| Chapter 6: MEGACLITE Smoke floated weightlessly around him, yellow and blue, swirling around his head and flowing in a thousand different directions with every exhale. He pulled the crystal cup to his lips and let the cool liquid become droplets floating in the air, falling gently to his tongue. Zero gravity left him hanging in the balance of absence, touching nothing, free from reality and the boundaries of existence. He felt a sensation; her soft, smooth skin brushing against his back. The fingers of desire washed over him with overwhelming caresses of lustful abandon. His ears were filled with the sweet sounds of feminine giggles and whispers of erotic adventures. The very fabric of time was stretching into infinity as his entire being became one with the climatic moment of her immortal existence. She put her arms on his chest and wrapped her tailfin around his legs. His hands stroked her soft, slippery scales while he licked her velvety gills. The pounding music pulsated with the rhythm of their fiery embrace as they - “HEY, MAAAAN!! WHAT’S GOIN’ ON, BRO’?!!” “huh?” he thought hazily. When he opened his eyes a million points of brilliant, colorful light immediately blinded him. So he closed his eyes. “What the…” “CAPTAIN, MY MAN! ITS STRAUT, WHAT UP, BRO’?!” “Strautnaut?” grumbled Captain Sphincter, “What the fu...” “DUUUDE, YOU’VE BEEN GULPIN’ THAT BERDONIAN HONEY BY THE GALLON, BRO’!…” “uuuughh…” groaned the Captain. His brain suddenly came to a screeching, painful halt. “YO MAN, YOU GOTTA’ GET READY, BRO’!!” Strautnaut glided over to the audio panel and turned off the thundering music. “Man, you like that shit loud,” he said, continuing, “Duuude, I’m tryin’ to run a business. The heat is on, bro’. My place is swarming with freaks lookin’ for you.” “uuuughh…” moaned the Captain. His brain was being brutally beaten with a sledgehammer at the moment. “Hey man, you’ve been here for two days. I can’t hide your ship forever. We gotta’ get you on the move, bro’” urged Strautnaut. “Where am I?” the Captain grumbled, putting his hands over his eyes while he contemplated opening his them again. “Cap’n, your at my place, Planet Love, on Megaclite,” he replied, “remember, I got this gig last year? Dude, you look out of it.” Oh yeah, Captain Sphincter thought to himself, his buddy Strautnaut had found his life’s calling as a manager of one of the universe’s best planets of pleasure. He tried to collect his thoughts, but they were running in different directions from the screaming vultures that was currently picking apart his brain. But he still managed to mutter “uuughh?” to his friend. “Dude, serious, bro’, we gotta’ get you on the move out. If the authorities find you here, the Megaclitians will castrate us both for jeopardizing their business.” Strautnaut urged, motioning to one of the many lovely mermaizons in the room to retrieve some hot Saturian java, the most extremely caffeinated brew in the known universe. Megaclite is one of Jupiter’s 61 satellite moons, populated by an immortal race of nympho-mermaizons that, due to a strange genetic anomaly, can only give birth to more female mermaizons (legend has it that eons ago the males of the species went extinct due to fornigraphic exhaustion). Fortunately for the mermalian race, the Megaclitian Queen learned long ago that their reproductive systems can take donations from the males of any species in the galaxy and still produce infant mermaizons. She smartly turned this potential problem into a winning situation by using the mermaizons natural nymphocentric tendencies to their benefit and founded Planet Love, the best little pleasure paradise in the Milky Way galaxy. “How’d I get here?” grumbled the Captain, squinting through a B.U.D. induced haze fortified by a hallucinogenic Hashmonian fog. “Man, your brain cells have been fried crispy, bro’” laughed Strautnaut, “one of my boys brought you here after he found your ship floating aimlessly in the IIX quadrant of Venus. He knew you were a friend of mine, but I don’t think he would’ve messed with you if he knew about the bounty on your head!” “Oh yeah,” grunted the Captain, vaguely remembering some kind of dramatic events that played like a movie in his head. He opened his eyes again, and the light pierced his vision like a thousand shards of glass exploding into his cerebral cortex. He quickly closed them again and decided that visual confirmation was very overrated. “Yo, Cap’n, you know I don’t care what you’re involved in,” said Strautnaut, “I mean, we’ve been in the trenches together fighting for the Institute since the Test Phase Wars. We’re brotha’s, man. But you know I’m running a business now, and I got to take care of the bootylicious oasis that is takin’ care of me. So we got to get you outta’ here…at least for the time being, bro’.” A mermaizon beauty walked into the room and handed a cup of hot Saturian java to Strautnaut. He pulled out an I.V. kit, tapped one of Captain Sphincter’s veins, and poured the java into the drip pouch. “Ouch!” complained the Captain, getting aggravated at the mammoth B.U.D. hangover that was invading his reality. “Give me a shot of B.U.D.” he ordered. “Hair of the dog, ‘eh?” chuckled Strautnaut, giving the heads up to another ravishing mermaizon to bring a couple of shots of Berdonian Unconsciousness Dilapidator. The Captain gulped down the cool, refreshing liquid. The combined effects of the B.U.D. and Saturian java started focussing his thoughts into semi-coherent patterns. He pulled his shades out of his pocket and put them on, opening his eyes. He looked around and saw Strautnaut’s grinning face and sparkling gold uniform. The room was a psychedelic mixture of vibrant colors, constantly changing and metamorphosing into themselves. Beautiful mermaizon women were all around, giggling and playing with each other, floating in the zero-gravity of Megaclite. Each had long, golden hair covering their naked bodies down to their waists, which smoothly transformed from the curves of their feminine hips into the silky scales of their long, sexy tailfins. Captain Sphincter tried to sit up, but the two ton anvil currently slamming his consciousness had other plans for him. “I’ve got to get up,” he groaned, “got to get to Uranus.” “Uranus?!!” said Strautnaut, shocked, “you mean, you think you can get to Uranus?! That is the most heavily fortified militarized planet in existence, man! You’ve been bingeing on too much B.U.D., bro’, because that is crazy talk!” The Captain started to think, but the effort seemed such a waste of precious energy that could better be served fighting the raging hordes of Mongolian horsemen that were placing his brainwaves under a siege. He took three quick shots of B.U.D., a triple inhalation of the Hashmonian fog hooka, and promptly passed out. |
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| Chapter 7: TO BE CONTINUED SOON |
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