My double’s voice trembles. “Y… yes, Law-rah. I want this.”
I want this?I would never say that to a female even when it’s true, it’s too demanding. But… if she wants me to, can I find the courage to do it?
“Then don’t resist,” she says, tone silk-wrapped betrillium. “Soften your scales. Let yourself feel.”
My reflection obeys. The tension in my shoulders flows out. My back arches, not in pain, not in fear, but in something else. Giving himself over to her.
“This is for you,” she whispers. “Not punishment. Not control for control’s sake. This is so you’ll know what it’s like to bewanted. To bepleasured.”
The touch finally comes, light, curious. My scales prickle, aching to feel what he’s feeling. What would it be like? No pain. Only her caress. Warm. Real.
An ache builds, not from her, but from inside me. Pressing and urgent, a sudden hunger, as if I’ve been starved of vital nutrients. My body strains for more, and I don’t know what to do with the need. It rises like heat under my skin, clawing upward.
I’ve never felt anything like this. I’ve endured pain, I’ve survived silence, but this… this pleasure that coils so tightly, it becomes agony.
This is new.
And I don’t know how to process it.
Her hands slide possessively to the small scrap of cloth draped from a thin red rope around his hips. “What do you have for me?” she coos, pulling the fabric aside gently.
Instead of my protective carapace, this figure’s reproductive organs hang free, a long thin spear with a bulbous tip and two orbs tight to his flesh. They aren't even scaled, but they are a bright purple, and singular.
My stomach twists with shame. Is this what Law-rah expects of me? I won’t meet her requirement, I have too many and I'mtoo big. I have a cock as well as mycrinis, the latter being twice the size of this shaft if I gathered all the tendrils together.
The vision looms over the singular cock of Law-rah's imagined version of me, and then up at his face. He's still trying to hide his arousal and shame, glancing down at her and then away, struggling to pull himself away from her invading touch. But his cock betrays him, pointing up and getting bigger as his arousal grows.
What would she make of my real cock, let alone mycrinis? I can feel the strain on my carapace as both my real organs swell, the intense pressure echoing the pain I see in my double’s eyes.
Bared and humiliated, stripped until there's nothing left to hide the true me. I'm open, naked, alone.
Not alone. Law-rah’s hands appear again, patting and stroking his cock, tugging it to his bitten-off cries. I want this to be real, I need what she's doing to him, and I can't look away as she teases his organs into weeping.
But instead of pointing out his shame, Law-rah seems delighted. “Come for me,” she purrs.
“N… no!” The Parthiastock on the beam protests.
“Give the female what she wants,” I bark at him. Whatever the order, he needs to do it, but also, I want him to do it.
I want to give Law-rah what she wants.
The whole image tilts, shattering into shards. “What was that?” Law-rah's voice echoes as she speaks what she's thinking, but her final thoughts come jagged and frantic.‘What if someone finds out my kink? What if they think I’m broken?’
The vision splinters, lost, and Nevare's attention wanders.
“No!” I sit up, panting, shaking the foreign shame away. I want to shake Nevare awake and get back to Law-rah's imagination, see what she would do next. What did she want me to do? I need to know, so I can please her!
Her earlier thoughts, before she panicked, lingers like heat against my skin, fragile and forbidden. She fears someone seeing her, ashamed, yet all I feel is a fierce rush of wanting.
And wetness at my crotch.
I open my pants to check on my throbbing carapace, the segments straining to hold my anatomy within the protective casing. White fluid presses from inside, and I slit my eyes and try to calm down. Not again.
“Drok na,” Arture hisses, scuffling away from our sleeping pile. “Get that stuff out of here before it leaks.”
Pulling my coverings up, I roll to my feet. Leaking emissions is deeply shameful. I'm the only one out of my wave brothers who does this, and it causes any surface to get slick and slippery as if it were some kind of oil. It smells pleasant to me, filling the air with a rich scent like an intoxicating jungle on a new, exotic planet, but it offends my wave brothers and shipmates.
I make the trip to the lake knowing I’ll get no more sleep tonight. This planet has short cycles anyway, but I force my body onward. I am determined to adapt to the new pattern of our exile, even if it means incurring greater and greater strain.