16. Xandor

Chapter 16

Xandor

Paradise

A warm, inviting red glow emits from within the pleasure house. Soft chant-like music traces the air, tickling my pointed ears. Stepping inside, a vision of luxurious décor welcomes me. Black furniture engraved in detailed shimmering gold, upholstered in rich red leathers, laid across plush red carpets which are still springy soft. As I take in the surroundings, a female Argorian approaches wearing an ethereal white flowing dress that aims to tease and tantalize the senses. For the briefest moment, a flicker of shock crosses her face as her eyes travel over my impressive, towering figure.

But she recovers well, as she now holds a welcoming smile. “Welcome to Fluxom Paradise,” she utters, her voice soft and delicate, as she peers up at us before performing a deep bow. “Please forgive my momentary lapse. I’ve never encountered... such striking males before,” she confesses with a whisper, although her milky white Argorian eyes give no hint of her emotions.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I reply, my tone smooth. Her reaction, however brief, pleased me more than if she had remained indifferent. “I’ve heard great things about this place,” I smirk at her, a hint of mischief in my voice. “Show me the truth of it,” I challenge.

To her credit, she remains composed. “Of course, please follow me.” She turns, beckoning for us to follow down an immaculate hallway with a clean scent of incense which wrinkles my nose. We enter a large darkened room illuminated with dim red light, strewn throughout the room are private booths, some containing occupants of various species. Most are Argorians, Glaseroids and a group of Gorglaxians who regard us with awe and astonishment.

Stepping onto the floor gives me pause as it churns with a dazzling mass of colors and hues swirling and mingling like a cosmic spectacle. I can’t discern if it’s a flat projection or an actual cavernous space filled with mysterious, bellowing clouds and liquids. The effect reflects striking, bold projections illuminating the space further.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Noroth complains as he takes tentative steps on the writhing ground, as though it might turn to molten plasma at any moment.

“But I thought you liked garnish colors?” I jest, trying to suppress my own disorienting feelings that threaten to overwhelm my senses.

“Yes, to look upon, not transverse,” he counters, steadying himself with a meaty hand on my shoulder, prompting me to laugh.

“It’s quite safe, I assure you.” Our Argorian guide turns, indicating an empty booth nestled in the corner of the expansive room, curved from glossy black polymer, boasts high-backed inlaid with supple red leather and adorned with plush golden cushions. “The Fluxom Paradise is a sanctuary to nurture and succor your every need.”

“Noroth might need to succor in a bucket, at this rate,” I mock, casting a playful glance at our guide, who maintains her smooth smile, and, to my annoyance, her unreadable white eyes remain a mystery. Argorians are no fun.

“Restrooms are situated over there.” Our Argorian guide indicates to an adjacent room her formal response to my obvious jest wrinkles my brow with frustration. As our trio squeeze into the undersized booth, the boring one then asks. “What refreshments would you like?”

“Give us the strongest ales you have,” I request, shuffling my legs, in search of a comfortable position, knowing from experience that other species’ idea of strong is little more than piss water.

“Very good.” The boring one turns, heading towards the entrance.

I sigh, watching the diminutive Argorian glide out with grace. “I hope they’re not all going to be this dull.” My feet knock against the legs of the table as I shift with discomfort. “Void these tiny booths!”

“What’s gotten into you? Relax,” Noroth chides, a disapproving look etched on his flat face.

Why am I so wound up? “I prefer my pleasure houses bawdier. This one would better suit the stuffy Council of Elders. They’ll probably send us droids in dresses next,” I complain, unsure where my bitterness is coming from.

“We’ve just arrived,” Noroth reminds me with a scowl.

“Welcome to Fluxom Paradise! Where your desires are made reality,” an excited but artificial voice states, prompting me to scan for the source, until a holographic display in vibrant blue materializes above our table, adding to the kaleidoscope of colors of the room.

“Each floor specializes in fulfilling specific desires. Please make your selection! And don’t hesitate to contact our staff should your needs fall outside those offered,” the artificial voice continues, as the projection changes to show an extensive list of options.

Furrows etch my brow as I peruse the holographic list before me. A myriad of options shimmering in the air: holographic simulations, zero-gravity chambers, sleeping pods, and horticultural zones. “What is this crap?” I exclaim.

“There you go, Xandor, robotic companionship!” Noroth erupts into laughter, jabbing a finger at the holographic list. “I could request one dressed in a gown just for you!”

“Sadly, I left my oil can on the ship,” I retort with a grin as I continue to scan the list, wondering who in their right mind would choose many of these services. “Bio experiences or rejuvenating spas might be interesting,” I muse, scrunching my face.

“Aha! intergalactic eatery!” Noroth declares in triumph. “After enduring that disgusting slop aboard the ship, an actual meal would be a blessing from the Gods. They might even serve borack meat!” His broad face lights up with excitement.

My stomach rumbles in agreement. “We left Klendathor, traveled halfway across the galaxy to a pleasure house, only to eat the same food we have back home?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah, so what?” Noroth replies, his logic unassailable.

I exhale, defeated. “Void it. I could murder a borack steak.” My hand darts to the projection selecting the ‘intergalactic eatery’ option from the glowing list.

“Thank you for choosing... intergalactic eatery,” the excited artificial voice declares. “Now please select from available companions.” It reveals a new list of names. Its artificial voice now, like sweet nectar to my ears.

“Now we are talking!” I exclaim, a surge of anticipation coursing through me.

“Sneaky vipertails, hiding them behind the activities,” Noroth comments, his eyes already scanning the list with greed. As we cycle through the catalogue, each companion presents themselves in a lifelike projection, offering a brief introduction.

A groan escapes me as the holographic display cycles to a humanoid droid named ‘RBX97T,’ emitting a series of unintelligible, annoying beeps as its introduction. Frustrated, I adjust the filters, eliminating droids and males from the list.

The next projection reveals a Glaseroid striking a demure pose dressed in a pink outfit that reveals much... exoskeleton, sending a shiver down my spine. Just as I’m about to dismiss her, Noroth interrupts, raising a hand as he studies the model. “Job and Mod would have a fun time with her,” he remarks with a chuckle.

“I’m sure, but aside from the clothes, I’d have a difficult time telling the three of them apart,” I reply, squinting, attempting to discern any sexual dimorphic features.

“Gods, I’ll probably regret this, but add her to the list,” Noroth requests as he grins like a fool who’s lost a bet.

I stare unblinking at him for a moment, unsure if he’s joking. “You’re serious, you want me to add...” I glance down at the name. “Vespa?”

He nods with vigor, rustling his long red hair. “Yes, I’ve never been with a Glaseroid before and her bio says she likes bigger males,” he explains with a smile.

“Okay,” I scrunch my face, selecting ‘Vespa.’ “I highly doubt she had a Klendathian built like a battlebarge, in mind when she wrote that, but I shouldn’t complain. Not after all the grief I get for my preference in females,” I add with a chuckle.

Noroth joins in my laughter. “Exactly, your choice in females offends the very Gods.”

“You’ve just lost the right to criticize my choice in females, friend,” I retort with mirth.

As I continue to cycle through the list, a Jungarian snags my attention with tawny fur and large breasts. But it’s the eyes that draw me, piercing green that sparkle with sadness. I’ve seen eyes like this before, hidden in shadow, watching me in the dark. Tyrxie, where are you now?

“You surprise me, Xandor. Are you tempted? She is pretty,” Noroth observes, rescuing me from my incessant thoughts of Tyrxie. Why does my mind keep drifting to a female that rejected me with such fervor? Is it wounded pride that compels me?

“Uh... No, no, I just got distracted,” I stammer, trying to recollect my wits as I cycle through the list once again, my mind swirling in a maelstrom of confusion. Until, at last, the projection presents a buxom cream-skinned Tuskarian with four huge breasts and a cute little tusk protruding from her bottom lip. “This is more like it!” I exclaim with enthusiasm.

Without hesitation, I add ‘Love Shanks’ to the list, fueled with anticipation, although Noroth just rolls his eyes with a resigned sigh. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all,” I grin, turning my attention towards Logarn, who has sat in complete silence, giving no insight into his preferences or if he even has any desire. “What about you, Logarn? Any females stirring your youthful heart?”

“No, only battle releases me,” Logarn replies. His blank brown eyes stare off into the distance in an unsettling way. His response prompts me to consider if it’s wise to let a female near him, his poor companion would have an easier time rousing a rock.

Noroth chimes in, interrupting my thoughts. “Pick one that you find pretty,” he suggests with a nod directed towards Logarn. “Nature will take its course.”

Logarn remains silent, only shifting his eyes with a languid motion to the holographic display. As I resume cycling through the options, I fear he’ll just select the first female, but he does not, offering a glimmer of hope that a true Klendathian remains locked inside him still. “That one,” he commands.

A female Nebian materializes above our table, her squat yet curvaceous form adorned with dark blue skin and cascading orange hair. I can’t help but chuckle at the sight, like a female version of Felixus. “A Nebian?” Noroth exclaims, a smirk playing on his lips. “Perhaps Logarn is onto something, getting practice in for when we reach Nebia?” He suggests, amusing me.

“Are you sure you want... Felacia added to our selection?” I inquire, my finger poised over the Nebian’s name as I glance at Logarn, who nods in affirmation. “Very well,” I announce, confirming the final selection, causing the holographic display to vanish.

“Thank you for choosing... Vespa, Love Shanks, and Felacia. They shall accompany you shortly,” the excited artificial voice interjects. “Your bill comes to two thousand six hundred and twenty-nine credits.”

“That’s extortion!” Noroth exclaims, his expression turning to disbelief.

I wave a dismissive hand at the eye watering amount. “It’s Krogoth’s treat,” I assert, hoping Krogoth doesn’t check the recipes from this little adventure. Noroth relaxes at my words as I swipe my wrist console over the table, beeping in acknowledgement of payment.

“Logarn, your Nebian, Felacia, will be tiny. So...” My voice trails off as I search the containers on my belt for my dioxaltors. “Ah, found it,” I declare in triumph, retrieving the slender tube of chalk white tablets. “Use this to...help the female relax into it,” I explain, handing Logarn a tablet.

“Ha! Poor female, no doubt Logarn is hung like—” Noroth’s jest dies on his lips.

As we both stare wide eyed as Logarn swallows the dioxaltor tablet without hesitation. “You weren’t supposed to take it. The female was!” I shout, unable to conceal my annoyance and shock. “Gods, we may need to take him to a healer,” I suggest rubbing my temples.

Logarn shows no emotion as his eyes meet mine, unaffected. “Quick, Logarn. How many fingers am I holding up?” Noroth grins, extending three fingers.

“Three,” Logarn answers without pause.

“See, he’ll be fine,” Noroth reassures with a nod, giving Logarn a hearty pat on the shoulder.

I scrutinize Logarn, unable to find any hint of illness or distress. “Fine, but if he collapses or shits all over his armor, you’re dealing with the consequences,” I declare, still eyeing the blond-haired youth.

“If he shits himself, we’re leaving him here,” Noroth counters with a laugh.

“Oh, look at these big, hulking males!” An excited female voice squeals in delight, drawing my attention to witness Love Shanks and Vespa approaching our booth, each carrying a large black, foamy ale.

I beam with anticipation at their approach, eying Love Shanks with boldness as excitement races through my veins. Her curvy body, cream-colored skin adorned with delicate flicks of black, clad in a snug-fitting red dress that highlights her ample cleavages. Though the fabric struggles with brave desperation to contain her four voluptuous breasts, which beckons like the sweetest nectar. I wonder what Tyrxie’s breasts look like... Dammit!

“The true beauty of Omega Flux Station graces us,” I declare, though my awkward and uncomfortable exit from the tiny booth almost ruins my attempt at being suave.

Love Shanks hands me the drink, peering up at me. “Look at the size of you! And so handsome too, with your long green hair and golden eyes. Oh, I know we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

I take a generous swig from the crystal jug of ale. The taste is earthly, but as I wait for the sharp alcoholic kick, only a feeble speck greets me. It’s as I feared. The ale is weak as rain water.

Not taking my eyes off Love Shanks’ alluring long eyelashes, I offer her my beverage, which she gulps from without hesitation, pleasing me. “Excellent. I do enjoy a beautiful Tuskarian who can handle her drink,” I comment, placing my arm around her soft, husky shoulder.

Love Shanks chuckles, snuggling into my protective embrace. “I can handle everything you’ve got, big boy,” she purrs, her words a delightful promise to my ears.

Meanwhile, Vespa and Noroth appear to be getting on well, although she is almost half his height and a fraction of his girth, as she skitters against him, the oddest couple I’ve ever laid eyes on. To my dismay, Logarn remains seated alone, no sign of his female Nebian. “Where is Felacia? My young friend goes without company,” I inquire, nodding towards Logarn.

“Ah, Felacia got distracted by other clients. My apologies,” Love Shanks explains, glancing over at Logarn, who seems unperturbed. “But let’s fulfill your selected desire, at the intergalactic eatery. Felacia can join us there.”

I squeeze the beautiful Tuskarian with playfulness. “I have what I desire right here,” I grin, revealing my fangs.

Love Shanks chuckles as she bucks her wide ample hips into my groin while fluttering her large blue eyes over her shoulder at me, sending a ripple of molten desire through my veins. She smirks at my reaction. The naughty little Tuskarian plays with fire. With a sultry sway of her hips, she beckons me to follow. “Come,” she purrs.

I follow like a hunter stalking his prey. Our group leaves the strange churning room of floor colors, back into the push red carpets off the hallway. Love Shanks leads us deeper into the heart of Fluxom Paradise, her steps confident; her glances back alluring. We pass a group of Gorglaxians engaged in heated conversation, but as we pass, they become silent, their tentacles stop fluttering, followed by hushed whispers.

Further along the corridor, a grand golden door dominates the space. Curved with intricate engravings, it slides open as Love Shanks approaches. She steps inside, beckoning me with a crooked finger, her cute little asymmetrical tusk gleaming in the red light, beckoning like a space buoy.

I join her with a hand over her hip, entwining my fingers through the fabric of her dress, longing for our bodies to become entwined. Once the five of us enter the golden space, the sexy Tuskarian activates her wrist console, and our lift shifts hurdling us upward.

Within the confined space, suggestive sounds and lewd projections flash and disappear throughout the cramped lift, startling me. It’s a heady mix of shocking sounds and images that both stimulate and jar the senses. For a brief second, an image of a nude female Tuskarian being mated flashes with a suggestive moan. “I hope that wasn’t you in that scene?” I ask, with a sly grin at Love Shanks.

She responds without a moment’s hesitation, “No, you’re the only male for me, my golden stud.” Her quick wit and seductive tone are a delightful combination.

“You’re a beautiful liar,” I reply, running my hand through her short flaxen hair.

“Just beautiful,” she counters with confidence. Our easy, playful banter is a welcome reprieve from the dark rejections from Tyrxie. Tyrxie, with the sad green eyes that draw me in, threatening to drown me in their eternal depths. Wonder where she is now...

“Are you coming, big boy?” Love Shanks jars me from my thoughts. I startle at the realization our lift has opened, revealing an expansive room, paved in white marble. The other four have already entered, and I hadn’t even noticed. A troubling lapse on my part. “You, okay?” She asks, a look of concern on her pretty snouted features.

“I’m fine. Actually, I was just thinking about you,” I lie, joining the others as we head towards one of the many booths, which are like large domed enclosures amongst the crystal ornaments and statues, that reflect a massive open fire which casts flickering lights and shadows around the space, creating an impressive ambiance.

“Oh? I hope there weren’t any naughty thoughts swirling around in that big brain of yours?” Love Shanks teases, intertwining her fingers in mine. Why does everyone think I have a big head?

I let her lead me into the paved booth, which inside is projecting a surreal cosmic expanse of space. With cautious steps, I navigate around a circular table that rests before plush leather seating. “I have nothing but naughty thoughts. The only question is whether I should act on them,” I reply, my tone full of mischief.

“Is that so?” Love Shanks says, quirking an eyebrow, her soft form brushing against mine as she settles into her seat.

“Artificial environment can be changed, yes?” Vespa the Glaseroid interjects looking minuscule seated beside Noroth.

“Can we change it to a battlefield?” Noroth suggests, his massive arm draped over the tiny Glaseroid. “The best meal I ever had was after the battle on Malacus Five. Each mouthful was bliss, heightened by the broken bodies and guts everywhere.”

I suppress a laugh as Vespa’s beady eyes twitch and her antenna flutter at his words. “Uh, no battlefield, maybe moon view? Yes?” she suggests.

Noroth shrugs his broad shoulders, prompting Vespa to tap her wrist console. In an instant, our booth shifts to an uncanny, realistic setting on a white moon overlooking a green planet basking in the glow of a white sun. I raise a hand, attempting to touch the star, but my fingers only brush a screen.

“I’m starving, let’s eat!” I demand, eager to taste something other than the slop on the ship.

“Oh? And what do you hulking giants want?” Love Shanks asks, her hands already poised over her wrist console projection, ready to order.

“Borack steaks!” Noroth and I chime in unison, our laughter resonating through the booth, drawing bemused glances from the females, only intensifying our humor. “Borack steaks for us, and more of these ales, a lot more. And anything you and Vespa desire,” I clarify after my laughter recedes.

“Done!” Love Shanks exclaims, “It should be here shortly,” she assures us, her gentle smile illuminating her features.

I pull the voluptuous Love Shanks onto my lap, her ample body weightless against my strength and power. She sequels in delighted surprise as I nuzzle along her long neck, inhaling deep. Her clean scent mixing with a fruity perfume tantalizes my senses, but beneath it all, still further, her feminine musk sends tingles down my spine. “I just had one of those naughty thoughts,” I tease, tracing a gentle claw along her thigh, eliciting a delicate moan from lips that delights me.

“Vespa, you might need to change the environment into a cold shower for these two,” Noroth quips with a chuckle.

Before I can respond, a tiny female with dark blue skin peeks into our booth. Her initial uncertainty melts into astonishment. “Void, they’re massive!” she exclaims, bringing a smile to my face.

“Felacia, mind your words and you’re late,” Love Shanks scolds the Nebian female, as I can feel her bristling in my lap.

“My apologies. I got pulled away,” Felacia offers a deep bow, which appears comical considering she is already so tiny. “Weren’t we supposed to meet in the rejuvenating spas?”

“No, we selected intergalactic eatery,” I answer with a hint of amusement. “But come join us, now,” I gesture to the space beside Logarn.

But Felacia hesitates. “Oh... but I reserved a spot for us. Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” The tiny latecomer persists with a stubbornness that would make Felixus proud.

“Felacia,” Love Shanks begins, her voice carrying a tone of stern rebuke. “The guests have already placed their orders. Now sit!” she jabs a finger down, pointing towards an empty seat.

“Fine,” Felacia raises her hands, placating. “Which one is mine, then?” she asks, casting an assessing glance between us Klendathians. I gesture towards Logarn, while thinking he’s made a terrible choice of companion. “The young one? He does have a cute face,” she adds, gazing at Logarn.

Love Shanks shakes her head, swaying her alluring body in a most pleasing way on my lap. “My apologies. She only started today,” she comments, leaning back against me, her wide velvety ears atop her head brushing my face.

As our group converses, the aroma of the approaching food fills the air. We all indulge in the boracks steaks, savoring the welcome reprieve from the disgusting paste substance which passes for food aboard the ship, yet still all agreeing that the steaks back on Klendathor reign supreme. Our female companions sample some cuts with delight, although they had only ordered modest nibbles. We drink the weak ale with fervor, with Love Shanks having to reorder for us several times, although it has little effect on us.

Most conversation is between the pairings, as Noroth regales his tiny Vespa with war stories. Each tale seems to send her many limbs fluttering ever more. But he continues with impressive obliviousness. Felacia starts off well, speaking as eager and fast as an arrohawk, but even she succumbs to Logarn’s disinterest and terse replies. For my part, Love Shanks and I have been enjoying our heady banter as I run my hands over her exquisite curves, longing to take her somewhere private.

“I think there’s something wrong with your friend,” Felacia interjects, her small squeaking voice tinged with alarm.

I almost don’t hear her, so intoxicated with the distraction Love Shanks offers me, “Huh? Yeah, he’s just quiet,” I wave a dismissive hand in her direction, not averting my gaze.

Felacia insists, her squeaky voice growing in annoyance. “No, he’s shaking like he might throw up or something.” Her words prompt me to tear my attention away from Love Shanks.

Logarn’s red skin is a little on the pale side, and he has a slight tremble. “Are you well, Logarn? Is the dioxaltor voiding with you?” I inquire, shaking him by the shoulder.

Logarn turns his sunken face towards me. “I require the restroom... urgently,” he states, before springing from his seat and walking with a noticeable stiffness, which may be the closest showing of emotion I’ve seen from the youth.

Noroth erupts into laughter, causing Vespa to recoil. “First warrior down!” he booms, thumping his chest with a fist. “May the ancestors guide you!” he calls out after Logarn in jest.

“Oh, what a shame,” Felacia states with more than a hint of sarcasm as she consults her wrist console. “It’s still early. You sure you don’t want to try the rejuvenating spas?” she suggests, her gaze shifting between Noroth and me.

Her attitude irks me as I study her, noticing a preoccupied nervousness which unsettles me. “You keep insisting we go to this rejuvenating spa. Do you receive a commission to promote them?” I challenge, studying her reaction.

Felacia recoils a bit. “A commission? Oh, no,” she answers, her expression thoughtful. “I simply thought you warriors might like a change of scenery.”

Yet she only suggests the rejuvenating spas... But before I can inquire further, Love Shanks strokes my face with a tender hand, her attractive touch diverting my attention away from the Nebian female. “I have a better idea.” She snuggles her head under my chin, her demure eyes glancing upward. “Let’s change the scenery to your private room,” she adds, slipping a hand under my armor, tracing her skillful fingers over my abdominal muscles, searching with delightful greed until stroking my member, eliciting a groan from me as she bites her bottom lip. “You can mate me with your gigantic Klendathian cock... my golden stud,” her whisper a gorgeous promise.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” I grin, seizing her hand, leading us towards the booth’s exit.

“Where in the void are you two going?” Noroth demands, his voice a mixture of both surprise and mischief.

But it’s Love Shanks who answers, “He wants to show me something in his private room,” she replies, her gaze bold as she meets mine.

“We have private rooms?” Noroth queries, scratching his broad face.

“Yes, you each have one,” Vespa answers, her many arms skittering towards me, then Noroth. “Floor seventy-two. Yes?”

“Excellent.” Noroth kicks back even further at her words., almost horizontal now. “Second warrior down!” He declares with a laugh as Love Shanks and I exit the booth. “May the ancestors guide you!”

“Have fun, you three!” I call back to the group, as the voluptuous Tuskarian leads me with a tender hand through the eatery, glancing over her supple shoulder with a seductive smile beckoning me onward like a znat to a flame.

May the ancestors guide me between her inviting thighs.