All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2017 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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I was sitting in Just Like Back on Earth, a rather classy strip-club on Glorion Five, watching a shifter dance and perform a strip tease. Most spacers have never seen a shape shifter, let alone watch one doing a strip tease, but Glorion Five was right at the edge of what was considered safe Terran space. Out this far, the differences between this federation and that empire– or this species and that species– become a lot less important. She had tits and a curvy ass and a pussy between her legs just like the girls back on Terra, and that was enough for me.

There was a four-unit cover charge, which is unbelievably expensive unless you are a spacer on a four-cycle pass. I, and five of my shipmates, had scanned in the credits at the door and were doing our best to drink through the rest of our pay before we got back to the ship.

The emcee, a lizard-faced man who called himself Raul had called her Marilyn when she first came up on stage. She was dressed in a long, white dress that was all pleated, like an Admiral’s shirt, but rose up to reveal her white panties and thigh-high stockings when she swirled and spun to the music. She took a long time stripping, starting first with the elbow length gloves, then the shoes, then the stockings. Some guys prefer it when women dance in their heels and keep their stockings on even after everything else is bare, but I like the raw, primitive, sexy way a woman dances in her bare feet. There was a smaller pair of panties under the big, white, satin ones, and then a g-string under those. But finally, Marilyn was undulating on stage naked.

When the song ended, something else with a heavy beat began to thump out of the speakers and the emcee returned to the stage. “If you want to see something you will never forget,” he said with a leer, “scan in a hundred units.”

There was a collective gasp from the audience and he held up his hands in front of himself, shrugged his shoulders, and said in a high-pitched voice, “Oh, I didn’t mean that each one of you had to do so… though that would be nice.” He turned to look at a light display at the back of the stage that looked like a thrust readout for a turbo-drive and said, “Each of you scan in what you can, and when we reach full thrust, Marilyn will blast off.”

I don’t know what the other guys did, but I scanned in another three units. There were at least fifty guys in the club and I knew that not everyone would scan in. But if thirty or so of us scanned in three, it would be enough.

I watched the gauge slowly climb until the red and green indicator column reached the top. When it did, the music changed and Marilyn started gyrating to match the new, slower, beat. She also started moaning and calling out, “I need you. I want you. I need your tongue on my twat.”

I took that as an invitation to join her on stage, but the loud hiss from the snake-head bouncer when I stood up put me back in my seat. Marilyn evidently could take care of her own needs.

I picked up my drink, and then dropped it again as my eyes pulled back away from her glistening cunt to see her whole body. She was transmorphing. People think of a shifter changing into other beings or species, but they can do more than that. Their bodies aren’t like ours. They can… rearrange themselves as needed.

Marilyn’s head was dissolving– melting down into her shoulders. Her body continued to dance. There was just nothing from the shoulders up. Then her eyes appeared just above the top of her twat. They looked around at everyone and stopped to wink at each and every one of us. I was not the only one at the table who was staring back at those blue eyes and muttering, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Then her tongue stuck straight down between her legs. At first I thought her pussy lips were just getting longer, but as that column of flesh grew longer and longer I could tell that it was, in fact, a human tongue. It kept growing until it was about a half-meter long, then it started curling and uncurling in time to the music. It was like watching a snake hanging from a branch as it writhed and twisted. After a short while, it curved up and the tip of it touched Marilyn’s clit.

“Yes,” she panted, though I have no idea where her mouth was. Maybe I didn’t want to know. Her pants and moans grew louder and louder as the tongue began sliding and lapping at her swelling pleasure knob. She was no longer moving around on the stage, but was instead slightly bent backwards with her whole body undulating in time to the music while the tongue slid and lapped noisily, also in time to the beat.

After almost five minutes of this, every man in the place was swaying slightly in time with her. She started yipping and yelping and shudder-walked her way over to the pole which she grabbed onto as if to hold herself in place. Then she came. Shifters must be slightly empathic or part mind blasters or whatever, because when she exploded, it was like nothing I had ever felt in my entire life. A wetness between my legs told me I had gone over the top with her. I wasn’t going to ask any of the other guys, but I think they also creamed their pants when she popped.

By the time I got my breath back, Marilyn was taking bows. Her head was back in place as she walked naked between the tables toying with the customers and saying coyly, “Now wasn’t that worth scanning in a few more units?” She would then take their hand and pass their ID chip over the scanner. It took all my self-control not to empty my account as she held my hand. I gave her two more units, but one of the guys who hadn’t had any training against mind-blasters was left broke by the time she passed our table.

After she had made the rounds of all the tables, she returned to the stage and bowed once again. On her final bow, her head again disappeared and her eyes looked out at us from her lower abdomen. The tongue re-appeared and curved up and touched her clit and stayed there. That’s when the lights went out on stage. When they came back up, she was gone.

I sat there staring at the empty stage for a while and then I turned to my shipmates and said, quite loudly, “Well, now I’ve seen everything.”

That’s when an almost creaking voice from behind me said, “Don’t ever say that, sonny. This is a big universe, and you’ve only seen a small part of it. Regardless of how strange it is today, there’s always tomorrow. And let me tell you, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

He coughed slightly and said, “Mind if I join you? I’ll pay for your drinks and buy a round or two more if you’ll listen to my story.”

I was a little suspicious, but the rest of the table yelled out, “Welcome aboard,” so he pulled his chair around and slid in next to me.

He was true to his word and scanned in enough to cover our tab and a new round for everyone. I noticed that when he scanned the payment, however, he didn’t use an implanted ID, but instead waved a leather-looking square over the globe in the center of the table. I wondered if I was the only one who recognized that square as the skin of some unfortunate who no longer needed the units recorded in his– or her– account.

“Yes,” he said with a half-smile, “I’m a space pirate.” His face then turned harsh and he growled out, “But I ain’t never killed a man, or woman, or any type of being that wasn’t trying to kill me.” The wait-bot arrived with our drinks and he scanned a tip into the dome on the top of the bot’s head. For that he used his own chip embedded in his arm.

“The advantage of living outside the law,” he began to explain, “is that you are free to ignore the law… and that includes laws about where you can go in this vast universe. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe if I told you… though after what you just saw on stage, I think you might be open to believe what I saw many years ago on Xeras Seventeen.”

We all looked at him in amazement. Xeras Seventeen was deep in Xerillion territory. We had been at war with the Xerans for over a century. Terrans caught in their territory would be executed on sight.

“It was back before the Xerillion war,” he said in response to our stares. Then he continued, “… back before the shifter wars… hell, back even before the shifters came to this sector.”

God, I thought, this man must be at least a thousand years old. The best Terran serums could keep you alive for two hundred years. He must have access to better formulae from other worlds.

“Back in those days,” he continued, “the planet hadn’t been conquered by the Xera. I don’t exactly know what its true name was back then. The best my translator could do is ‘Herma’.”

He frowned across the table at the helmsman and said, “… just Herma… no letters, no numbers, no secondary notation of any sort… just Herma.”

He took a sip of his drink. “I was part of the crew on an exploratory freighter. We had a contract with Terran authorities, but it was all secret so if anything happened, they could claim that we were just ordinary pirates.” He laughed, “You do that long enough, you end up becoming just ordinary pirates. People forget they sent you out there. Or the people who made solemn promises die off and no one remembers that you are working on contract, so they put a price on your head.” He laughed again. “Well, I didn’t mean to tell you how I became a pirate. I want to tell you about the rape battles on Herma.”

Our eyes were once again wide. “I know that word can cause quite a stir,” he said softly, “but that is what they called them. Or, at least, that’s what my universal translator said they called them. Another thing you’ll find out if you live long enough is that sometimes we just don’t have a word that means what the other person is really saying.

“Actually, when we first got there, the translators were useless. They call them universal, but the language on Herma was so strange, even it couldn’t make any sense of it. We were able to get across the idea that we had come to trade– I think. But it is kind of hard to negotiate prices with pointing and gesturing.

“They had some kind of translator themselves, but it couldn’t handle standard spacer. I even tried a couple of old Terran languages I knew, but all their box did was chirp and squawk while mine sounded like a duck quacking underwater. I knew that wasn’t right. The male I was trying to talk to was getting upset, so he pointed at the female who was wearing their translator and then pointed at me and then pointed outside. I got the idea. He wanted us to go somewhere and make those damn things work.

“I thought it was a female who walked outside with me. I wasn’t really sure. They all looked almost the same. Everyone was almost exactly the same size, their bodies were totally smooth and devoid of any hair, and nobody had tits. They were also all dressed exactly the same, too, wearing what looked like a short skirt or kilt with minor variations in pattern and color. The skirts meant I couldn’t see their reproductive organs– if that’s where they were– never assume when you are that deep in space. Anyway, I couldn’t tell gender, but I thought she was a woman.

“I thought the one with the translator was a woman because she looked somehow… softer. She had a little bit more fat on her and there was a slight curve to her hips and legs. There were also two little bitty lumps where tits would be on a Terran. They weren’t much more than fried eggs, but I assume they would swell when she gave birth.

“Anyway, we went outside back close to my ship where the strange clicks, squeaks, and thumps our translators were making wouldn’t bother the men folk, and we started talking at each other. Sometimes those translators can catch on if they hear enough of each other’s language. After about an hour of useless gibberish, the Herman pointed at the translator strapped around her neck and the one hanging by a strap in the middle of my chest and then made circular motions with her hands pointing up. Evidently she wanted to swap translators.

“Hell, it don’t make no difference who is wearing a universal translator. It could be hangin’ on the wall and still operate the same, but I was willing to try anything at that point, so I handed her my translator and strapped hers on my throat. I had to adjust the strap out a bit because I had a bigger neck, but otherwise there was no problem.

“When I next tried to talk to her, what came out of my mouth was a bunch of chirps and squeals that sounded like insects in a forest at night. Evidently it was the right chirps and squeals, because she smiled and chirped back at me. This time, however, as she spoke, a voice came out of the translator saying ‘My name is Lana. I understand you. Do you understand me?’

“I yelled ‘Great!’ and started to walk back toward where the others were waiting, but she grabbed my arm and said, ‘Wait!’ Then she looked at me with big, sad eyes and said, ‘You must help us. Please.’

“My response was a loud and heartfelt, ‘Shit!’ One thing I learned very early on was to never get involved in the internal politics on a planet. No matter how mean and evil one side was or how good and righteous the other side, it was their problem, not mine.

“She looked at me and asked, ‘Is the reference to fecal matter a way of saying ‘No’ in your language?’

“I laughed and replied, ‘No, it is just a cuss word indicating displeasure with what is happening.’

“‘Does that mean you will not help us?’ she asked, looking slightly scared.

“‘No, not absolutely,’ I answered, ‘but it means I’m probably not going to like it if I do.’

“She smiled slightly and said, ‘Our time of mating is drawing near and Kohwee, our leader– the one you were trying to bribe– will once again cheat to create new mates and to continue his dominance over our society. I want you to prove that he is cheating.’

“‘I wasn’t trying to bribe him,’ I said defensively. ‘I was trying to open trading so we could buy and sell to each other.’

“She laughed. ‘On this planet,’ she said, ‘that begins with a necessary gift. It appears that there is no word in your language for ‘bribe.’’

“I also laughed and said ‘It was close enough. A bribe is a necessary gift that you really don’t want to give, but have to so someone will do what you want.’

‘Then you do have a word for it,’ she replied. ‘But it is not a bad thing. Our society is a very honorable society. If it were a bad thing, it would not be allowed.’

“‘How is he cheating?’ I asked, trying to get to the heart of the matter. ‘And why do you think that I can prove it?’

“‘Do you know what Rape Combat is?’ she asked in return.

“I’d seen things on a planet or two that might be called ‘Rape Combat,’ but I figured it was best to play dumb and say, ‘No.’

“‘For you to understand,’ she said, ‘I must show you my …..’ The translator just made a strange buzzing sound, but I got the idea when she lifted the front of her dress.

“My surprised shout of ‘Holy Shit!!’ was soon followed by a much calmer, ‘There appears to be no word in my language for your reproductive organs.’ I then immediately asked, ‘Are you male or female?’

“Normally when someone shows you their junk, you have a pretty good idea what you’re dealing with, but when she lifted her dress, I was staring at a perfectly smooth cunt that looked exactly like you would find on a Terran woman. And above that cunt was a flaccid, three or four inch penis exactly like you would find on a Terran man.

“She smiled at me and answered, ‘Yes.’ Then she giggled slightly and explained. ‘On Herma, we are born neither male nor female. We are both. How we live out our lives depends upon who wins the Rape Combat when we first come of age.’

“‘Our whole society,’ she continued, ‘mates at the same time… or within a few days when the moons are right and the suns are in the proper positions. At that time the young who have come of age must fight to see whether they will live out their lives as a male or a female. Our leader must also take part in the Rape Combats to show that he is still fit to be our leader.’

“‘Doesn’t that give him the advantage, since he is already a male?’ I asked.

“‘One is never truly a male,’ she replied. ‘You are merely not a female. If someone should impregnate you, you become female… just like me.’

“‘So two males– not females– or whatever, get into the ring, and one of you gets screwed and becomes a female… tits, pussy and all?’

“She giggled. ‘The translator chose the most coarse words for your speech,’ she said, ‘but I understand your question. As soon as the victor’s sperm touches the inside of the loser’s womb, there are immediate changes to the loser’s body. It is very painful… and very obvious. But just sticking your prick into the other’s cunt isn’t enough. You have to pump them full of cum to trigger the changes and win.’

“She held up her hands and cupped the little bumps on her chest. ‘By the time I left the area of combat,’ she said, ‘These were fully formed. And my body had rounded slightly.’ She paused and looked down at the ground. After a short silence she said, ‘And my desire was to have children and care for them. At mating time, my body yearns for a male to again impregnate me. That is a very strong yearning, almost overpowering. Some of the females with no permanent mate will walk through the streets wailing their need until a male finally relieves their pain and distress by fucking them senseless.’

“I laughed. ‘Now you must be the one using the vulgar words.’ I said.

“She gave me a crooked smile and said, ‘I thought you would understand those the best.’

“‘So how is the Big Kahuna cheating?’ I asked.

“‘His title is ‘the Supreme One,’’she answered. ‘And he is somehow drugging his opponents.’

“‘That should be easy to prove,’ I answered. ‘Don’t they run tests or anything?’

“‘We do,’ she replied, ‘but it must be something that our tests cannot detect. I am sure whatever it was had been somehow mixed into the water. That is why I want you to analyze the water the loser drinks between rounds of combat. When I fought the Supreme One, I was almost able to pin him down in the first round. I would have won because he is older and would wear down sooner, but each successive round it was I who felt weaker and weaker until in the fifth round, he pinned me down and splooched me.’

“I chuckled. Evidently there was another word that didn’t quite translate, but I got the idea. ‘So why don’t you tell someone about it?’ I asked.

“‘Kohwee is the Supreme One,’ she said sadly, ‘the Big Kahuna as you called him. No matter how many of his wife-mates say he cheated, no one wants to believe us. Maybe they will believe you if you can prove how he is cheating.’

“‘OK,’ I said. ‘I will test the water. But how do I get a sample?’

“‘On each night of mating time,’ she explained, ‘the Supreme One fights against the strongest of the young.’ She shrugged her shoulders and said, ‘If I had won, I would have become the Big Kahuna instead of a cunt, but there is nothing I can do about that now.’

“We went back to the building where the others were waiting and I presented the Supreme One with some gifts and he asked us to stay as his guests. He didn’t mention that the mating time would begin shortly. Maybe he wanted to surprise us, or maybe he just assumed everyone knew that already.

“When I told my shipmates what was happening, half of them wanted to blast off and get the hell out of there. The other half wanted to be on the streets when the horny women came wailing by. The captain had the final say and he opted for staying– but keeping the engines warm and ready to blast off if things started to get weird.

“After what I had just explained, I wondered what in the hell he would consider weird, but anyway a few days later all the locals started acting a little strange and they set up this big arena in the center of town with what looked like a large boxing or wrestling ring in the very center of it. The Supreme One invited us to come watch, but added that we could not take part in the activities in the arena area. He spit on the ground and added, ‘I don’t care what you do with the skanks prowling the streets, but stay away from the mate-wives in the arena area.’ Several of the crew decided that they would skip the festivities and maybe take a walk around town for a while.

“It was a little disturbing that night. All the locals were naked, and everyone– male and female– was sporting a huge hard on. The males had slightly bigger stiffies, but the angle of the dangle was just as high in the females. The smell of sex was also in the air… and on the ground… and in the bleachers. These people were fucking everywhere. Two of them would be going at it like mad in the bleachers and the folks right next to them would be just sitting there munching on some local snack and watching the ring for the next match.

“The Big Kahuna fought in the first combat and the young one matched against him was giving him a pretty tough run in the first round, just like Lana said she had done. By the end of the round, the Supreme One was puffing pretty hard while the young buck was dancing around trying to get a good hold on him to pull him down. He was literally saved by the bell.

“When the second round began, the young buck was slightly off, while the ol’ Kahuna looked like he had gotten his second wind. I probably should have arranged to test his water, too. It probably had something in it to pep him up. By the fourth round, the young buck was definitely off. You might not have noticed it if you weren’t looking for it, but he was slower and seemed weaker than he should have been. Kohwee, on the other hand, was growing stronger with each round. Near the end of the fifth round, he threw his opponent to the mat and pulled her legs up over her chest. Then he entered her in one violent push and began thrusting furiously. It looked a lot like a man taking another man because there was a prick flopping around between their bodies, but Kohwee was in her cunt, not her asshole.

“It evidently didn’t take him very long to cum, because in just a short time, he suddenly stiffened his body and yelled out loudly. He continued to rock on his defeated opponent while she– I guess she was now a she– while she screamed in obvious pain and despair. When they both stood up, the Supreme One pulled his new wife-mate to the center of the ring and slowly turned her around so that everyone could see her little nubby tits start to emerge. He then strode out of the ring to the cheers of the crowd.

“A few minutes later, Lana joined us in the bleachers. She was carrying a small water bottle. ‘I poured some of her water into this,’ she said softly. ‘They won’t notice it missing when they do the tests.’ She looked around furtively to see if we were being watched and then walked back to join the other wife-mates as they welcomed the latest member of the harem.

“I waited a while, watching a couple more of the matches, before telling my shipmates that I was going to walk around for a while. That comment was met with hoots and laughter because they thought I meant I was going to go sample some local nookie on the streets. Instead I hurried back to the ship and gave the water to our ship’s medic. After running a few tests he came back to the crew lounge and said, ‘Congratulations, you’re pregnant.’

“‘What!?!’ I exclaimed, and he began to explain. ‘It’s obviously an artificial hormone, even on this planet, but it is definitely a female pregnancy hormone. My first tests didn’t detect it, but then I programmed the machine to search for partial molecules of any known substance. There’s just enough of it to trigger a pregnancy response in a the body, but not enough to pop on a standard test.’

“That was it. Kohwee was staying on top by triggering the female change response in his opponent BEFORE he splooched them.”

“‘Would the same thing work for a male hormone?’ I asked. ‘Maybe something like testosterone?’

“‘Probably,’ the medic replied. ‘And if it was one of these artificial partial molecules, it might not be found in the testing.’

“He sat down with me and asked, ‘Now that you know how he is cheating, what are you going to do?’

“‘I need to talk to Lana about that,’ I replied and ambled back to the arena. I wasn’t really in a hurry because I had no idea what I was going to say when I got there.

“I was almost back to my shipmates when Lana headed me off. ‘Did you find anything?’ she asked.

“‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘The water is laced with an incomplete form of a pregnancy hormone. They probably don’t even test for it, and even if they did, it wouldn’t show up unless you were specifically looking for this exact artificial molecule. Even then you might not be able to prove 100% that it was there at all.’

“She looked down at the ground and sighed. ‘Then we can’t really prove anything, can we?’

“I lifted her head and said, ‘What if we don’t have to prove anything?’

“‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘There’s no way to stop him unless we can prove he is cheating!’

“She was starting to get a little agitated. ‘What happens,’ I asked, ‘if you do prove he was cheating? They remove him from office and maybe send him to prison, right? At his age– or because of who he was– the other prisoners will probably gang rape him and he will leave the prison a female. Right?’

“‘Yes,” she answered, ‘that is probably what will happen.’

“‘Then why don’t we cut out the middle man,’ I said. ‘I saw you and the rest of the wife-mates standing all the way around the ring cheering for your dear husband.’

“‘If we don’t,’ she said bitterly, ‘he will have us beaten.’

“‘One of you is standing right behind his corner, right?’

“She nodded her head.

“And one of you is standing right behind the young challenger’s corner, right?’

“She again nodded her head.

“‘What if during the first round while everyone is watching the battle in the ring,’ I began, ‘the wife-mate behind Kohwee started passing his water bucket to the left. And what if the wife-mate behind the challenger did the same thing. Somebody might notice, but water is water. It’s been tested and it’s been declared pure. Who cares if the wifies have a little fun and switch water buckets?’

“She smiled up at me. Her penis also rose slightly. She really liked the idea.

“‘After the challenger wins,’ I said, ‘let him know what you have done as soon as you can. If you can get to him before he gets corrupted by his power, he will take steps to prevent it in the future.’

“‘I will do that,’ she said firmly, ‘but there is something we wifies will do first. It hasn’t been done in at least a hundred years, but it will be done tomorrow.’

“I wanted to ask what she meant, but the wise portion of my mind was whispering– no screaming– ‘You really don’t want to know!’

***

The old space pirate had finished off his Black Jack Ale and most of us at the table were holding empties, so he yelled out, “Time for another round! And I want a real waiter this time. If it’s a waitress I’ll put a twenty-five percent tip on the scan.”

There were two barmaids behind the bar in what back on Terra would have been called thong microkinis. One of them heard the spacer yell and vaulted over the bar to beat the wait-bot to our table. “What would you gentlemen like?” she said sweetly. Looking at our tongues almost hanging out, she quickly added, “… to drink. For anything else you’ll have to go next door.”

“A feast for our eyes is sufficient,” the old pirate said with a deep chuckle. Then he pointed at each of us and we gave the young woman our order. He ordered last and then said, “Put whatever you want to drink on the tab and indicate a twenty-five percent tip.”

“I’ll have what you’re having,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got a weakness for anything named Black Jack.”

She keyed something else into her pad and then held it up for the spacer to scan. He again took the old strip of leather out of his pocket and slid it over the scanner. When she saw it, she laughed slightly. “I thought it was you,” she said sweetly. As she left she began singing loudly, “Fifteen men on a dead man’s wrist, yo ho ho-o and a bottle of Jack.”

A few minutes later she was back with our order. Actually she was back and a wait-bot was right behind her. It was carrying everything except a tall glass of very dark ale. “Black Jack for Black Jack she said as she placed it on the table in front of him. “Half the federation thinks you’re dead,” she said sweetly. “The other half doesn’t believe you ever existed.”

“Which side are you on?” he asked with a smile.

“I have one foot on each side,” she answered.

“You know what that puts on the line, don’t you?” he replied.

She laughed and said, “That’s on the line every night I work here.” She lifted his drink and slid a thick pad under it. “I leave here at one,” she said softly. “My com code is written on the bottom of the mat.” She then winked at Black Jack and returned to behind the bar, softly singing, “Fifteen men on a dead man’s wrist…”

After she left, Black Jack took a deep draw from his drink and said, “Now, where was I? … Oh yeah, I had just told Lana to switch the water buckets. We went back the next night. The whole crew wanted to be there, but the Captain was afraid that a change of leadership might trigger rioting or other problems, so half of the crew had to stay aboard. He also ordered the engines to be brought from keep warm to standby.

“I and my mates were sitting just about where we had been the night before. We were a little higher in the stands and slightly farther down so I could see the water buckets in both corners. Kohwee was fighting last tonight, but the matches leading up the main event were pretty interesting. I noticed that the two fighters were always more or less matched for size and strength. That not only made for better fights, it also controlled the breeding so that the stronger got stronger while the weak got weaker. There must have been a way for a strong male to take the weak wife-mates away from the puny ones because many of the big males had several small wife-mates in their harems. Maybe they just went out and nailed one of the weaker males and claimed them and their wife-mate as their own.

“It was getting kind of late when they finally got to the main event. The Supreme One would put his title on the line by fighting the biggest and best of this group of youngsters. When he got into the ring, his wives began screaming and yelling for him. They seemed much more enthusiastic than they had been the night before.

“When the bell sounded, Kohwee rushed out of his corner and nearly dropped the challenger with a shoulder hit. That shoulder to the gut caught the inexperienced youth totally off guard and knocked the wind out of him. He stepped back gasping for breath, but didn’t go down and was able to protect himself from the Supreme One’s attempt to grapple him to the canvas. After that, the challenger kept a sharp eye on Kohwee’s feet and moved rapidly whenever the big man set himself to charge.

“When the round ended, both fighters were panting heavily. It had been an intense round. I was worried that maybe the Kahuna would win before the juice could start to work on him. I really didn’t have to worry, though. Both fighters spent most of the second round trying to get their strength back. They were feinting and bobbing, but not actually trying to get hold of each other.

“In the third round, the Supreme One made a couple of charges at the youth, but he was just a bit too slow and the youth side stepped each charge. The fourth round was where it started to turn around. The youth was now charging Kohwee and the big guy was having trouble fending him off.

“The fifth round was where it really hit the fan, however. The Supreme One was starting to really feel the effects of the drug and was looking around trying to figure out what was going on. Then the wife-mates started singing. It was a lullaby of some sort. As soon as he heard it, it clicked for Kohwee. He stared down at his wives in disbelief as they smiled up at him and continued to sing what I later learned was a song to welcome a new wife-mate to the harem. He didn’t even really react as the young challenger plowed into him and knocked him to the canvas. In just a few seconds his legs were up on his chest and the challenger’s prick was pounding into his cunt. His cry of pain and wail of despair was louder than any of the other losers’ had been.

“A few minutes later, the new Supreme One stood in the center of the ring. He ordered his wife-mate to stand up, but before she could do so, all of the wife-mates swarmed into the ring. Lana cried out loudly. ‘Stand aside, we claim the right of revenge for illegal rape.’

“I still don’t know what that word was in Herma, but it obviously had a different meaning than on Terra. The winner stepped aside, looking astonished as thirty or more females piled on top of the defeated ex-Kahuna. They no longer looked at all like females except for their nubby breasts. Their penises were hard and erect and just as large as any male that had been in the ring.

They were screaming and yelling and fucking any opening they could find on their cruel ex-husband. His wailing now increased to ear-splitting levels as one after the other of his ex-wife-mates shoved their stiff pricks in his now tender cunt or asshole or mouth. At one point several of them lifted him up so that three of them could penetrate him at the same time.

“Lana was one of the first to fuck him and when she was sated, she walked over to the corner and picked up the ex-Supreme One’s water bucket. She took it to the victor and said loudly, “This was supposed to be your water. It is tainted with an artificial female pregnancy hormone that doesn’t show up on the tests for drugs. If you had been the one to drink this, you would be our wife-mate sister rather than our new husband. I beg you to make sure that this evil can never happen again.’

“The new Supreme One took the bucket and sniffed at it. Then he held it high in the air and said loudly, ‘Let it be written that all water used in these competitions be fully tested and brought to the ring in small sealed containers. The Rape Combat participants will choose one container at the end of each round. No one will know which containers are which, so it will be much harder to do something like this in the future.’

“Some of the crowd gasped, but I noticed that all of the wife-mates were cheering loudly. Lana said something to her new husband and he motioned for me to come into the ring. He spoke softly as he said, ‘I give you Lana for the remainder of the time of mating. Use her well. Make her happy.’ He shrugged and added, ‘Who knows, you may even make her pregnant.’

“I thanked him and was about to decline his offer when I saw the look in her eyes. I held out my hand and she took it. We went together to one of the small tents set up near the arena for those who prefer privacy when mating. I spent six days in that tent. Every so often we would go out for food or to use the bathroom, but for the most part we just fucked. I never did get used to that prick rubbing up and down between us, so I opted for doggy style most of the time, but she really wanted it from the front, so I had to do that, too.

“I never found out for sure whether or not I had gotten her pregnant, or if any of the street wailers who had mated with the crew ended up pregnant. But it was about forty years later that the Xerillion started moving out across that portion of the galaxy. I really hope that it is just one of those weird coincidences that the Herma word for half-breed is Xera.”

***

With that, the legendary space pirate got up and walked out of the club. I’ve told this story many times since then. People will believe what I said about the shifter stripper, and even about the Rape Combats on Herma, but no one ever believes that I actually met Black Jack McCoy.

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END OF STORY
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Note from the author: If you think this scenario is totally impossible look up “Polyclads.” They are just flatworms here on good ol’ Terra, but maybe– just maybe– somewhere out there in the deep reaches of space, they have evolved into humanoid form.

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