“It must have been forgotten in their hurry to depart,” she said. “Does it work?”
He flicked the little wheel. A spark jumped, and a flame formed. “Yes.”
She shrugged. “Could be useful if we need to make a fire.”
“Or another game-type item we might need for some other reason.” He closed the lid, extinguishing the flame, and put the lighter in his mouth, tucking it into a cheek.
They returned to the spaceship and let themselves in. The orgy was in progress. Lance had evidently done Ula, but Nola was working on him, trying to restore him to operative mode by licking his penis. Xylia was holding his head against her breasts.
All four looked up as Pedro and Fotina entered. “Find anything?” Lance asked.
“A length of net,” Fotina said, displaying it. “I saved it just in case there’s a use for it. We don’t see why the game would provide it otherwise.”
“And a map of the area,” Pedro said. “With a warning on the back saying danger—do not trust the natives.”
“Duh,” Lance said. “If any colonists remain, they may want to take our spaceship and strand us here.”
“With luck, Tris and Kemo will bring back a report on them, trustworthy or not,” Xylia said.
“Also an old lighter,” Pedro said, taking it out and demonstrating its flame.
“Nobody smokes anymore,” Lance said dismissively.
Pedro shrugged and returned the lighter to his mouth.
The surrounding illumination blinked. “That’s an indication of night,” Pedro said. “Our real-time session is four hours, so probably an hour equals a day in game time.”
“Then they’ll be back soon,” Xylia said, stroking Lance’s head. They had just spent the night together, in game reckoning.
But the two men were not back. The group had to acknowledge the obvious: they had gotten trapped or killed. If the former, they might be rescued; if the latter, they were out of the game.
“Who is next?” Xylia asked.
“Three of us throw fingers,” Lance said. The gamble going out seemed equivalent to the gamble of staying in, because of the chance to win actively rather than by waiting it out.
Lance, Xylia, and Nola threw fingers. This time the two women paired.
“Well, if they were led astray by lovely nymphs,” Xylia said, “we won’t be.”
“But if they were caught and eaten, we may be even more delectable,” Nola said. She glanced at Lance. “I never did get the chance to do you. How about a similar sendoff to what Xylia gave Tris?”
“So quickly a tradition forms,” Xylia murmured.
“Why not?” Lance approached Nola. She jumped similarly onto him, and soon they were having exuberant sex.
Again, Pedro felt the impact. He squeezed Fotina’s hand. She squeezed back, agreeing.
The two women departed. “If they don’t return,” Lance said morosely, “we remaining four are the likely winners by default.”
“Not the way I prefer it,” Ula said. She eyed Pedro. “You’re sure you wouldn’t like group sex?”
She was definitely trying to get a piece of him. “Not since I met Fotina,” he said.
She sighed. “So what do we do for an hour-long day?”
“Grandfather!” Fotina said.
“What?”
Fotina rummaged in the ship’s supplies and found a deck of playing cards. Soon they were taking turns playing games.
The light blinked. Another night was passing, and the women had not returned. Pedro felt a twinge of nervousness; this did not bode well.
Indeed, the women did not come back. Those remaining were perhaps winners by default. None of them were satisfied with that. “Do we go out as a foursome, or another twosome?” Lance asked.
“It’s looking increasingly dangerous to go out,” Ula said. “I proffer a deal: I’ll go next, with Lance, if Pedro gives me a sendoff.”
Pedro looked at Fotina. She made a quick, almost visible calculation, and decided. “Do it,” she told Pedro.
He realized that it wasn’t the risk of going or staying she was concerned with, but the prospect of separating the women so that she would no longer have to have competition. She would give Ula what she wanted in order to be rid of her.
Pedro stood. Ula jumped into his arms even before he got an erection. His member rose swiftly, as she pressed against him and kissed him; he could not help it. In moments it was lodged in the groove of her buttocks, unable to enter because of the angle. Pedro almost smiled; he and Fotina had encountered that problem IRL.
Ula quickly rectified that. She heaved her bottom away from him so that his member moved forward. Unfortunately, it went too far, and was now in front of her.
At this point Fotina interceded. She stepped close, took his member in her hand, and directed it to the aperture, where it slowly pushed in. In this manner, Fotina made the act her own.
The feel of Fotina’s hand on his embedded member set him off immediately. He thrust and jetted upward into Ula, finding her trigger so that she could join him. Fotina was still touching his scrotum and the base of his penis below it as the mutual orgasm took them. That added to it.
“Now you know about hands-on sex,” Ula said as the climax finished, satisfied.
So they did. It was a worthwhile variant.
Then Lance and Ula departed. At the portal, Ula had a thought. “If we don’t come back within a couple of hours, game time, come look for us. It could be something that doesn’t happen instantly.”
“Good point,” Pedro agreed.
Then they were gone, and Pedro was alone with Fotina. “Now we’re free to have private sex,” she said. “But Ula made sure we’d have to wait.”
“She’s a conniving creature.”
“You sort of like her anyway.”
“I do,” he admitted. “That in no way diminishes my commitment to you.”
“You wanted sex with her without alienating me.”
“Yes, embarrassing as it is to admit it.”
“And I wanted to see you having sex with another woman, without being afraid of losing you.”
He stared at her. “You actually wanted this?”
“Seeing two others have sex turned me on. I wondered if it would turn me on to see you doing it. It did.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“Come here.” She spread the netting on the floor and lay down. “Get into position.”
“It’s too soon. I can’t get it up yet.”
“Precisely.”
Perplexed, he joined her and got into position on her without penetration. She took his member and put it in for him, so that he was in her without erection. In a prior round that would not have worked, but this was not competition but facilitation. Then she held him close and kissed him repeatedly.
His member started to swell. Slowly it penetrated as it expanded, growing into her. Finally it achieved full hardness and depth, pushing against her trigger, and the orgasm was upon them.
“You wanted this kind of sex too!” he exclaimed.
“To feel you coming into me as I arouse you,” she agreed. “But the only way to do it was to have you do someone else first, so you’d be slack.”
“I thought you just wanted to get rid of Ula, your way.”
“That too. I wanted you to have it with someone who wanted you, so the sex would be real. I managed to phrase it as a favor to her, so maybe she’ll owe me.”
“And to think you started as a sexual innocent!” He was amazed anew, and not at all displeased.
“I’m a quick study.”
He rolled over with her, so that she lay on top of him, still connected. “I want what novelties you’ll come up with after we’re married.”
“Hundreds, I hope.”
When they were done, he brought out the map and contemplated it, looking for anything he had missed before. He found it. “There are faint lines on it. Boundaries, I think, marking off four territories.”
“But
no houses or roads or other indications of high level culture?”
“None.” He studied the sections. “One seems to have mostly fields in it. Another mostly water. A third has trees. The fourth seems like hills and brush, a sort of badlands, maybe. Such features are obvious landmarks; why should they need to be mapped or delineated?”
“There must be a reason,” she said.
Time passed, and Lance and Ula did not return. “Let’s get on out there,” Pedro said grimly.
“Fully alert and ready for anything,” she agreed.
“Considering the ugly mystery of their non-return, I think we should first seek to locate or fashion defensive weapons.”
“What if fighting is not the way to win?” she asked. “Our mission is to obtain food for our journey. Couldn’t we best get that by trading peacefully with the natives?”
“What do we have to trade?”
She paused, considering. “Excellent point. The game must have a way for us to prevail, if we can figure it out.”
“Suppose the others tried to reason with the natives, and got killed? Remember the warning on the map said not to trust them.”
“Suppose they tried to fight them, and got killed?”
He considered. “Maybe we need weapons that don’t show, that we won’t use unless there’s no alternative.”
She nodded. “That will do.”
They kissed again, and went out. “The closest section is the hilly brush,” Pedro said. “This also seems like the best place to find weapons. Solid sticks, sharp stones, vines.”
“Vines?”
“Long supple ones can be used like ropes, to lasso or tie up animals or people, at least temporarily.”
“Point made. We’ll explore the badlands first.”
They walked across the pavement and onto the turf of Horror. Pedro wondered again about that name. What had so horrified the settlers that they fled and would not say what from? What about those remaining behind? Weren’t they horrified too? It did not seem to add up perfectly.
The brush was thick and prickly, a challenge for their bare feet. Fortunately, there were paths through it, likely made by animals. “If we follow the paths, we’ll be heading where the creatures that made them are,” Pedro said. “We may not like those creatures.”
“This is a game setting,” Fotina said. “Two couples have to make it through. That means there can’t be deadly traps for all; they’d have no players left. I think it must be more subtle than ravening monsters. We should be able to travel safely. The warning did not say to fear the land, but to distrust the natives.”
“Good thinking,” he agreed.
They searched for potential weapons, but before they found anything useful, two figures came bounding toward them along the paths. A man and a woman.
“Not exactly,” Fotina said as they got a better look.
Not exactly was correct. Both people were naked and humanoid, with alert faces, long hair, and highly sexualized torsos. But their skin was tanned to the point of looking leathery, their feet were so lean and bony they halfway resembled hooves, and their hands were heavily callused. They were probably genetically adapted for life on this planet, without the use of clothing, tools, or weapons.
In fact, they resembled nothing so much as a satyr and a nymph. Both, mythologically, highly sexual creatures. The female’s large breasts bounced enticingly as she ran, and the male’s impressive member seemed to be perpetually erect, as if it had a bone in it.
Pedro and Fotina waited as the two closed the distance. They came to stand a few feet away, looking expectantly at the players. Contact seemed to be up to the planetary visitors.
“Hello,” Pedro said.
“Ha-loo,” the nymph responded, smiling and inhaling. Her prominent bosom seemed eager for action. “I Berry. Hee Brush. Fock mee pleese.” She spread her legs and gestured to her crotch.
How direct could she get? These did not seem to be recycled players, but complete new animations. Was there a reason? “I am Pedro. My companion is Fotina. Why should we do that?”
“Wee must breed out.” Her accent was fading as she oriented on what might be a largely forgotten tongue. “Yoo from Earth. Original stock. Wee need.”
That made sense. They did not want to become dangerously inbred. But she had not quite answered his question. “Why should I breed with you? How will that profit me?”
She smiled cannily. “Wee will trade information for breeding. One breed, one answer. Fair exchange.”
So that was the setup in this round: answers in exchange for procreation. This way it guaranteed plenty of sex for the audience. But what about the warning on the map, not to trust the natives? Would the answers be accurate or relevant?
Did they have a choice? They would simply have to make the deal, with the caution that the answers could not be fully trusted.
Pedro looked at Fotina. She nodded, evidently having come to the same conclusion.
“Here is my first question,” Pedro said. “We have six companions who came this way before us. Where are they now?”
Berry turned around, bent forward, put her hands on her knees, and waited. Her posterior was quite plump and inviting, her vulva open. “Breed mee,” she said.
Pedro stepped up to her, set his groin against her bottom, and reached around to catch her breasts. They pressed firmly into his hands as she breathed, turning him on. His member rose and pressed against her taut belly. He drew back just enough to let it slide upward along her moist groove until it found the lodging. There was never any problem of lubrication in game sex. Then he pressed it in.
When Berry felt his entry, she pushed back eagerly, taking him all the way inside. Her vagina was slick and firm, readily accommodating penetration while squeezing conducively. He reached full depth, and that triggered the orgasm. Both of them were caught up in it for thirty seconds as he repeatedly slammed against her buttocks and pumped out pulses that felt utterly real.
When it ebbed, she drew off him and turned to face him. “Is that all?”
“All I have to give,” Pedro replied, bemused.
She looked disappointed. “They are with the big trees,” she said. Then she turned again and ran away. It seemed that one seminal donation, of whatever size, was all she needed. Maybe she had the ability to hold it within her until she became fertile and could use it.
Pedro tapped his chest where the folded map was. It was a signal to Fotina. They knew where the big trees were, so didn’t need to ask. But they did need more information.
Fotina turned about and put her hands on her knees, presenting herself for Brush. “What are they doing there?” she asked.
The satyr unlimbered his formidable member and had at her without ceremony. He thrust into her so vigorously that she almost fell over, with an exclamation, and had to take a step forward to brace herself. It didn’t matter; he was right with her, shoving in several inches, drawing back, driving in farther. She looked uncomfortable, and Pedro would have interceded, but she dissuaded him with a look. She intended to accomplish this. After the first moments she seemed to relax somewhat, becoming adapted to the situation.
The satyr’s penis looked to be eight or nine inches long, quite broad at the base, and he seemed determined to get all of it inside her. He just about succeeded. He drew back and tried once more, putting his whole body weight behind the thrust, and this time the last of it jammed into her sorely stretched aperture. It would have been painful for her, anywhere but in the game, where avatars had ample sexual sensation but no actual physical discomfort.
“Tight,” the satyr muttered appreciatively.
The climax came, and Pedro almost thought he saw the base of the huge member swell yet more with the bolus of ejaculate forging through it, and Fotina’s bottom and belly distend with its urgent volume. That had to be his imagination, as a vagina was not an aperture to the digestive region. It was as if a fire hose was in there, jetting gallons of thick fluid in repeated surges. And, in fact, some
ichor leaked out around the base and dripped clingingly to the ground. Ejaculate was real, in this setting! That was why Berry had wanted more; Pedro’s offering had been tiny compared to the satyr’s evident effort.
Yet there had been no sign of ejaculate in the space ship, or when Pedro and Fotina did it in the building. It must be that the rules changed when away from the base. The natives had voluminous emissions. Did that affect the travelers’ mission? It might, but he wasn’t sure exactly how.
At last the monstrous orgasm was done, and Brush pulled slowly out, his member coming into view an inch at a time. It had truly been all inside her. It looked somewhat diminished, but not flaccid. Drool dripped from it, the remnant of his phenomenal effort. Fotina straightened up, more drool sliding out of her cleft and down her inside thighs. She grabbed some leaves from a nearby bush and used them to mop up some of it.
“Breeding,” the satyr said. Then he too turned and ran away. It seemed that was all the answer he would give.
“Are you all right?” Pedro asked her.
“I feel as if a mechanic squeezed a whole grease gun’s worth of grease into me,” Fotina said, trying ineffectively to mop up more of the ooze. “It’s quite a contrast from prior rounds, or for that matter, our honeymoon week.”
“Berry seemed disappointed in the amount. I didn’t understand, until I saw Brush in action. What a load!”
“What a load,” she agreed. “Pedro, I don’t want to drool forever, but I’m feeling depleted. Can you help me get more of it out?”
“I’ll try.” He looked around, and spied a smooth thick rounded stick of wood, about two inches in diameter and a foot long. He picked it up, brushed it off, and showed it to her. “Displacement?”
“Try it,” she agreed. She assumed the same position she had for the sex. She no longer seemed concerned about whether such a thing would fit. In fact, if anything she looked somewhat sleepy.
He stooped, looked close, and saw that her vagina had closed with translucent substance still welling out from the vent. He inserted the end of the stick carefully. The width was larger than her aperture, but that was the point: to squeeze out whatever else was in there. He pressed, and it slid in, distending the flesh, making the slit become a hugely filled hole. He felt his penis stirring; this was like another form of sex. That made him feel slightly guilty. “Okay?” he asked her.