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roxyTitle: A Young Kryptonian's Travels Or, Strangers are Friends We have Not Yet Met
Fandom:SV
Pairing:Kal-El/OCs, Kal-El/Lex
Rating:NC-17
Summary:A little bit of this, a little bit of that and stirred into a totally self-indulgent stew. This is just for fun! Also, this contains bits of nearly every SF story I've ever read.
Part One here.
The Tour. A young Kryptonian, finally declared a citizen, had many options—a great many of them chose the Tour as a way to familiarize themselves with Krypton's many worlds, the way they were governed, what role they were expected to play in the great scheme of the Grand Dominion, and most importantly of course, to sample the tremendous variety of mind-altering drugs each different culture and race had to offer. And of course, sex. Lots and lots of alien ass. After all, as the saying went, what occurred on the surface of alien worlds or on the decks of non-Kryptonian space stations, remained on alien worlds or non- Kryptonian space stations.
Citizens occupied a unique niche in the universe. Wherever they went, they were automatically treated with deference—obsequious deference. If not, the offending subject went to Hell. Hell was a place designed to instruct non citizens and workers on how best to serve Citizens. Instruction, not torture. Kryptonians didn’t torture. Of course, in Hell, war was peace, freedom was slavery, so forth and so on….
Time in Hell depended on the crime, on the whim of the Hell Master, on how bored the techs were that particular day, or how displeased they were with what basically amounted to exile in their minds. Hells were staffed only by Kryptonians, testy, irritable, vengeful Kryptonians, no matter the planet. Only the Masters had the right to punish their subjects, since everything their subjects owned, including their lives--their bodies--belonged to Krypton. And Kryptonians took a dim view of someone else playing with their toys.
The first thing Kal-El noticed was there were no 'robots' off world. There were many real metal and circuit robots, but no genetically altered animals. Kal quickly overcame his disappointment, fascinated as he was with every thing else in his new environment.
After a week long series of good-bye parties and even an unexpected farewell gift from the Royal Cousin, he'd taken leave of his family at the base of Kandor Elevator.
Crying and hugging each other, promising to send pictures and mail every day, fending off Grand-dad's offers of armed guards to travel with him, they'd waved at each other long after the ship traveling up the Elevator strand had passed out of Krypton's blue-pink sky and was crawling into the ebony of space. At that point Kal fought the butterflies that filled his stomach. He was traveling on what was nearly a string that stretched from the planet surface to Krypton Station high above.
He turned round and round in the little cabin he was going to occupy for the next few days. It was…odd. He was completely alone. No Mother or Father, no Frank or Nurse or any one of the staff of dozens his parents had to help run the house…his eyes filled for a moment. It was silly how much he missed them. Besides, he wasn't really alone—not now, not with his interface with the AI busily working away in its berth in his skull. He rubbed his fingers across his head, and marveled.
Though it was silent at the moment, a subtle physical signal from Kal-El would activate the link, and allow him access to any information, entertainment—anything that Kal might find interesting or necessary would be available to him. It was a marvel, he thought. He'd never get used to it.
And the first two days he'd been jacked into the System had been spent laying in the dark, in his bedroom.
His father had smiled knowingly, when hunger and exhaustion and lack of tissues had finally driven him out.
"Just like being there, hunh?" his father had grinned.
Birdie ran right back into his room….
And now, here he was, a grown man, with interface and his personal field needing only to be activated on planets with a red sun. Most oxygen bearing planets had yellow suns though, and on those planets, no field was needed—on those planets, Kryptonians were gods. More god-like.
Invincible.
They were pretty darn cool.
Kal-El spent almost a month training in simulated yellow sunlight for the trip—no Kryptonian was about to embarrass the Supreme Commander and Guardian of the Galaxy His Royal Majesty Kar-El by accidentally setting a city on fire or freezing an ocean with a sneeze or something. He couldn't *wait* to land on the planets with yellow suns— to run faster than a laser canon blast, to be able to leap higher than the Hall of Science—he'd be able to boil water with just the wish for it, and he was sure that would come in handy. Like…if he needed tea super-fast…oh, and he could also look forward to being able to see through anything, like clothing…especially clothing....
Kal spent the next three days in bed. Room service was readily available and didn't smirk when it came to his door, unlike a certain Director of Science he could name…
He was mentally exploring an ocean world populated by friendly mermen, and discovering that not only was sex underwater fun, but the principals could be applied to air also, as in personal flight, so—very educational…a few tissues later, the announcement of station fall whispered over the interface. Heart skipping with excitement, he showered quickly and dressed in travel clothes, the Sun signet of Rao prominent on the tunic shoulder, and the small shield of the House of El, the colors indicating the minor branch, right under it. He shoved his cabin clothing and the tissues into the DisposAll in the tiny bathroom's wall, heard the faint whoosh of instantly incinerating refuse.
A quick sweep of the brush through his disobedient hair, double checking to make sure he had his luggage claim chip, and he was ready to face his future. "Onward, oh traveler, into the mysterious night!"
A gentle bump told him that the transport had docked, and he strode to the exit, towards a waiting crowd of passengers. He stood at the end of the line, happily humming, flipping the little luggage claim into the air and catching it as he looked about in fascination and suddenly, he realized that though a moment ago there had been quite a crowd ahead of him, he was strangely at the head of the line….
The attendant coughed lightly. "Master…if it pleases you, the station attendants are thrilled to direct you to your waiting ship."
Kal-El looked about. Master? He looked behind him, and the crowd that had been in front and was now in back of him did their best to shift facial features into the semblance of pleased smiles.
"Me? You're waiting for me?" The concept was totally alien to Kal. Someone wanted to do his bidding...why?
The attendant looked surprised for a moment before the expression was replaced by fear. Kal-El felt he was missing something vital here…
"Master, is there something you require before you *disembark*?" The attendant emphasized disembark, and cast his eyes toward the open door and the attendants station-side, standing with varying expressions of helpfulness in place, and his bags. One of them held up a bag, and shook it enticingly. "Sir…Your luggage…"
Kal-El stepped forward, and heard the swell of relieved sighs behind him. He stepped onto the deck of the space ship and it hit him—he wasn't sure but he suspected no one on the elevator would have made a move until he did...but why? He wasn't royalty…he thought, was all that just because I'm Krptonese? But…we're all equal off planet aren’t we? Wasn't that the point of the Dominion—separate, equal and joined by the common goal the Emperor inspired in all of them? One of the attendants coughed lightly, and winced, and held the bag up again with an expression of encouragement. The others next to him slid inches away, leaving that particular person surrounded by…air.
Kal stepped forward and took the bags. "Thank you so much—which way to the ship?"
"We will escort you, your nobleness."
*****
They watched the young Kryptonian trot off after the attendants.
"Idiot," muttered someone in the crowd. "But I say that with great respect."
"Oh yes, the greatest respect for the young dolt," an Averid whistled.
"Yes, yes, thank Krypton and Rao for enlightenment," an armored turtle-like worker said, and snatched his bags from the conveyor.
"Goodness yes, all praises be—what an asshole," another turtle being murmured before the passengers rapidly dispersed.
The little group of station attendants watched the hurrying crowd, and tracked the dark head bobbing over most of the crowd, on its way to the docks.
"Is it me, or do they get stupider every year?" one of the attendants muttered.
"Rao will strike you dead for that," said his companion.
"Ha! I wish—I've got to report to Hell for treating the Master like the idiot he is," moaned the attendant who'd forced the young Krypto along.
"This one did seem genuinely confused and kind of sweet…" a female attendant said and blushed a bit.
"You're just full of post pregnancy hormones—that makes you stupid too."
A shaggy haired driver, four legged and with the torso of a humanoid, directed passengers to a transport cart, and tossed in his two credits. "Not to mention that he was very attractive for a hairless biped. Such pretty eyes."
The rest of the group turned to look at him, and under the thin fur covering his face, his cheeks flared red.
"Pervert." There was muttered agreement all around.
*****
Kal's first ship-boarding was an enormous thrill. He raced around his suite, playing with the shower, and the entertainment wall. He flipped through what seemed to be a thousand channels. He glowered as he sped through the channels again and again…half of them seemed to be selling something….
He checked the time, and the interface told him that it was seven in the evening Kryptonian time, and that the temperature in his cabin was a pleasant sixty-five degrees and that the approach to the jump point would take twenty hours and he had five messages waiting and a new erotic film was waiting to be viewed and Kal desperately requested silence. The AI was worse than Jor-El on a chatty day. He thought he really should check his mail, but it was probably just his parents wanting him to wear a jacket and wash behind his ears. As a new Citizen he should also check the planetary news, but that could wait. The bed was enormous and looked so comfortable, and he was tired. Really tired this time—a bit of the gloss was coming off of free access to pornography whenever he wanted it.
He lay down and looked over the little pamphlet he'd found tucked in the bedside table. When he pressed his thumb against the sheet, a menu displayed, offering the different functions available. He chose information about the ship and the pamphlet told him that the ship was very, very safe, that traveling was safer than driving a personal car, that they would enter hyperspace in under twenty hours and that they would be asleep during the transition from real time to travel time. His first stop was Avelon. He looked forward to it. It was a beautiful planet, worlds famous for its music and the people and was a favorite vacation spot or so it said in his copy of "A Young Gentleman's Guide To The Tour". The book was very informative, full of information on hotels, places to eat, points of interest.
He thumbed through it again, and tossed it into the DisposAll.
Right.
Now to find out what was *really* interesting ship board.
*****
Kal wandered the corridors of the ship, amazed that so much could be contained in a shell and shot into space. It was just like being in the shopping district of Argo, just as colorful and full of life. He spent too long choosing gifts for his family, and even bought a small silver bracelet he thought would look good on Rwfrtz. He thought for a moment, and bought slippers for Frank and Nurse. He could give the slippers openly, but he'd need Nurse's cooperation to give the catrobot his gift. He held the slippers in his hands, and thought maybe Nurse would like something else instead, like one of the shawls hanging in the window of the shop, roomy enough to accommodate all eight of her tentacles…or wax for her beak. He thought of her fondly, her big round head, her soft brown eyes…Nurse was the fondest part of his childhood. It was a great kindness of Mothers that she kept her on, even though he'd long outgrown any need for a nurse...Lara was so sentimental.
He shook his head and wiped a tear, and bought a small figurine of a squid that reminded him of Nurse. And the shawl.
*****
After dinner, Kal watched the stars from the observation deck, and watched the crowd also. He loved people in all their fascinating variety. It never occurred to him that he might be an object of interest also, and not just because of his Kryptonian heritage.
After a bit, he realized he was being watched by two men, one was a Daxamite, just like Frank. Daxamites were very much the same as Kryptonians physically--it was common for indentured servants like Frank to be tattooed to distinguish them from Citizens.
The other man was a Morne, from The United Morne Free Worlds. Tall, mostly covered with short thin fur, he had a cat like face that reminded Kal of the catrobots at home, but just a little, the resemblance stopped at the feline aspects—the sword and gun buckled at his hip, the knife tucked in a boot, the earrings all along the edges of his tall pointed ears, the tattoos swirled around his eye sockets would never have been allowed for most slaves, subjects or workers of Krypton, but the Morne were the one race Krypton failed to conquer.
Their battles ended in bloody draws, the Kryptonians were opposed to mass destruction of valuable property and lacked the one quality the Morne possessed in abundance—a suicidal willingness to never surrender. In the end, the Morne agreed to let Krypton claim to have rule over them, and Krypton agreed to pretend they didn't exist. They were the only sentient race allowed to carry arms at all times and they made the most of it. Morne clanked when they walked.
None of this interested Kal at all. Over six foot of muscular cat did. The little Daxamite was interesting mostly for being with the Morne. He wondered if the man was a servant. His body language seemed to imply he wasn't…Kal blushed deep red from head to toe—his over-obvious scrutiny was being returned.
The Morne stalked over to him and pushed him against the wall of the observation deck. Kal hacked and whuffed out a deep breath—he was pretty sure his lungs had just collapsed. Rao—first day on his big journey and he was about to be eaten and not in that fun giggly way cuz Mon-El was so good at—"Excuse me, what?" he panted. He must have been hallucinating; he thought for sure the Morne said—
"I am Caar. Come to my suite, my companion and I wish to fuck you." His whiskers drew forward and Caar leaned forward also, and whiffed air into his open mouth. "You will enjoy it," he grinned and slitted eyes gleamed emerald green. "I will."
Kal found himself following the giant and his small companion as if tethered to them…defenseless, helpless, and horny as hell….
The sandpaper lick of Caar's tongue on his skin made him whine and writhe across the sheets. It was such an amazing, excruciatingly erotic experience, close enough to pain to make the pleasure that much more intense—he arched when the broad flat tongue licked a circle around his navel—and at the same time, lithe small fingers worked their way inside him, clever knowing fingers, well aware of the interior ring of muscle inside of him, packed with nerve-ending just waiting to drive ecstasy right into his brain.
"I'm going to fuck you, but you have to stay still for a moment," the other said, and Kal nodded frantically.
Still, yes he could do that—but not for long—"yow!" The thick slide into him made his eyes roll back, and his mouth fall open—he groaned as heat pushed against the ring, and stimulated the flow of slick fluid that eased the passage of what Kal was guessing was a very damn *big* penis…remember, he told himself, little didn't necessarily mean little all over….
"Like that, Master Boy?" The man behind him rocked up until he was buried so deep in Kal, the stiff hairs surrounding his penis scraped at the sensitive inner skin of Kal's ass, and that made it even better. He rocked back on his heels and tried to take control of the pace but he held Kal back, pushed him forward until his head was bowed and brushing the erect penis in front of him.
'Oh! What a wonderful smell,' Kal thought, startled at how different this Caar smelled, how intense and familiar it was—like cinnamon and grass and pepper…He licked, and the flavor of the Morne flowed over his tongue and made him moan…why, he was delicious! He eagerly sucked him in, drinking the fluid that dribbled onto his tongue, swallowing him deeper and deeper, he opened his throat and swallowed again and the Morne growled, gripped handfuls of his hair and fucked his throat. Ouch. He reached up and slapped his hands away. "Hair," Kal muttered and went back to the task at hand.
"Mrrrr…sorry. Good work, Krypton, prepare yourself, it's coming…"
Kal felt a brief sting of disappointment--already? Caar fit his mouth so well, and he tasted sweet and so good—with a shout the Morne ejaculated, filling his mouth with creamy, hot and above all, wonderfully tasty come.
The Daxamite started fucking him seriously, angled so that each scrape of his fat penis against that ring slammed onto him like liquid fire, burning him inside and out in a wonderful way—he felt liquid gushing down the back of his legs and blushed a little—he was a terrible leaker once he really got started, but the other just groaned louder and fucked him slower but deeper, with a little twist that made him sob. Kal's penis was rock hard and stiff against his belly, every jostle slapped it against him and it threw pre-come over his belly and legs and the bed and the Morne's hand…
"It feels good, Krypton, your dick is very pretty, very hard…virile. And big." The rough pads of the Morne's fingers were driving Kal crazy—he drove himself into Caar's fist and panted harder, rough and then soft all over him as the fur on Caar's palms grew damp.
Between the fiery stimulation behind and the good rough-soft stimulation of Caar's hand, Kal could imagine dying of impossibly good sex and then Caar leaned forward and his tongue out. Kal anticipated the flat rough scrub of tongue over the head of his penis, shivered-- the Daxamite pulled his hips close and fucked him hard enough to lift him off his knees and Caar did something that made his tongue long and thin and pointed and screwed that pointed tip right into the slit of Kal's penis, and Kal threw his head back and screamed long and loud….
Behind him the Daxamite cursed, groaned—his hips slapped wetly against Kal's ass as he orgasmed and the combination of the hot flood of come past the ring and the inside of his slit being stroked by the rough thin spear of Caar's tongue sent Kal into violent spasms—come spurt out in a jet high above his head, the next explosion dripped from under his chin, the last jet slicked his chest…he shuddered hard from head to toe, wringing a groan of painful ecstasy from the Daxamite, and slumped in into the hold of furry arms around his waist and marble smooth arms around his chest. He was sure heaven must be like this.
Travel promised to be even more educational than he'd been led to believe by "A Young Gentleman's Guide To The Tour".
"Ah my fucking Rao," Kal breathed…
"Blessed I am," the Morne laughed with a sound like water rushing over rocks.
TBC!
part 3
Fandom:SV
Pairing:Kal-El/OCs, Kal-El/Lex
Rating:NC-17
Summary:A little bit of this, a little bit of that and stirred into a totally self-indulgent stew. This is just for fun! Also, this contains bits of nearly every SF story I've ever read.
Part One here.
The Tour. A young Kryptonian, finally declared a citizen, had many options—a great many of them chose the Tour as a way to familiarize themselves with Krypton's many worlds, the way they were governed, what role they were expected to play in the great scheme of the Grand Dominion, and most importantly of course, to sample the tremendous variety of mind-altering drugs each different culture and race had to offer. And of course, sex. Lots and lots of alien ass. After all, as the saying went, what occurred on the surface of alien worlds or on the decks of non-Kryptonian space stations, remained on alien worlds or non- Kryptonian space stations.
Citizens occupied a unique niche in the universe. Wherever they went, they were automatically treated with deference—obsequious deference. If not, the offending subject went to Hell. Hell was a place designed to instruct non citizens and workers on how best to serve Citizens. Instruction, not torture. Kryptonians didn’t torture. Of course, in Hell, war was peace, freedom was slavery, so forth and so on….
Time in Hell depended on the crime, on the whim of the Hell Master, on how bored the techs were that particular day, or how displeased they were with what basically amounted to exile in their minds. Hells were staffed only by Kryptonians, testy, irritable, vengeful Kryptonians, no matter the planet. Only the Masters had the right to punish their subjects, since everything their subjects owned, including their lives--their bodies--belonged to Krypton. And Kryptonians took a dim view of someone else playing with their toys.
The first thing Kal-El noticed was there were no 'robots' off world. There were many real metal and circuit robots, but no genetically altered animals. Kal quickly overcame his disappointment, fascinated as he was with every thing else in his new environment.
After a week long series of good-bye parties and even an unexpected farewell gift from the Royal Cousin, he'd taken leave of his family at the base of Kandor Elevator.
Crying and hugging each other, promising to send pictures and mail every day, fending off Grand-dad's offers of armed guards to travel with him, they'd waved at each other long after the ship traveling up the Elevator strand had passed out of Krypton's blue-pink sky and was crawling into the ebony of space. At that point Kal fought the butterflies that filled his stomach. He was traveling on what was nearly a string that stretched from the planet surface to Krypton Station high above.
He turned round and round in the little cabin he was going to occupy for the next few days. It was…odd. He was completely alone. No Mother or Father, no Frank or Nurse or any one of the staff of dozens his parents had to help run the house…his eyes filled for a moment. It was silly how much he missed them. Besides, he wasn't really alone—not now, not with his interface with the AI busily working away in its berth in his skull. He rubbed his fingers across his head, and marveled.
Though it was silent at the moment, a subtle physical signal from Kal-El would activate the link, and allow him access to any information, entertainment—anything that Kal might find interesting or necessary would be available to him. It was a marvel, he thought. He'd never get used to it.
And the first two days he'd been jacked into the System had been spent laying in the dark, in his bedroom.
His father had smiled knowingly, when hunger and exhaustion and lack of tissues had finally driven him out.
"Just like being there, hunh?" his father had grinned.
Birdie ran right back into his room….
And now, here he was, a grown man, with interface and his personal field needing only to be activated on planets with a red sun. Most oxygen bearing planets had yellow suns though, and on those planets, no field was needed—on those planets, Kryptonians were gods. More god-like.
Invincible.
They were pretty darn cool.
Kal-El spent almost a month training in simulated yellow sunlight for the trip—no Kryptonian was about to embarrass the Supreme Commander and Guardian of the Galaxy His Royal Majesty Kar-El by accidentally setting a city on fire or freezing an ocean with a sneeze or something. He couldn't *wait* to land on the planets with yellow suns— to run faster than a laser canon blast, to be able to leap higher than the Hall of Science—he'd be able to boil water with just the wish for it, and he was sure that would come in handy. Like…if he needed tea super-fast…oh, and he could also look forward to being able to see through anything, like clothing…especially clothing....
Kal spent the next three days in bed. Room service was readily available and didn't smirk when it came to his door, unlike a certain Director of Science he could name…
He was mentally exploring an ocean world populated by friendly mermen, and discovering that not only was sex underwater fun, but the principals could be applied to air also, as in personal flight, so—very educational…a few tissues later, the announcement of station fall whispered over the interface. Heart skipping with excitement, he showered quickly and dressed in travel clothes, the Sun signet of Rao prominent on the tunic shoulder, and the small shield of the House of El, the colors indicating the minor branch, right under it. He shoved his cabin clothing and the tissues into the DisposAll in the tiny bathroom's wall, heard the faint whoosh of instantly incinerating refuse.
A quick sweep of the brush through his disobedient hair, double checking to make sure he had his luggage claim chip, and he was ready to face his future. "Onward, oh traveler, into the mysterious night!"
A gentle bump told him that the transport had docked, and he strode to the exit, towards a waiting crowd of passengers. He stood at the end of the line, happily humming, flipping the little luggage claim into the air and catching it as he looked about in fascination and suddenly, he realized that though a moment ago there had been quite a crowd ahead of him, he was strangely at the head of the line….
The attendant coughed lightly. "Master…if it pleases you, the station attendants are thrilled to direct you to your waiting ship."
Kal-El looked about. Master? He looked behind him, and the crowd that had been in front and was now in back of him did their best to shift facial features into the semblance of pleased smiles.
"Me? You're waiting for me?" The concept was totally alien to Kal. Someone wanted to do his bidding...why?
The attendant looked surprised for a moment before the expression was replaced by fear. Kal-El felt he was missing something vital here…
"Master, is there something you require before you *disembark*?" The attendant emphasized disembark, and cast his eyes toward the open door and the attendants station-side, standing with varying expressions of helpfulness in place, and his bags. One of them held up a bag, and shook it enticingly. "Sir…Your luggage…"
Kal-El stepped forward, and heard the swell of relieved sighs behind him. He stepped onto the deck of the space ship and it hit him—he wasn't sure but he suspected no one on the elevator would have made a move until he did...but why? He wasn't royalty…he thought, was all that just because I'm Krptonese? But…we're all equal off planet aren’t we? Wasn't that the point of the Dominion—separate, equal and joined by the common goal the Emperor inspired in all of them? One of the attendants coughed lightly, and winced, and held the bag up again with an expression of encouragement. The others next to him slid inches away, leaving that particular person surrounded by…air.
Kal stepped forward and took the bags. "Thank you so much—which way to the ship?"
"We will escort you, your nobleness."
*****
They watched the young Kryptonian trot off after the attendants.
"Idiot," muttered someone in the crowd. "But I say that with great respect."
"Oh yes, the greatest respect for the young dolt," an Averid whistled.
"Yes, yes, thank Krypton and Rao for enlightenment," an armored turtle-like worker said, and snatched his bags from the conveyor.
"Goodness yes, all praises be—what an asshole," another turtle being murmured before the passengers rapidly dispersed.
The little group of station attendants watched the hurrying crowd, and tracked the dark head bobbing over most of the crowd, on its way to the docks.
"Is it me, or do they get stupider every year?" one of the attendants muttered.
"Rao will strike you dead for that," said his companion.
"Ha! I wish—I've got to report to Hell for treating the Master like the idiot he is," moaned the attendant who'd forced the young Krypto along.
"This one did seem genuinely confused and kind of sweet…" a female attendant said and blushed a bit.
"You're just full of post pregnancy hormones—that makes you stupid too."
A shaggy haired driver, four legged and with the torso of a humanoid, directed passengers to a transport cart, and tossed in his two credits. "Not to mention that he was very attractive for a hairless biped. Such pretty eyes."
The rest of the group turned to look at him, and under the thin fur covering his face, his cheeks flared red.
"Pervert." There was muttered agreement all around.
*****
Kal's first ship-boarding was an enormous thrill. He raced around his suite, playing with the shower, and the entertainment wall. He flipped through what seemed to be a thousand channels. He glowered as he sped through the channels again and again…half of them seemed to be selling something….
He checked the time, and the interface told him that it was seven in the evening Kryptonian time, and that the temperature in his cabin was a pleasant sixty-five degrees and that the approach to the jump point would take twenty hours and he had five messages waiting and a new erotic film was waiting to be viewed and Kal desperately requested silence. The AI was worse than Jor-El on a chatty day. He thought he really should check his mail, but it was probably just his parents wanting him to wear a jacket and wash behind his ears. As a new Citizen he should also check the planetary news, but that could wait. The bed was enormous and looked so comfortable, and he was tired. Really tired this time—a bit of the gloss was coming off of free access to pornography whenever he wanted it.
He lay down and looked over the little pamphlet he'd found tucked in the bedside table. When he pressed his thumb against the sheet, a menu displayed, offering the different functions available. He chose information about the ship and the pamphlet told him that the ship was very, very safe, that traveling was safer than driving a personal car, that they would enter hyperspace in under twenty hours and that they would be asleep during the transition from real time to travel time. His first stop was Avelon. He looked forward to it. It was a beautiful planet, worlds famous for its music and the people and was a favorite vacation spot or so it said in his copy of "A Young Gentleman's Guide To The Tour". The book was very informative, full of information on hotels, places to eat, points of interest.
He thumbed through it again, and tossed it into the DisposAll.
Right.
Now to find out what was *really* interesting ship board.
*****
Kal wandered the corridors of the ship, amazed that so much could be contained in a shell and shot into space. It was just like being in the shopping district of Argo, just as colorful and full of life. He spent too long choosing gifts for his family, and even bought a small silver bracelet he thought would look good on Rwfrtz. He thought for a moment, and bought slippers for Frank and Nurse. He could give the slippers openly, but he'd need Nurse's cooperation to give the catrobot his gift. He held the slippers in his hands, and thought maybe Nurse would like something else instead, like one of the shawls hanging in the window of the shop, roomy enough to accommodate all eight of her tentacles…or wax for her beak. He thought of her fondly, her big round head, her soft brown eyes…Nurse was the fondest part of his childhood. It was a great kindness of Mothers that she kept her on, even though he'd long outgrown any need for a nurse...Lara was so sentimental.
He shook his head and wiped a tear, and bought a small figurine of a squid that reminded him of Nurse. And the shawl.
*****
After dinner, Kal watched the stars from the observation deck, and watched the crowd also. He loved people in all their fascinating variety. It never occurred to him that he might be an object of interest also, and not just because of his Kryptonian heritage.
After a bit, he realized he was being watched by two men, one was a Daxamite, just like Frank. Daxamites were very much the same as Kryptonians physically--it was common for indentured servants like Frank to be tattooed to distinguish them from Citizens.
The other man was a Morne, from The United Morne Free Worlds. Tall, mostly covered with short thin fur, he had a cat like face that reminded Kal of the catrobots at home, but just a little, the resemblance stopped at the feline aspects—the sword and gun buckled at his hip, the knife tucked in a boot, the earrings all along the edges of his tall pointed ears, the tattoos swirled around his eye sockets would never have been allowed for most slaves, subjects or workers of Krypton, but the Morne were the one race Krypton failed to conquer.
Their battles ended in bloody draws, the Kryptonians were opposed to mass destruction of valuable property and lacked the one quality the Morne possessed in abundance—a suicidal willingness to never surrender. In the end, the Morne agreed to let Krypton claim to have rule over them, and Krypton agreed to pretend they didn't exist. They were the only sentient race allowed to carry arms at all times and they made the most of it. Morne clanked when they walked.
None of this interested Kal at all. Over six foot of muscular cat did. The little Daxamite was interesting mostly for being with the Morne. He wondered if the man was a servant. His body language seemed to imply he wasn't…Kal blushed deep red from head to toe—his over-obvious scrutiny was being returned.
The Morne stalked over to him and pushed him against the wall of the observation deck. Kal hacked and whuffed out a deep breath—he was pretty sure his lungs had just collapsed. Rao—first day on his big journey and he was about to be eaten and not in that fun giggly way cuz Mon-El was so good at—"Excuse me, what?" he panted. He must have been hallucinating; he thought for sure the Morne said—
"I am Caar. Come to my suite, my companion and I wish to fuck you." His whiskers drew forward and Caar leaned forward also, and whiffed air into his open mouth. "You will enjoy it," he grinned and slitted eyes gleamed emerald green. "I will."
Kal found himself following the giant and his small companion as if tethered to them…defenseless, helpless, and horny as hell….
The sandpaper lick of Caar's tongue on his skin made him whine and writhe across the sheets. It was such an amazing, excruciatingly erotic experience, close enough to pain to make the pleasure that much more intense—he arched when the broad flat tongue licked a circle around his navel—and at the same time, lithe small fingers worked their way inside him, clever knowing fingers, well aware of the interior ring of muscle inside of him, packed with nerve-ending just waiting to drive ecstasy right into his brain.
"I'm going to fuck you, but you have to stay still for a moment," the other said, and Kal nodded frantically.
Still, yes he could do that—but not for long—"yow!" The thick slide into him made his eyes roll back, and his mouth fall open—he groaned as heat pushed against the ring, and stimulated the flow of slick fluid that eased the passage of what Kal was guessing was a very damn *big* penis…remember, he told himself, little didn't necessarily mean little all over….
"Like that, Master Boy?" The man behind him rocked up until he was buried so deep in Kal, the stiff hairs surrounding his penis scraped at the sensitive inner skin of Kal's ass, and that made it even better. He rocked back on his heels and tried to take control of the pace but he held Kal back, pushed him forward until his head was bowed and brushing the erect penis in front of him.
'Oh! What a wonderful smell,' Kal thought, startled at how different this Caar smelled, how intense and familiar it was—like cinnamon and grass and pepper…He licked, and the flavor of the Morne flowed over his tongue and made him moan…why, he was delicious! He eagerly sucked him in, drinking the fluid that dribbled onto his tongue, swallowing him deeper and deeper, he opened his throat and swallowed again and the Morne growled, gripped handfuls of his hair and fucked his throat. Ouch. He reached up and slapped his hands away. "Hair," Kal muttered and went back to the task at hand.
"Mrrrr…sorry. Good work, Krypton, prepare yourself, it's coming…"
Kal felt a brief sting of disappointment--already? Caar fit his mouth so well, and he tasted sweet and so good—with a shout the Morne ejaculated, filling his mouth with creamy, hot and above all, wonderfully tasty come.
The Daxamite started fucking him seriously, angled so that each scrape of his fat penis against that ring slammed onto him like liquid fire, burning him inside and out in a wonderful way—he felt liquid gushing down the back of his legs and blushed a little—he was a terrible leaker once he really got started, but the other just groaned louder and fucked him slower but deeper, with a little twist that made him sob. Kal's penis was rock hard and stiff against his belly, every jostle slapped it against him and it threw pre-come over his belly and legs and the bed and the Morne's hand…
"It feels good, Krypton, your dick is very pretty, very hard…virile. And big." The rough pads of the Morne's fingers were driving Kal crazy—he drove himself into Caar's fist and panted harder, rough and then soft all over him as the fur on Caar's palms grew damp.
Between the fiery stimulation behind and the good rough-soft stimulation of Caar's hand, Kal could imagine dying of impossibly good sex and then Caar leaned forward and his tongue out. Kal anticipated the flat rough scrub of tongue over the head of his penis, shivered-- the Daxamite pulled his hips close and fucked him hard enough to lift him off his knees and Caar did something that made his tongue long and thin and pointed and screwed that pointed tip right into the slit of Kal's penis, and Kal threw his head back and screamed long and loud….
Behind him the Daxamite cursed, groaned—his hips slapped wetly against Kal's ass as he orgasmed and the combination of the hot flood of come past the ring and the inside of his slit being stroked by the rough thin spear of Caar's tongue sent Kal into violent spasms—come spurt out in a jet high above his head, the next explosion dripped from under his chin, the last jet slicked his chest…he shuddered hard from head to toe, wringing a groan of painful ecstasy from the Daxamite, and slumped in into the hold of furry arms around his waist and marble smooth arms around his chest. He was sure heaven must be like this.
Travel promised to be even more educational than he'd been led to believe by "A Young Gentleman's Guide To The Tour".
"Ah my fucking Rao," Kal breathed…
"Blessed I am," the Morne laughed with a sound like water rushing over rocks.
TBC!
part 3
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(no subject)
6/17/07 08:26 pm (UTC)Kal is such a slut! And I mean that in a good way.
He does have a thing for cats, doesn't he?
(no subject)
6/17/07 10:34 pm (UTC)Yes! He is a huge slut--it's a kink, I must confess *hangs head, but only to hide shameless grin*
Poor Kal, he's a sucker for whiskers! *G*
(no subject)
6/17/07 08:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/18/07 01:53 am (UTC)And meeting Lex--yes! It's going to change everything!
(no subject)
6/17/07 08:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/18/07 01:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/17/07 08:41 pm (UTC)The cat alien reminded me of a Kzinti!
(no subject)
6/18/07 02:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/17/07 09:27 pm (UTC)I love that Kal will always be just alittle slow - yes it's totally part of his charm - but the boy is always just alittle too sheltered, making him just alittle dim when it comes to personal interactions.
HeeeHeee, Love how all the Kryptonian "subjects" talk such smack about there vaguely out of touch rulers. And at least there are a few species - the Morne, Lex Luthor - that the Kryptonians can't conquer, it will keep them humble (and Kal infatuated for the rest of his life - hee)
(no subject)
6/18/07 02:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/17/07 09:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/18/07 02:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/17/07 10:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/18/07 02:16 am (UTC)*snorfle*
(no subject)
6/18/07 01:28 am (UTC)He's such an adorable slut, isn't he? ;)
Ps... I love you for writing this. *grins*
(no subject)
6/18/07 02:17 am (UTC)Hey, a body can only take so much angst!
(no subject)
6/20/07 04:01 am (UTC)Convenient, no? *G*
(no subject)
6/18/07 08:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/18/07 10:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/18/07 08:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/18/07 10:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/19/07 07:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/20/07 04:00 am (UTC)Heeeeee! *blushgiggle*
(no subject)
6/20/07 05:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/19/07 12:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/20/07 04:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
6/26/07 05:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
6/27/07 01:46 am (UTC)"After all, as the saying went, what occurred on the surface of alien worlds or on the decks of non-Kryptonian space stations, remained on alien worlds or non- Kryptonian space stations."
Good, good lines. I lurve you, and your smut. This is wrong, this is very wrong.
(no subject)
7/2/07 05:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/9/07 02:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
8/9/07 03:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/27/12 06:42 pm (UTC)Also, Hell is 1984?
(no subject)
7/27/12 08:58 pm (UTC)Oh, Kal is a complete and total equal opportunity slut throughout the whole fic!
Yes! Hell is 1984, with all the nice parts sanded off. *G*
(no subject)
11/27/12 06:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/27/12 07:41 pm (UTC)