Black Velvet

Zuki laughed, her throat vibrating around him, Jules wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. His pain was short-lived, however, Zuki moaning around his shaft as she pressed it ever deeper. Jules found himself wondering how she wasn't choking on him. Her lung capacity far exceeded that of any human, she didn't need to pause to take a breath for amounts of time that were downright alarming. When she finally relented, she pursed her lips around his shaft and slid them slowly upwards, cleaning every trace of her bubbling saliva from his skin. She popped him out of her mouth, taking a few staggered breaths and wetting her black lips, making them shine.

"Stroke my ears," she begged, glancing up at him for a moment as she waited for his reply.

"O-of course," he stammered, taking her round ears in his hands and beginning to run the membranes between his fingers like he was polishing a coin. She purred happily, returning her lips to his member, Jules watching as her pink organ snaked out from between them to lap at the tip. Shivers ran up his spine like icy fingers, every stroke of her tongue sending tingling pleasure flowing through him like electricity.

As he massaged her fluffy ears and stroked her hair with his fingers, her blowjob became even more doting and affectionate, Zuki moaning into his lap as she began to bob her head back and forth.

"Fuck," Jules groaned, "slow down Zuki. It's not a r-race!"

"Bud I wahn taste eet," she mumbled around his shaft, sinking her fingers deeper into his butt and poking him with her sharp claws. The steady licking of her agile tongue and the pressure of her soft throat was sapping his strength, how could she be so ruthless, and yet so careful and loving at the same time? She was milking him like he was a dairy cow, but her mouthing and sucking was so impossibly gentle. Drunk Zuki was insatiable, maybe he should keep more of that ale on hand...

Her tongue escaped her lips to lap at his balls, worming its way around them, coating them in her warm drool. The sensation forced his eyes closed, his thighs snapping shut around her face reflexively, but he wasn't strong enough to cause her any discomfort. She took note of his strong reaction, keeping it up as she plunged him into her throat, her every swallow dragging him closer to the edge.

"I can't," he gasped, feeling his mounting pleasure reach the tipping point.

"In my mouf," Zuki demanded, the lurid request and the way that her lips moved around his member pushing him over the line. He took fistfuls of her hair, his cock throbbing in the depths of her throat as she pressed her face into his groin, her wet nose brushing against his belly. She drank down every wad of his emission as it came, her throat undulating around him, the intense stimulation making him cry out in a way that might have embarrassed him under different circumstances.

She kept him locked there, her clenching muscles wringing out every last drop that he could give her, Zuki swallowing lurid mouthfuls of his seed with an enthusiasm that was almost gleeful. It was like she was drinking from him, Jules marveling at the fact that he had anything left for her between the wracking jolts of ecstasy. Gradually, he began to come down from his high, her sucking and licking taking on a slower and more placating quality. She lowered him back to the floor, Jules standing unsteadily as she released her hold on him.

He watched as she turned her back to him, putting the flow of the showerhead directly above her and sitting on the tile, her long tail waving back and forth along the floor like a length of furry rope.

"Now do my back?" she asked, peering over her shoulder at him. He laughed giddily, still woozy from his afterglow, planting his hands into the muscles of her shoulders and beginning to rub as she purred like an engine.

CHAPTER 17: DIPLOMACY

"This is it," Jules said, "are you ready?"

Zuki was walking beside him as they made their way along the torus, clad in her sharp suit, her camouflaged cloak draped across her shoulders. She was wearing her sunglasses, as it was morning, and the sunlamps were lit. They were making their way to the nearest spoke that would take them to the central hub of the station, where the council would soon be in session.

"I'm ready," she replied, holding her head up confidently as they strode through the bustling crowds of people. Jules didn't doubt her, she knew everything that there was to know about the different council members, and she had a game plan. "How do I look?" she asked.

"Professional," he replied with a grin. "How do I smell?"

"Not of me," she said, returning his smile. "You smell like a perfectly normal human, albeit with a rather strong cologne."

"I'll have you know that my cologne smells perfectly fine to humans, it's not designed for Borealan noses."

The curve of the station's torus allowed Jules to see some distance above the throngs of pedestrians, and he spied their destination a short walk upspin. Two guards in black UNN body armor were standing to either side of a large pressure door, their rifles slung across their chests.

"We're coming up on the spoke now," Jules said, glancing up at Zuki. "This is the entrance to one of the walkways that connects the station's torus to the central hub. It's a high-security zone where VIPs and critical station systems are housed. Think of it as the heart and brain of the Pinwheel. Nobody gets in without sufficient clearance."

"Do I need to do anything?" she asked, her tail flicking nervously.

"When we walk up to the guards at the door, they're going to ask to see my ID card. I have access to the hub for today because of the meeting, and you're my plus one. They might ask you some questions, and they'll probably pat you down and search you for weapons or contraband. You didn't bring any knives or anything like that, right?"

"No, I did as you asked," she replied.

"Good, good. Now, when we get through that big door, things are going to get a little weird. The torus, the ring-shaped section of the station, generates its gravity through inertia because it's just too large for an artificial gravity field. Have you ever filled a bucket with water and spun it around?"

"Yes," she replied with a nod.

"The reason the water stays in the bucket is because of inertia. That same force is sticking us to the floor of the station right now. We're walking on the inside of the spinning bucket, so to speak. The thing is, the hub is directly above the torus relative to us," he added as he pointed at the painted sky. "The hub generates its gravity like the ships do, with an AG field. What that all means is that we're going to be transitioning from inertial gravity to an AG field, and we're going to be walking up a ninety-degree bend so that we're level with the hub."

"I...don't really understand," she replied hesitantly, "what will I have to do?"

"Maybe I'm making it sound more complicated than it really is, but it throws a lot of people off. Just stay close to me and walk straight. Whatever your body tells you is happening, that you're going to fall or that you're off-balance, just ignore it and keep your eyes ahead."

"I'll do as you say," she replied.

"Oh, and let me do the talking, at least until we're in the meeting room."

They reached the heavy pressure door, black and yellow warning stripes painted around its frame. It was large enough to let a Krell or perhaps a cart loaded with supplies pass through unhindered. In the event of an emergency, it would seal, either to prevent the atmosphere from escaping or to prevent boarders from accessing the hub. The two guards standing to either side of it turned to greet them, one stepping forward while the other hung back and kept his hands near the XMR that was slung across his chest plate.

"Please state your business," the first guard said, his face hidden behind an opaque visor.

"My name is Jules Lambert," he replied, "I'm a diplomat on my way to a Security Council meeting. We have an appointment in room thirty-six at nine this morning. This is Zuki, my charge. She's here to represent her people during the proceedings."

The Marine tapped at the holographic display on his wrist guard for a moment, seeming satisfied, then he asked Jules for his ID card. Jules handed it to him, and he scanned it, waiting a moment for the computer to confirm his identity.

"Very well, Mister Lambert, you're cleared to proceed. As for your friend, we're going to need to pat her down before we can let her through. It's protocol."

"Of course," Jules said, gesturing to Zuki. "Don't be afraid, he's just going to check your clothes for concealed weapons or monitoring devices."

The Marine walked up to Zuki and retrieved a handheld scanner that was hanging from a loop on his belt. He ran it over her briefly, and it beeped, Jules surmising that it was some kind of metal detector.

"Not picking up any bugs or implants," he muttered. "Please hold your arms out, Ma'am, I'm going to need to pat you down."

He seemed hesitant. If he was a Marine, then he was probably familiar with Borealans, and he might be expecting Zuki to cleave his head off if he accidentally copped a feel. She held her arms out in a T-pose obediently as he reached up to feel around her torso, his search ending rather quickly.

"What the...can you empty your pockets for me, Ma'am?"

Zuki obliged, opening the buttons on her jacket and showing the Marine the contents. Inside the inner lining were the pockets that she had requested the tailor sew into her suit, and she began to open them one by one. Jules couldn't see the man's expression through his helmet, but he liked to think that his eyebrows were raised. The Araxie handed the items to him one after the other, and he began to lay them out in a plastic tray that was sitting on a table beside the door. A length of rope, a roll of cotton bandages, a vial of salt. There was a packet from one of the Borealan MREs that she must have swiped at some point, probably back on the Courser, along with a flameless ration heater. She had her firestarter, a packet of salted chips, her alien coins, and her I heart Pinwheel keyring.

"Can...can she have a rope?" the Marine called to his buddy, who shrugged his armored shoulders and checked his wrist display for a few moments.

"It's not on the list of contraband. I don't see what she could do with it."

"What's this thing?" the first guard asked, turning her firestarter over in his gloved hand.

"That's for starting fires," she explained, "you strike the two pieces together to create a spark."

"I think I'll hang onto this for now," the Marine said as he fished in his pocket for a ziplock bag and dropped the firestarter inside it. He then sealed it shut and placed it back in the tray. "Starting fires on a space station isn't a good idea. You can come collect that on your way back out, alright?"

Zuki looked to Jules for confirmation, and he nodded.

"Don't worry, Zuki, they'll give it back to you when we're done."

"And what's this?" the guard asked, brandishing the corked vial of salt. "What's this white powder?"

"Just salt," she replied.

"Hey, Biggs?" he said as he turned to his companion again. "Bring me the food scanner over, would ya?"

His friend passed him another handheld device, and Jules recognized it as the same one that Simmons and his Marines had used to test the Araxie food back on Borealis. The first guard held the vial under the scanner, the second taking a few steps back and standing with his hand resting on his rifle again, ever vigilant.

"Yeah, it just says sodium," the first guard conceded, beginning to hand the items back to Zuki. "Alright, you two are cleared to go through. Mind your step."

The two guards moved to either side of the pressure door and scanned their key cards on a pair of readers, both being required to open the way. There was a hydraulic hiss as the two interlocking halves of the door slid open, a red warning light flashing. On the other side was a wide hallway, the same white color as the station's hull material, save for the carpeted floor that curved up and out of view. Zuki followed him through the doorway, and then it closed behind them, sealing them on the other side.

From where they were standing, it seemed as though they were facing a sheer wall, Jules' stomach turning as he looked above him to see the hallway extending into the sky. Zuki seemed nervous now. It was one thing to have it explained to you, but quite another to see it in person. Gravity was an invisible force, after all, and the brains of terrestrial species were not adapted to such strange and unnatural geometry. It looked like something about of a damned M.C Escher painting.

"Here we go," Jules muttered, "just keep walking. Try not to think about it."

Taking his own advice, he kept his eyes firmly on the ground, walking up the gentle curve. There was a moment where the gravity shifted, his inner ear going haywire, insisting that he was about to fall. But he powered through it until he found himself on level ground once again. Relieved, he turned to look back, Zuki standing at a ninety-degree angle relative to him. She looked like she was sticking to a wall.

"See?" he said, spreading his arms to show that it was no big deal. "Everything's fine, you can do it. Come towards me."

Zuki didn't think that it was so trivial, her ears flattening against her head in apprehension. She inched forwards, her tail held out straight for balance, crouching lower and lower as she walked up the steep incline. By the time she reached the halfway point, she was practically crawling on all fours, lurching as she passed the section where the gravity shifted. She sank her claws into the navy blue carpet for fear of falling, freezing up.

"Come on, Zuki. You can do it!" Jules said in an attempt to encourage her. Her ears slowly rose to point at him, Jules waving her forwards. "Come to me, there's nothing to be afraid of. You climbed all the way up that tree back on Borealis, right? If you can do that, you can do this."

She nodded, rising to her feet unsteadily, keeping her arms and tail outstretched like she was walking a tightrope as she cleared the last few feet. He took her by the hand as she cleared the incline, the alien turning to look behind her nervously.

"Nice job," he said, patting her arm reassuringly. "The hard part is over, the rest of the hub is level ground."

"Of all the things I've seen here, that was...the strangest," she breathed with palpable relief.

"Let's keep up the pace," Jules said as he guided her down the hallway, "we have a meeting to get to."

The hallway was long, but not completely featureless. Every so often, there was a window spaced out along the walls, a view of the station's torus and the starfield beyond visible through the thick glass. The way that the stars crawled past created the illusion that the station was standing still, and the universe was turning around it, the system's star casting the outer hull in harsh light and deep shadow. With no atmospheric haze or points of reference, it was hard to gauge the actual size of the station, the donut-shaped habitat curving up and out of view. Zuki paused by one of the windows, admiring the vista, tracing the shapes of the frost crystals that clung to the outside of the glass with her claw.

"The people back home...they wouldn't believe me if I told them," she sighed, watching the dusty planet that the station orbited rise from below the horizon. "How would I explain any of this to them? Some of them still believe that the stars are holes in a giant blanket, punctured by magic arrows, but I've visited them."

"Don't sweat it," Jules said, sidling up beside her and admiring the craggy surface of the world as it ballooned to fill their field of view. "That's what video recordings are for, right? In fact..." He rummaged in his pocket for the tablet computer, navigating the touch menu as Zuki turned her head to watch him curiously. He activated the front-facing camera, a video of them appearing on the screen. Zuki's ears flicked as she watched herself on the feed.

"Hello, people of Araxie. I'm standing here with your first ambassador, Zuki. We're currently on our way to a very important council meeting between several different alien species, and we thought we'd stop to catch the planetrise. Behind us, you can see the hull of Fort Hamilton, the orbital station where she's been living for the last few days. Say hi to the folks back home, Zuki."

She waved her hand sheepishly, and he angled the tablet so that the camera could get a good view of her suit. After a moment, he shut the recording off, stowing the device in his pocket.

"There you go. If anyone doesn't believe you, show them that video."

"I...can take the tablet home with me when I go back?" she asked.

"Sure, I can pick up another one for like eighty creds. Now come on, it's polite to arrive a little early."

After walking for another couple of minutes, they arrived at the far end of the walkway. There was another pressure door, identical to the first save for the fact that it wasn't guarded. It opened on its own, operated remotely. There must be a camera mounted somewhere nearby. They stepped through into the hub itself. It was more cramped and less lavishly decorated than the torus, somewhere between an office space and the interior of a spaceship. There were numbered doors along the branching pathways, reminding Jules of a row of cubicles. The ceiling was just high enough that Zuki could stand, and the corridors just wide enough that an average-sized Krell might be able to slip by. The walls were whitewashed, and the carpet was the same Navy blue as the one in the spoke. The only real decoration here were a few potted plants spaced out at intervals to add a little greenery to their otherwise spartan and functional surroundings.

"I was expecting something more...impressive," Zuki mumbled.

"The torus is designed to simulate a planet," Jules explained, "but the hub is just where the station personnel work. Some of the rooms are more lavishly furnished on the inside, though, you'll see." He brought up his tablet and tapped at the screen for a moment. "Our appointment is in room thirty-six. Down this hallway to the left."

As they made their way down the corridor, the only other people that they encountered were engineers in their yellow overalls, or clerks scurrying between the different departments with tablet computers or boxes of data storage drives clutched in their arms.

"All of the comms equipment and station computer systems are housed here," Jules explained, "those big radar dishes on the outside of the hull are hooked up to the mainframe in the hub. There's all kinds of other shit here, too. I'm not a Navy guy, so I couldn't tell you what kind of gear they need to coordinate all the spaceships that come through here, but this place is basically the headquarters of the Coalition. All of the intelligence gathered around the Galaxy ends up here."

"And your leaders live here?" Zuki asked. She was glancing around nervously, she looked lost. It was hard to get your bearings in the hub, everything looked the same, you had to keep track of the door numbers if you didn't want to get turned around in the maze.

"VIPs stay here, yeah. High-security personnel and the like. There's always at least one Admiral on the station, and they're usually here. I've never seen the Admiral's quarters, but I'm sure they're the size of a damned condo. The hub is a lot bigger than it looks, and there are multiple levels to it."

A Marine in black armor rounded a corner and made his way towards them, stopping Jules and asking to see his ID card. Jules passed it to him, and the guard ran it over his wrist computer, then waved them on. Security was tighter than usual, it must be on account of the council meeting.