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Of course, she knew she might be taking an even bigger risk—the risk that she would have a son instead of a daughter—but she’d done what she could to mitigate that. She’d bought a special medication from an underground pharmacy which was supposed to ensure only a female baby could be conceived.
Ketha had heard about the medication from a friend of a friend at a party. She’d been whispering about someone who actuallyfuckedher bodyslave instead of “giving him the rod”, which was the Yonnie euphemism for strapping on a phallus and taking a bodyslave in his rear.
At the time, Ketha had been shocked by such an idea. Everyone knew a true Yonnite Mistress never allowed a male to penetrate her in any way! But her encounter with Styx had changed her mind. Or maybe it was the fertility drugs that were tormenting her so relentlessly.
But for whatever reason, she was determined to do this—she had promised her mother she would get pregnant, but she wasn’t going to do it at a Conception Center. And she supposed she would just raise the baby on her own—it would be difficult but she could manage.
Taking a deep breath and a firm grip on the can of Emotion Spray, Ketha left her ship in search of a sexual adventure she was sure she would never forget.
She had no idea of how much trouble she was about to get into.
9
KETHA
The inside of the Ceinex Five Spaceport was grubby and grimy—it looked ancient, with cracks in the rounded walls and broken tiles on the floor. Ketha wasn’t sure how old it actually was and she didn’t care that it was dirty as long as she felt safe.
All around her she saw alien males, drinking at the various cantinas and arguing and bargaining at the vendor stalls which lined the walls of the cylindrical station. She wondered which one of the vendors might be Fry’nox. The name sounded vaguely Blurbian so she kept her eyes peeled for any males who might fit that description.
Blurbians had blobby blue bodies and broad paw-like hands with eight stubby fingers apiece. Their facial features were puffy and they wore loose-fitting clothing so as not to chafe their sensitive skin. The overall effect was that of a being made of some sweet confection that had been out in the sun too long and was slowly melting. In fact, the only part of a Blurbian that wasn’t loose and blobby was their hair.
That was because their hair was sentient and—some said—more intelligent than the Blurbians themselves. It was composed of a series of ten to fifteen thick braids that stood straight up on the Blurbian’s head. These braids were called “bullybraids” or “bullies” for short and they all had tiny black oil-drop eyes and little pink mouths. They were able to shout and sing and discuss things among themselves to reach a consensus. In fact, it was often the bullies who made decisions for the Blurbian they happened to be living on, not the other way around.
Knowing all this, Ketha kept a careful eye out for anyone matching that description. And sure enough, after wandering among the food stalls and vendors and cantinas for about half an hour, she saw a thick-bodied Blurbian sitting behind a chipped plasti-wood counter, staring vacantly into space.
Looking around to be sure no one else was near, she stepped up to the counter and cleared her throat.
The Blurbian ignored her. He was contemplating the eight pudgy fingers on his right hand as though they fascinated him and he didn’t say a word even though Ketha was right in front of him.
“Excuse me,” she said in a low voice. She didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself—there weren’t many other women here and most of them were whores—at least if the way they were dressed was any indication. It was better to hide her sex behind the anonymity of her long gray cloak.
Still the Blurbian didn’t answer—but his bullies did. He only had about eight of them but they were lively enough to bend and sway as they examined Ketha with their tiny, sparkling black eyes.
“Here now, here now!” the tallest one, which seemed to be the leader squeaked loudly. “See what we’ve got! A customer—hey!”
“You come to buy somesollawool, did you?” another bullybraid demanded, swaying eagerly on top of the Blurbian’s head. “Or perhaps some nice dehydratedganjamilk? We have that on special this solar week!”
“I’m actually hoping that you can tell me if this, er,personyou’re living on is the vendor called Fry’nox,” Ketha said politely.
“Oh yes—Fry’nox! He’s our man—Fry’nox!” all the bullies agreed at once in their shrill little voices. “Fry’nox is the one! He lets us do whatever we please! Couldn’t ask for a better host.”
“Oh, good!” Ketha was cautiously pleased. “Well then, maybe you can tell me if you’ve seen a smuggler—er, atrader—by the name of ‘Styx’ around here lately? He’s about so tall,” she went on, holding her hand as far above her head as it would reach. “With dark red skin and golden eyes. Oh, and horns—he has two horns growing out of his forehead.” She made motions in the air to indicate the short, curving horns.
But this seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because at the mention of Styx’s name, all of the bullies became extremely agitated.
“Styx! That liar!”
“He’s a cheating bastard!”
“No good asshole!” they all began screeching together in their tiny, high voices.
“String him up by his balls!”
“Saw off his horns!”
“He’s no good! He lied to us!Lied!”
“Okay, all right—I’m sorry!” Ketha exclaimed, trying to calm them down.
