can I do?” I lightly brushed my hands over his body in case I could find something I could fix. I couldn’t bear the thought that I might have hurt him.

The rippling continued longer than I could hold my breath. I was just about to summon the med droid, credits and experiment be damned, when Zian smiled and placed a hand on my chest. “Pleasure,” he said with a deeply satisfied smile. “You have given me great pleasure.”

“Oh. Good. Great.”

At that point I realized a few things. One, I already cared for the strange creature, whether he remained my ideal man or not. Two, my cock remained inside him and the things he continued doing with his internal… internal bits made my cock swell beyond what I thought even a bender’s skin could do.

And my balls, they were heavy, tightly drawn against my body. There was pain, but the good kind that told me this orgasm was going to be off the charts. And then, like someone pressing a button just behind the root of my cock, I came. And came. And somehow came again. My balls should have shrunk to the size of prunes as every last sperm was sucked from me.

My mind spun. My body hummed at a level of pleasure I didn’t know my species could achieve. Words seemed weak in comparison to my physical reaction but I felt compelled to make some attempt. “That was –”

“Insemination complete.”

Blarting med droid! I hadn’t heard him enter and would have cursed him if I did. He said twelve hours, and we weren’t anywhere close to that. Didn’t we even get to enjoy the afterglow?

Zian had already become a puddle — in fact I would have missed him had he not stabbed me sharply in the ankle. My “ouch” coincided with a sharp jab at the base of my neck. Null serum. Great. Best sex of my life wiped out in seconds.

“Your function here, Digger HH485, is complete. Your account has been credited. You have been granted an extra hour in the restoration chamber before you return to work. Leave immediately.”

Without even a chance to say goodbye to… Blart! Damn serum.

Apparently my angry contemplation of those lost memories was ill advised. “Leave or be removed,” the droid ordered tonelessly. I’d bet a good credit the machine hoped for a struggle.

Then I felt a nudge at my back. Not so much as a nudge, but a shove. Though I saw nothing behind me but a pool of… something, the light shove got my feet moving in the direction of the door.

As I wound my way toward the Health Center’s exit — I assumed there was a way out of the blarting maze of halls — I decided an hour or so in a restoration chamber didn’t sound like a bad idea. Although why such a bonus had been granted to me during mid-shift mystified me.

However, the closer I got to my chamber — to call the box a room would be an insult to most of the station’s utility closets — the more I felt like I’d been hit by a Moranian brain scrambler. (Yes, getting hit blarting hurts, and it’s one memory I could live without, thank you very much.)

My ankle also hurt. Nothing compared to my head, but something so simple should be easily taken care of with a dab of Fixter one could get from any med box in the station halls. But as I stopped at one, the idea of touching that particular ache seemed like such a bad idea that I shut the cover and kept moving along. (Brains are not “one size fits all” so you have to go to a med station for that, in case you were wondering — and my scrambled brain didn’t like that idea either.)

Once snuggly ensconced in my berth, I sucked down a mineral supplement and then activated the regeneration feature.

Dreams. Vivid, tactile dreams that shouldn’t happen during regeneration, but then neither should the coupling I witnessed between me and a version of the deepest fantasy I’d had all my adult life. Except this time my gorgeous blue partner had a name, Xzavia’n. Zian.

What in the blarting universe was happening to me?