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A Renegade Reborn

Pt 4 - Working Man

By H. A. Kirsch

--

_ _

A floor. A crate. Blood. Blood seeping everywhere. I turned around.

_ _

The hare was there. "You've done a bad thing, Earth Wolf."

_ _

I turned back. The blood was forming into the shape of a fox.

_ _

"We're perfect people, us Selnari. We can do whatever we want. And if we make a mistake,"

_ _

A door shut in front of me. I could see the hare through the window. "You'll be reconditioned."

_ _

I looked behind me. Another door, bigger, the size of the entire space. "EMERGENCY AIRLOCK ACTIVATION - STAND BACK AND BRACE". An alarm started to sound.

_ _

I looked through the window again. The coyote stood there. Kale. "You killed my family," he said, face frozen, twisted, bloated. The other coyote. "It doesn't matter what I did to the others. Those kids."

_ _

His hand punched something out of sight, and there was a terrific bang, which threw me backwards-

I hit the floor and the wind was knocked out of me. I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of my 'bedroom' room, half obscured by the strange hammock I hadn't removed. Maybe I'd been sleeping in it to see what happened. I couldn't remember. It swayed slightly. From me? From the HVAC breeze?

[You have fallen. Medical scanners indicate no concussive head trauma. Are you alright?] The voice was the apartment system computer.

"Uhh, uhh, shit, yeah, yeah, I'm okay," I wheezed. "I just fell out of bed." And just happened to land on a pillow I must have kicked onto the floor. Lucky day.Does that thing have cameras that watch to see if I hurt myself? What else does it watch for?

I groaned and got up, then coughed a few times to try and pull in a full breath. I really was okay. Startled, more than anything.

[You have one new message. Would you like me to read it or display it? It will always be available on your wrist-computer.]

"I dunno, read it, I guess," I grunted, then shambled into the bathroom to brush my fangs. Even five hundred years and halfway across the galaxy, you brush your teeth with minty bullshit and a little whirring brush.

[This message is from the Daleon Station Occupational Development Department. "Congratulations, Hawk. You have been selected for a work assignment,"] the computer began to read. ["Your testing has demonstrated an aptitude for mechanical and electronic systems maintenance and troubleshooting. You have been matched with Syrex On-Demand Transportation on this station. Your probationary period begins in one hour and seventeen minutes. Your wrist computer can direct you to the proper transport tram route. A utility work uniform has been delivered to the package compartment inside your door. Good luck and happy working!" Would you like me to repeat the message? I can also read it in TIL.] It then repeated the last sentence unintelligibly.

"Thanks, I don't need it read again," I said, mouth frothy, and spat into the sink, then rinsed with a little wand that I hoped was for this purpose and not washing my asshole. There was already an asshole-washer on the toilet, but you never know. Maybe Selnari really like sparkling clean assholes.

True to the description, I had a bundle of new clothing in the package delivery box by the door. Coveralls again, along with fingerless utility gloves, and a pair of rugged black boots that were probably made of that Tier 1 'leather' I'd seen at the shop the day before. Unlike the gear from the Prak Farm, this actually fit me nicely, although I still looked like a mechanic. I could have told you I'm good at mechanical and electronic stuff. I'm a fucking mechanical engineer. I only ran a sex club because who'd be a mechanical engineer when they could run a fucking sex club?

I got on board the tram, which was sparsely occupied, and munched on another nutrition bar. Strawberry-Chicken again. On purpose. It was an alright breakfast. I started to think random thoughts, because I still wasn't fully awake, despite the nightmare and little tumble-wumble onto the fucking floor. Would Selnari really want clean assholes? They're animal people like me. Do I want a clean asshole? Do I want someone else's clean asshole? That fox didn't have a clean asshole. I don't think I needed lube when I stuck it in him, I just didn't want to get in trouble. I wonder what Marece did at that Mezz-5 place. Maybe he likes to whip people. Maybe he lets coyotes pretend to run him down and bite his neck while they stick it in. Maybe I need to fucking pay attention in case I miss my stop.

Once we left my sector, everything opened up again and I started to get that creeping agoraphobic sense of awe. This time, instead of just traversing the big open cylinder that was our part of Daleon, the tram reached the other side and entered a tunnel. We were going to another cylinder. Several minutes of darkness and flashing lights later, we emerged and immediately pulled to a stop at a station. This one was in a commercial sector that was fucking busy; my wristcomp directed me to get off. I worried I was going to get swept away by people, and I kept bumping into shoulders as I kept one eye on my arm to make sure I was going the right way. Sure, the little earbud thing fed me directions, but there was a racket of conversations, announcements, and even performing buskers at walkway intersections. Just like in my own 'sector', more people stared at me than I felt comfortable with.

I eventually entered a business corridor with what looked like offices and warehouse garage doors, and found one marked "Syrex On-Demand - a Calcyon Mobility Company". Jesus fuck, corporate-speak doesn't die easy. Time for my first day on the job!

Inside the front office, I found a male leopard frumping over a cup of coffee; a female hyena with what looked like motorcycle boots up on the table as she juggled some sort of computer on her lap; and a lizard-like guy sitting off in a small windowed office and looking intensely bored. I had seen several Tark so far, and while I'm not sure I could easily tell them apart, I could tell that this guy was not Tark. "Hey, uh, say hi to the new guy," I gestured to myself after speaking.

"Great, now we'll have news reporters coming in here," the leopard said.

The hyena jabbed at his coffee with a boot toe; while it sloshed, the leopard withdrew his hands expertly fast and with no other display of emotion. "Christyk, be nice."

"I'm not paid to be nice," he groused. "Welcome to Syrex On-Demand, and I'm not gonna say the stupid second part. I'm Christyk. I made the mistake of asking for another mechanic loud enough for Jade over there to hear me, when our previous intern guy left for some family bullshit." He gestured at the lizard guy, then looked to the hyena. "Go on. Say hi, Cara."

"Hi Cara," the hyena said, and seemed to ignore me and the leopard. "Oh we're doing this for real. I'm Cara Song. I'm a hyena, I have a last name unlike Cristyk and you can pronounce it unlike Jade, and I like computers enough to screw them up for a living. Next!"

"I am Jade," the lizard said, through the open door to his office. "I am Tarak. That is... not not Tark. Different lizard alien, as humans say. I am the boss."

"And you're the guy from the news broadcasts! I bet you're sick of hearing that. Too bad." Christyk said, got up, and poured his coffee in the sink before pouring a new one.

"Hawk. Just Hawk. I mean, I had a full name, but since they let me change it on record here, why the fuck not? I'm from Earth, whether or not you fuckin' believe that, and your occupational whatever board here says I oughta come work for you. I don't think they want to give me an apartment for free."

"Great, so I ask for a mechanic, and I get someone who's an empty vessel. A human wolf, from Earth, who has been in cryostasis for hundreds of years. Yeah, he's really gonna be good fixing skip bikes and courier trucks." The leopard crossed his arms and wandered towards the back of the front room, which seemed to be a break room. He opened a staff-only door, swiped a headset off a hook, and vaguely gestured. "Come on. I don't care how smart or stupid you are, they sent you here to work so you're gonna do something." He let the door close behind him.

I leaned down next to Cara as I went to follow. "He's a cute little kitten."

"Ehh, he's just got that big-cat bitch face thing. He's fine. He's also endlessly patient, so you can screw up all you want and he'll just keep being cranky. And welcome, I guess," she shrugged, and finally made eye contact.

She was right about this Christyk guy. He acted like he wanted nothing to do with me, myself, and training me, as well as his own work, food, the universe. However, he actually was extremely helpful. The headset he gave me worked like an augmented reality rig from back home, although much, much better. Within ten minutes, I was doing my first bit of actual training for my apparent job: fixing a courier truck. It was about half the size of a usual small 'truck' I was used to on the east coast of The United States of America; maybe about the size of the quaint twee little ones they had in England or something; and it was apparently autonomous as there was no driver or passenger compartment and the cargo area and roof featured manipulator arms to load and unload itself.

It was electric, and the powertrain was about as uncomplicated as possible. Motors, meet wheels. The robotic loading mechanism, on the other hand, was complicated as fuck. While it was possible to disassemble it, the instructions for doing so - displayed step by step, including tool identification and torque values, hovering in space - were beyond byzantine. Guess which part was broken. After just a few steps, the process required both Christyk and myself to simultaneously manipulate parts to avoid breaking them or getting injured. The headset gave the impression that it could lead anyone through doing the repair, and I suppose that was technically possible. For someone who'd never wrenched a bolt, greased something, or disconnected an electronic connector with a finger's width space next to a sharp and scratchy metal piece - it would have been a nightmare.

I actually thought it was fun. The leopard was surprisingly fun, in that 'he hated every molecule of air around him so much that he worshiped their existence' kinda way. I actually lost track of time until I started getting woozy for food at lunch. It helped that while I didn't know what I was doing, I still knew what I was doing. See, I'd gone to college for mechanical engineering, because I was good at mechanical stuff. Mostly being a mechanic, specifically motorcycles, which I'd gotten into because getting a motorcycle made my mom more angry than getting a car would.

By the end of the day, I was tired, sore, smelled like a wet dog from the parts of me that sweated getting all hot and humid inside my coveralls, and ready to go home. Jade was first to leave, then Christyk. I stuck behind cleaning up my half of the tool mess I'd made crawling around the ass end of a wee little truck all day.

When I left, Cara came up and intercepted me. "Hey, so how'd it go?"

I shrugged. "Alright."

She jabbed me in the shoulder. "C'mon, don't be a shit. You're not like Mister Spots."

"If I told you I ran a sex club in my 'previous life', and yet I'm also happy to fuck around with this shit, would you believe me?"

She perked her eyebrows. "That's some life."

I shrugged again. "I guess those occupational whatever people have their heads on straight, 'cuz this was alright. Beats lying around in an apartment combing my ball fur or somethin'." Cara didn't have the same kind of outfit on as I did. She had a utility vest with a name badge atop a brown leather sport halter top, fingerless and forearm-length gloves that had a few pockets on them, a pair of brown leather shorts that matched her 'shirt', and square-toed black harness boots. She also had a species-correct mohawk, although it partly flopped over, which she seemed to enjoy correcting as a nervous tic. "I like your sense of style."

"Hyenas are born to be punks. You look like you're born to get outta those coveralls."

I perked my eyebrow spots up. "Hey, it's my first day."

She gave me another jab. "Christyk likes you. I can tell. I've worked with him a few years here. If he didn't like you, you wouldn't have gotten a single shred of help. I saw you two wrestling around back there while he bitched and moaned." She had a Selnari accent, although she was also way looser with her speech than most of the people I'd run into so far. "Good wolf." She made like she was going to pat my head and smacked my ear instead, then cackled and went back to look at whatever computerized thing she was fooling with.

Huh. Time to get back home.

--

I'm leaving out a lot of stuff. I mean, so much fucking stuff. I have been blessed with the ability to... tolerate things. It probably doesn't sound like it; I don't sound very tolerant. I always have something to say and it's usually sarcastic, I get in people's faces, I don't like to take no for an answer, and I'll make the answer yes if it seems like you'll get off on it. However, at the same time, I wouldn't have gotten anywhere in my life if I didn't just shrug and stick my nose forward into something.

Every minute of every day since I'd gotten caught up in Alzarre's plan to 'escape certain hellfire on Earth', I was bombarded with stuff. For every uncanny familiarity - to something on Earth, to my own 'former life', every tasty smell, every tittilating feeling - there was an equal and opposite completely unseen, unsmelled, untasted, unfelt, and un-fucked thing.

After that first day of work, the next week went by surprisingly fast. Every day, a third of it was spent working, and working pretty hard. I kept waking up and fantasizing about what nasty things I'd do after work, only to fall asleep pretty much as soon as I'd finished eating. Then, I'd wake up in the middle of the night and think about stuff until my brain dissolved into mush, and I'd fall back asleep just to do it all over again. Oh, and with a side order of nightmares.

In other words, I was an American. In space. Where there was no America any more, because Earth was...

This was one of a handful of things that started to really bug me. Earth. Why was Earth a bad word? The answers were simplistic: after a global nuclear conflict that coincided with humanity making contact with the Tark, the planet recovered into a very solipsistic version of its former self and refused to join up with the galactic network as it formed. For the most part, The End. I found it hard to believe an entire planet would agree to do something, so my assumption was that someone on Earth was keeping it separated and someone else was going to get sick of it eventually. Apparently, that 'eventually' hadn't happened yet.

Another thing that bugged me: what happened to_my_ Earth, because that story had nothing to do with me, or anything furry like me, or the Selnari. I wasn't getting good answers about that yet.

There was also Marece. He did not have a singular name like I did; he just didn't tell me his last name. I was pretty sure he flirted with me, except when he seemed abruptly upset to be around me and furtively went back to his bunnyhole to eat his shit again or whatever the fuck hares did in their spare time. I knew something was up with him, and he knew I knew, except I didn't know what it was, so what a fucking pain in the ass.

--

The weekend arrived, and I went from having something worky to do, to having only myself to do. The first thing I did on Saturday was sleep the fuck in. I curled up in a wolf-nest of blankets and lolled my tongue out into a drool puddle on one of eleventy pillows and eventually got up when I started feeling anxious.

I decided to kill the proverbial two birds with one stone. That was actually something about Daleon that was unsettling; while there were people, and plants, there seemed to be no pets or wildlife. Add that to the, 'things that bug Hawk' list. I wanted - needed - to see more of the station. According to all of the information I could locate, there weren't any general traveling restrictions - the only restricted areas were station infrastructure or private business. I also wanted to perform an experiment: would people treat me differently if I was dressed 'well' versus dressed in my work coveralls.

My plan was hampered a little by my wristcomp. My apartment had what amounted to a convertible table/laptop/desktop computer, and I also had the portable device strapped to my arm. Despite this, trying to get nice big maps of the station was quite difficult. Everywhere I turned, I got messaging that stuff was easier to use with standard or enhanced ocular augmentation. Apparently, this was extremely common, such that the only people who didn't have augments either had some medical reason not to have things bolted into their eyeballs, had some extreme personal objection, or literally hadn't done the procedure yet for some reason. "Defrosted from daring and semi-nonconsensual escape from certain doom on Earth" qualified for "Some Reason". I gave in to the nagging - including that which I'd received from Marece as well as my new coworkers - and scheduled an appointment for the next week.

Then, on with my coveralls, and out into the world to explore the tram system. I probably should have listened to the prompts to get multiple sets of work uniforms, as I smelled a little more wolfy than I probably should have for the general public. If anyone sat next to me on a tram, they sniffed, and then sniffed again. I returned the favor. There wasn't much consistency in how Selnari tended to smell. Some of them very clearly used cologne or perfume; some smelled like fur; some smelled like whatever clothing they were wearing (e.g leather, or synthetics, and even a few who were wearing some good old fashioned latex to do their whatever routine); and some smelled like sex and body odor. I did notice something interesting about smells: while people would obviously sniff each other, and even obviously comment on it (either when sniffing me to me, or just me overhearing and eavesdropping), it didn't seem to actually impact social interaction. Earth had not been like that. If you smelled strongly and it wasn't that kind of sex scene, you were shunned, even if you were all wolves in the room.

My experiment was four-part. I would visit two different social class areas of the station dressed like Working Wolf, and two different areas dressed like Space Pirate Wolf. I didn't really think I looked like a space pirate, although I didn't really know what one looked like yet, and I'd seen other people dressed similarly who weren't gawked at.

Daleon in general was oriented linearly in terms of class. At the 'ass end' of the station was the main star port and a lot of infrastructure and commercial operations; I was housed in the residential area at the head of that particular 'cylinder'. At the head end of the station there were very expensive housing areas, as well as a large greenery area that I couldn't figure out how to actually enter. It wasn't as simple as the sci-fi trope of 'district 1 dines on the flesh of endangered animals while wearing multi-dimensional clothing, and district 5 fights to the death for scraps of sewer rat meat', though. There was plenty of the 'public housing' I was in even in the fancy part of the station, and there was some pretty fancy stuff even in my area. While there was the 'large greenery area' I couldn't seem to access, there was tons of 'green space' everywhere.

The station had 'windows' to outer space, however they weren't particularly huge compared to the amount of stuff and people inside of it. You pretty much had to go find an observation area and sit down to observe space. There were a few general 'windows' where there weren't people, which let you see the planet and sun that the station was located near - I'd seen those before when going to Mezz-5. The whole station seemed to rotate, though it didn't seem fast enough to provide meaningful gravity. I guessed that if it didn't rotate, one part would get hotter than the rest and that was problematic.

More importantly, the station had artificial gravity, which allowed for some confusing configurations. There were multiple of those mezzanine entertainment plazas and similar things to them, and they were at various angles to the residential areas that mostly lined the cylinders. This was unsettling and partly saved from view by landscaping. There was a lot of open space, and yet also a lot of stuff crammed into the space. The public transport system was extensive and allowed someone the ability to basically get anywhere; there was also private transport which worked on a series of 'roads' that weren't accessible on foot, made up of vehicles from motorcycle size up to bus-sized. That's where the vehicles I worked on at 'work' operated.

I got more and more reminders from food and drink merchants that my wristcomp was antiquated, to the point that I wondered if there was a cult or perhaps some company made a lot of money selling ocular implants. The bulk of real reactions were just due to me myself and I. Consistently, Selnari stared at me. I managed to find some news broadcasts about the Dominion Prime situation, and there were definitely some pictures of me, however they were seemingly cataloging pictures taken on the Numbers Station Whose Numbers I Already Forgot, and I couldn't remember them being taken. One of them was a bit like a mug shot; another made me look gaunt and terrible and wearily older and unkempt, so it must have been shortly after being birthed from a freezer pop.

People looked at me like they knew something. "Selnari are empathic", well, I must be a fucking fountain of complex lupine emotions to garner that kind of ogling. I tried to separate the regular Selnari ogling from the Hener ogling; more than a few times, I got significant attention from Hener Selnari of both sexes (narrator's note: like humanity in general, while there's generally two sexes, there seemed to be a large gray area with Selnari and not just because there were some clothing customs I didn't understand yet.) I think I got some regular Selnari sex-stares too, just that the Hener were much more reliable about it and seemed more positive about it. I'd actually say that regular Selnari would give me the "am I attracted to you? Why?" look I'd seen a handful of times in my life.

That balance changed a bit once I wasn't in my work uniform. I left the mask out of things - I did a little research and those types of masks were almost always worn for the entertainment plazas, and it was "wearing white after labor day" to just wear them all around the station. I immediately noticed that I felt more comfortable tramming around Daleon in my new leathers. Wearing work coveralls made me feel like I was sex cosplaying as a mechanic. Hey, I gotta replace the air conditioner in your car. What, you can't pay the two thousand dollars? Don't worry, my ten inch dick takes lots of payment options. Wearing leather made me feel like me, Mister Black-furred Power Wolf. More than once, I had people move out of the way as I came by, all while staring me down.

The end result of my experiment: class area had no effect; clothing did; I needed more coveralls; and I ended up with sore feet from all the walking.

--

I left Tark out of the discussion because they were inscrutable to me. If I had to guess, around one percent of the population of Daleon were Tark lizardy-dragony-people. Their reaction to me was to look at me, though with the same look they gave everything and everyone else. The fastest way to imagine a Tark is to imagine some sort of fantasy Dragon Creature, make it walk about on two legs, and then remove its wings. Unlike Selnari and Humans, they had no breasts and I couldn't visibly tell the generally-two biological sexes apart easily. I heard them referred to as he and she as well as the general they, so that concept existed. They weren't very talkative; I had some luck engaging random Selnari in conversation, even some Hener though they universally spoke poor common English. Tark? If I wasn't having a business transaction with them, I could maybe get single-word direct answers to questions.

Then there were Tarak, of which I saw a total of three, and one of them was my boss. Tarak looked more like lizards and less like Earth Fantasy Dragons, and also tended to be... fat. Not grossly obese, just the three of them were big and thick and had bellies. Obesity did not seem to be a thing in a general sense; the fattest people I saw were also very bearish and muscular, or just actual ursines. Nothing like back on Earth. Even I was kinda fat for a few years when I was younger - I had some personal issues when I got fired from my first real job after college, and ended up flabby and depressed before I got my shit together.

Jade - my best Tarak example - was different from the Tark I'd seen primarily in how he acted. He seemed to be ferociously lazy, to the point of ribbing from Christyk and Cara, and even more quiet. Until I said something in private to him while having a break, and then he started talking my arm off. He spoke English poorly, and he also seemed to speak TIL poorly - there was a Hener mink named Torn who worked as a 'parts runner' and he got into verbal fights with Jade over not being able to understand him. Both him and Cristyk _seemed_angry; Torn actually was. I noticed that the Hener who spoke poor English tried to avoid talking or seemed apologetic. Jade just rambled when he got going, and incoherently. The deepest explanation I got from him and others was that he wasn't human, just like Tark weren't human. While Selnari were Selnari, in a sense they were 'human' and occasionally used that term when differentiating themselves from Tark, Tarak, or computer virtual intelligence

And then there was Cara. Both Cara and Cristyk gave me the 'funny look', though Cristyk seemed to stay quiet about it. Cara did not. She only sometimes wore 'work clothing', and the only pattern was wearing her coveralls if she had to go somewhere on the clock, presumably to interact with a customer or vendor for some reason. Otherwise, she was biker punk Cara. If I was in the break area alone with her, trying to have coffee or navigate my wristcomp, she'd put her boots in my face.

"Why the fuck do you do that?"

"You like 'em, yeah?"

I looked at her boots. Indeed, they were my kind of boots on a person. Very classic square-toe boot with a leather harness around the ankle, rivets and d-rings, and a tall stovepipe shaft. "Yeah, I guess."

"You don't _guess_anything like that. You've started wearing your regular clothes here and changing. And I've seen how you dress. I know what guys who dress like that are like."

"Are they fuckin' space pirates?" I slurped at my synth-coffee.

She cackled. "They like the kind of clothes you're wearing. It's stuff men wear for men."

I shrugged. "Sounds about right."

"And despite that, women get caught up in it. And anyone who's in the middle. What'd you call that where you're from?"

I squinted. "Trans. Like transgendered. Transsexual. Maybe intersex if they're born indeterminately sexed, like with both parts, or neither, or some weird combo."

"Anyway, I'm just being a pest. You're hot." She then took her boots down and leaned in. "You're so hot, when you walk in here, I feel like it's gonna push me into the wall."

I laughed. "If you just said I dress like a queer..." this word got a strange look, "Like I'm gay," that got a knowing head bob, "Then if you're gonna hit on me, does that mean you're one of those ladies who likes to turn gay men straight for fun? Because that's kinda rotten."

"Nah, I just don't know if you're bi or gay."

"And I work with you, this kinda discussion is gonna just lead to problems..."

"Would it?" She seemed smug for a second, then perked her eyes up. "Oh. Wait. Of course, you're... no, normally, it wouldn't. Selnari are really good with casual sex versus romantic connection. Depending on the situation and the people and whether it's one of those Hener things, casual sex is even important."

I suddenly realized that Jade was paying attention from his office. He seemed to like staring at people, in a way that was real fucking rude to humans, at least my personal human. "Do not have casual sex in the break room," he said, out the office door, and then pointed to a safety regulations placard. It didn't mention sex, but it did mention to avoid spilling things and to clean up biological accidents immediately. Sure thing, boss, I'll avoid having a biological accident all over Cara's tits.

My turn to put my boots on the table. My work boots, which were still leather and honestly I'd wear them with some tight leather jeans, for sure. "I usually don't think about it, but I'm pretty sure I'm entirely gay."

"Okay. Then I'm going to invite you to come see something cool with me after work, and there is absolutely no obligation to fuck involved. And if you were up for it, we could, and it's definitely not in the break room, Jade." She clunked her own coffee mug into my boot, and went back to her workstation next to Jade's office. It's funny how five hundred years into a galactic space empire, people still have coffee and they still have it in a heavy cup with a handle. "Oh. You have to wear your cool outfit, not this stuff," she called out.

--

After work, I got changed, and was about to leave when Cara surprised me from outside the building. "Hey, wanna see something cool? Like your outfit, which you changed into."

"You have tits, yeah," I shrugged.

She cackled. "No, come on back here," she beckoned with a half-gloved hand, and walked into the service alley that led behind the shop.

"'Hey Mister Space Pirate Wolf, why don't you come into this alley with me?' There's certainly no fuckin' way this could go wrong."

She turned and walked backwards towards a motley collection of vehicles. "You're funny. Also, what's this space pirate thing?" She looked me up and down. "Oh yeah, I guess I see it. That's really reaching though. Anyway," she seamlessly backed up against something that I would generally have classed as a 'car'. "Wanna go for a ride?"

"Is that a car? What the fuck do you need cars for on a space station?"

She cackled again, and did something that opened a door on either side. "You've been repairing delivery trucks for a week! What do you think? You take stuff and people from here to there! From our office, to the coolest place on the station! Get in."

"You oughta call me Mister Wolf. It's what everyone who I don't just work with addresses me," I said, and climbed in the passenger side. Indeed, this was a car, and it was designed to move people around instead of stuff. There were two plus two seats, and the whole thing seemed kind of maybe sporty if you squint. At the same time, there was a very strange vibe about it, like it wasn't actually all built by the same people, at the same time. I had a bit of a car thing in my previous life.

There was no engine noise, just some clicks and whirrs as the screens turned on. "Okay, Mister Wolf. You oughta really like where we're going." She navigated the car out of the alleyway, and onto what seemed like a road, but was more like a limited access ramp from a parking garage. There were a few other vehicles about, though I wouldn't call it 'traffic'. We eventually had to stop at another ramp junction, and this time there was a dizzying amount of traffic flashing by. "Oh yeah, hold on."

"If you're trying to impress your way into my pants, it-whuf!" She accelerated so fast that it squeezed the air out of me when I was pushed into the seat. "What the fuck!" Not only was traffic fast, but the roadway didn't go in normal directions. We went a hundred yards straight, and then up at an angle that should have felt spine-rending and actually just felt normal. At the apex of the curve, we and several other vehicles shot into a tunnel.

"There's a lot of empty space in the station. It's part of the atmosphere management. You'd think you could just fly something around, except the reason cars are safe and planes aren't is that gravity sticks you to the ground in a car. So, to get around fast, there's roads. Antigravity takes power, and something this big is just the wrong size for enough power to float at this speed, so wheels." She didn't exactly drive it completely - there was a steering wheel, though when she let go with both hands for a moment, the wheel twitched on its own. If I had to guess, we were going at least one hundred miles an hour.

"Uhh, what do you know about planes on a space station..."

"Hah! I'm from a planet called Erex. I got sick of being on a planet and space seemed cool. After half my life... I dunno. I wouldn't mind a planet again. You can never go outside up here, you know?"

While Cara talked, I clutched onto anything I could clutch onto. On autopilot, the twisting roadway we hurtled down was butt-clenching enough; Cara was in control when she wanted to be, like when two motorcycle-ish things hurtled past and crossed over in front, before hanging back and then bolting forward. While they had wheels, they seemed to be hovering over the ground, hence the acrobating crossover. It was like biker squids back on Earth, only in three dimensions. "What the hell was that!"

"Skip bikes, and those dumb guys are definitely out on a death wish. You're not allowed to jump out of gee-fx like that, it's a big fine if not license suspension and lockout and stuff." Cara spoke while navigating us through a swerve to avoid a slower delivery vehicle. "I bet that sounds badass if you don't know what I'm talking about."

Maybe it was the endorphin rush from the adrenaline comedown, but I was starting to like Cara. She scared me. Also, she was kinda hot. I really don't find women hot in any general sense. I can appreciate someone being attractive no matter what. This time, I found her weirdly hot attractive, not just conceptually fucking attractive. "You have some kind of mysterious past? Maybe run-ins with space police?"

She cackled, and also eased up. She looked over at me, and it was with simple glee. "I am a dork. I've been screwing around with computers and electronics since I was a little girl. However, skip bikes are everywhere planetside. Since they're ground-effect lifters, once you're on gee-fx, you can kind of go over anything, and fast. See? I'm a dork. I tried riding one once. Nope! Felt like any second I was going to go spiraling off into a pylon. So, I get my fast fix with cars. It's a little bit of why I ended up here, I get to drive around now and then."

Okay, if you want to impress me with car stuff, I'll play along. "I used to have a muscle car. Mustang GT500. Supercharged five-point-two-liter flat-plane-crank V8. Four hundred and fifty horsepower. Jet black, just like me. It's like having a big penis but with four wheels on it."

She looked over at me, cocked her head, and then squinted slightly. "What's a V8?"

That really stuck me under a cold shower. "You know, a V-8. Eight cylinders in a V. An internal combustion engine."

She looked aghast, then laughed a standard laugh. "Wait, you mean like fuel-burning? You have to be kidding me."

"No, we liked destroying our planet one quarter mile at a time."

We rocketed into a tunnel and came out slowing down onto a ramp into a dedicated slower speed area. We came to a "Restricted Area" gate, slowed to a crawl, and Cara pulled something out of a storage compartment in the 'car' that was not not the glovebox. She stuck her arm out the window and waved it at a remarkably familiar "access control reader" kiosk, and a liftgate moved out of the way so we could proceed.

"This is a really elaborate kidnapping," I said, watching some station-infrastructure go by as we whirred towards a parking area next to an enormous wall.

Cara cackled as she parked. "Look, I'm taking you somewhere completely public, it's just the best way to get into it without all the people. Also, the drive is fun. See that Tark cop up there? Don't worry. Follow me."

Said Tark cop was indeed wearing a DSS uniform - Daleon Station Security - and while I don't think I can read the full range of emotion from an alien species, he didn't seem to like that we were there. "This is a restricted area."

"Yeah? How do you think I drove in here?" Cara called back. Then, she yelled something in TIL. The officer looked surprised, then flustered, then made a gesture I didn't recognize at all.

"This is official parking. If we need the spot, your vehicle will be removed."

"No shit, I know the rules," the hyena shrugged, then leaned up towards my ear. "He flipped us off in Tark. I know that guy. They're always so stuck up about everything. They can't express emotions with words, emotive song and all that bullshit, I think they're just full of themselves."

"Sounds racist," I said, as we headed towards a door. Just like the vehicle gate, Cara waved a small device at it and the door unlatched.

"Tark are weird. I can explain a bit if you want, but first, come inside." She beckoned me in. There was a cramped access hallway beyond the door, which opened out-

Into a whole-ass forest, god damn. "What the hell?" I looked around. Dirt, moss, tree roots, trees, shrubs, weeds, rocks, a little bit of mist, the sound of a stream trickling nearby, a more muted sound of a small waterfall further away. It actually looked a hell of a lot like a typical Northeast United States forest. It even smelled like one, pine needles and leaves and grasses and some flowering wildflowers and petrichor from whatever was making the stream noises. If it weren't for that occasional 'nerves in sand' feeling from the artificial gravity, I'd have guessed I somehow had walked into a portal to back home.

"This, is the Holtzer Forest, the biggest conformance park on the station and maybe a quarter of what's in the head-end of this giant space wart." When she spoke, I squinted and looked confused. "Daleon looks like a wart. I mean, if you ripped a wart out of a person, I guess. I've never seen one. It's just a saying."

"Conformance park?" I kept looking around. I felt a strange feeling inside, a pang of nostalgic grief, a sense of feral glee, and the heady swim of all the sounds and smells and sights of dense greenery. It was a First feeling, and I hadn't had it for weeks, give or take five hundred years or so.

Quick moment of wolf-splaining here: on Earth, there were four types of humans or humanoids, designated by something called the International Phenotype Classification. The first humans to be turned into hybrids formed a phenotype called IPC-1, slanged as "Firsts". The process tended to leave people with a... I guess you could say a bifurcated mind, with animal stuff up front along with human stuff. So, a second generation was figured out, and that's IPC-2, who made up the bulk of the hybrids around. These IPC things don't follow regular genetics, so for example, if an IPC-1 and 2 have sex and make a baby, the baby will be either IPC-1 or 2, not some weird mix. Just like species; cat plus dog equals cat or dog, not Dat/Cog. The hybrid stuff is weird and kinda confusing, to be honest. IPC-3 are known as the Shenaus, furless canids who were engineered for law enforcement and the military. Then, there's IPC-4 or IPC-H depending on what country you're in, who are non-hybrid humans.

They also don't mix in; for example, my mom was IPC-H and my dad was IPC-1, and as a result, I'm a First. I could have also been born a plain human, but I wasn't. I was born a big, bad wolf. Grr. There's a whole lot of stuff about Firsts that is kind of important but isn't really important to you, so anyway... despite my Brooklyn's best accent and attitude, I actually feel pretty wolfy a lot. I just can't articulate it. The social stigma is that Firsts are more base, more bestial, less controllable. There is - well, was - a whole movement to reclaim that, called the First Dawn. I was the chapter leader for Lainsville. Go me, giving back to my fuckin' community.

Anyway, standing in this 'conformance park' forest made me feel intensely wolfy. You probably would feel pretty unsettled if you felt that way, excited and overstimulated, but I'd long since gotten a handle on it. To satiate my wolfy curiosity, I started walking. Cara let me. We were on a set of 'nature trails' that were surprisingly rough; they were beaten down by feet and the brush was sometimes invasive and only clipped here and there. "Good, you're going the right way. You want to find that waterfall, don't you?"

"Got some idea to frolic naked in the pool underneath it?"

She cackled, though also covered her muzzle. I took it to mean 'not so loud'. "No way, it's cold! Anyway, the path makes a big fork and you want to go left."

Not only were we hiking on a space station; we were hiking up. After a cardio-workout hike that left me panting enough to drool, we stopped in a shade-grassy clearing. The waterfall didn't start right there; the creek that formed it ran down a rocky little switchback for maybe one 'story' and then spilled over a ledge. Integrated into the landscape, and hard to see without getting close, was a netting. I went to peek over the edge and got it right in the face. I could have just leaned my whole body weight onto it with no worry of it breaking, despite how barely visible it was. "Safety netting. Nice." While leaning like that, I gawked at the view. The waterfall indeed fed a little splash pond, which led to less forest and more lush landscaping. It was, to put it mildly, beautiful. And unexpected. "This seems like... this seems like a lotta fuckin' effort for a space station."

Cara shrugged and moved to sit near some large, mossy rocks. She rummaged behind one where there were some haphazard branches, and pulled out a hiking blanket, shook it, and laid it down. Then she really stretched out. There was more than enough room for two on it. "It's part of the environmental management. You know, plants and carbon dioxide, all that. Plus humidity. Anyway, you asked what a conformance park is. It's for green-bathing. Humanoid brains are built to find natural green stuff to be calming. Didn't proto-humans live in trees or something? It's really important - a couple of real early mixed Selnari/Tark stations failed as a result of not doing this kind of thing. The Selnari would go nuts, get depressed, get upset, leave, have problems." She patted the blanket. "Don't pace around."

"I'm a wolf. Maybe I wanna go eat a deer."

"I don't think that's legal."

"Okay, then I'll fuck it. That's legal. At least if I ask first, right?"

She gave me a squinting look, then chuckled and gave the universal human, "whatever" flick of the head. I came over and sat down on the blanket. She'd adjusted it so that I could lean back on the rock. Was it comfortable? Physically, no. Conceptually, it was great. I leaned back and put my hands behind my head.

"So what, you brought me to some little space woods so you could have some alone time with the mysterious space pirate Earth Wolf?"

Cara shrugged and reclined back with me. "Yeah. Also, I like coming here. I got the maintenance access pass from some guy who I was pet-sitting for. His doriag really likes sitting in trees, and he worked for park maintenance."

"Uh-huh," I said, as if I knew what a doriag was. "I'd have thought you'd like a desert or something, being a hyena."

She cackled. I started to wonder if she was laughing or making some more feral hyena sound that didn't mean the same thing. It wasn't that common back on Earth, or it really meant laughter. "I said I'm from a planet, right? Erex. It's the first major planetary settlement in the Galactic Network. And yeah, I'm actually from a desert part of it, and I fucking hated it."

We had a long moment of just enjoying the nature. I found myself thinking compulsively about anything and everything, and then just focusing on what was happening around me instead.

She spoke back up. "You seem interesting and maybe a little mysterious. I'm not sure I trust the station welfare people to dump a lot of useful stuff on you, like usually people know a lot of things even if they're from way out in the unknowns. And there really aren't a lot of non-network people coming into these stations, at least ones who are completely oblivious to what the network is."

"Well, I know what food tiers are, and also leather tiers. And this is real leather." I gestured to my jacket.

Cara reached over across my chest and smoothed down the far side of it. "Mmm-hmm."

"Hey, isn't consent a big part of Selnari bullshit? I didn't say you could do that."

"Mmm. Well, that's true, and also, I kind of want to talk to you about something related to that." She sounded a bit sultry at first, then just serious. "You're very hot. You're attractive, and your attitude is pretty awful in a very enticing way, and your voice," she then made a whew whistle through her teeth. "I'm sure you know that. You seem like the kind of guy who knows how people react to him."

"Ehh, maybe I just act that way on purpose. And did it long enough it got stuck. Or maybe I was just born an attractive hazard." I didn't move her hand off me. I did undo the lapels of the jacket. It wasn't exactly warm in the forest, though it was humid enough I felt a bit stuffy. Plus, maybe I ought to try something new for a change.

She found that I wasn't wearing a shirt over my fur, and moved her hand to stroke over my chest. Instead of fondling my pecs like I'd assume someone would, she immediately ran her fingers up and down the centerline, using her claws to scratch down against my skin. I groaned and leaned back; it felt too good, both down into my dick and up into my wolf brain. She kept talking. "So that's how I think of you, after this week of watching your ass as you and Christyk fight over those stupid robot unloaders. However, I also think there's something... wrong with you, and I wanted to maybe see if I'm just crazy or it's really something. Remember how I said when you come into a room, it's like your attractiveness pushes me into a wall?"

Something fucking wrong with me, huh. "I think so," I mumbled.

"You know Selnari are empathic, right? It's called the arkanic ability. The arkanum. I think that's some old Earth word related to magic or something. Arcane? It's a pretty old term from the early human settlement days on Selnar, before the Convergence War. Anyway, it's just... we feel each other's emotions. And if you're feeling someone's emotion, it's because they're... broadcasting it? It's not controllable. It just happens. It's like having body heat or something. Or like, if you talk to me, you're making sound and I'm hearing it."

I nodded, though mostly looked down at where Cara was touching me. She went a bit lower, and it made me twitch my abdomen and arch my back. I guess if a girl's gonna touch me, it might as well be this one. She seems cool. She even said there's something wrong with me. That's honesty for you. I've known that for years. Over five hundred.

"Well, since you're from Earth, I wouldn't expect to feel anything from you, since you're not... Selnari. However, it's like... it's like you project sex. Arousal, interest, need, it just like... beams out of you, all the time. Christyk is kind of the opposite of those Hener Selnari - you know about them?" I nodded, she continued petting me like a big, tongue-lolling house doggy. "Like he won't have sex with people unless it's very special, and also, I don't think he likes men much. So he probably just ignores it. Or thinks you're weird. Or maybe, that's why he's so helpful to you, however he's just like that all the time if he gets on with someone. Me, though, I like men, and wow. I figure if you're exuding that kind of emotion, you must be feeling it, so you probably like all kinds of stuff."

I shrugged, and stretched in a different direction. "I used to run a sex club, so yeah, I'm a pervert, I'm kinda always horny, I always think about sex, it's just a constant porn movie in my head, and a really complicated one. Maybe they mangled my DNA or unmangled it or something after they unfroze me. It's... well, why would I be doing that thing, though? I'm not Selnari."

"It's just that one emotion. It's not other ones. Like when you get annoyed at stuff at work, you don't... I don't feel it. Or when you seem excited, or whatever else. It's just like, you walk into a room preceded by this cloud of sex."

On one hand, this really seemed like something I'd like. I practically had fantasies about stuff like that. On the other hand... "I guess that explains why everyone stares at me funny. They do it no matter how I dress, so it's not this space pirate thing I keep hearing. Is it a problem?"

Cara took her turn to shrug. "I don't know. It's weird. I mean here's this wolf guy supposedly from Earth, where there aren't any Selnari, and yet... arkanic sex waves just flow out from him. It's a bit hard to resist, actually." Her hand then grasped at my belt. "No one can see us, probably, and no one usually comes up here. It's hard to get to from down there versus the maintenance access. It's still public, though. What would you do here, if you knew at any moment someone could come up here and catch you doing it?"

I looked her in the eye. "I don't know what to do with a girl. I mean, I've never fucked one, so I don't know how to start. Fucking in the forest seems like maybe it's a bit involved. I mean outright fucking. What if you get woodchips in your... pussy." She seemed to like the word enough that she grinned. "You can take my dick out, though. See if you like it. Maybe it's too much for you."

"Oh pfft," she huffed, and at the same time, started opening my pants. Which was easy, thanks to that drop front. "You're really dressed for it. I mean there's nothing wrong with that, but this is for fucking. Usually guys have zips or buckles or something so they don't, you know, snag it on something and flop out in front of everyone." She rubbed me as much as she one by one popped the snaps free. Yeah, they could catch on something. Or a coworker could convince me to get alone with her and she could pop them free while making eye contact.

"You better not try to get favors at work because I'm gonna let you skin my sausage," I grunted, and scooted back so I could sit up a little more against the rock.

She winced at the vision, then took the flap down. There it was, the look. "Big wolf. That's gonna go that last little bit inside. I guess you're right, I'm not sure I can take that." She 'covered' my cock with her hand, although she couldn't cover the whole thing, especially not with how hard I got the moment she started touching it. Then she leaned down and gave the head a lick. "I hope you're not expecting a blowjob."

"Nah, not unless you're a horse or a cow or a regular skinbag human. You can lick me all you want, though. You gonna get me off here, or is this just teasing and I'll have to ache in my pants while you drive me around the station and take me home with you?" I looked her up and down while she cradled my cock in one hand and slurped around the head. She was dressed generally the same way she had before, although instead of leather shorts, she had a leather miniskirt, and no jacket on over her leather halter top. It had a clasp in the front - I was pretty sure I could just unbuckle it and it'd flop to the sides. "You wearing that for me?" I reached over and fingered at the buckle and pulled it free; she shrugged her chest forward and the halter top halves dangled open.

"Mm," she wiped at her muzzle with one hand, then switched which one she was using to hold my cock so she could smear drool all over my cock flesh. She then slowly started milking my bare glans, which made me wince into a snarl. "So. Mister Inexperienced, I like to have my nipples touched, stroked, massaged, and not pinched. If you pinch, I will pinch your cock off. Or bite it." She then made a fearsome snap. I flinched, though it wasn't unattractive or a turnoff.

"You didn't answer me," I growled.

She rubbed her hand through her mohawk, then moved so we were hip to hip. "Originally, I wanted to do what you said, and then I just can't really be bothered to get up and go all the way back to the car, you know?" She grabbed for my hand. "For a big, tough wolf, you like to lie back and just go with things, huh."

"I'm a big, tough wolf who likes to imagine being served by people," I said, twisted my gloved fingers around, and felt her thigh as she pulled it down there. I reached around her upper body and felt over her bare breast on the far side, then stroked my fingers over her thick nipple. She groaned and shuddered and held closer to me. "And if they serve me wrong, I punish them. And yet, I'm nice enough to not wanna do the wrong thing right now and just blow it."

"Mm-hmm. Go on, feel up in there. You can leave your gloves on." She helped nudge my hand up under her skirt. Since I couldn't see what I was doing, I just put two fingers together and nudged around, and immediately felt warmth and a grab around my fingertips. She abruptly grunted. "Whoa! Don't just..." I backed off, and teased around.

"I was half expecting to find a dick here. You know, wild hyenas and stuff."

"Nope, and you won't have to fuck me in my clit, either. You've really never been with a woman, have you."

I shook my head. "No girls, no female hyenas, but I'm not dumb, though. Like this-" I fingered over what had to be her clit, nudging the hood around, and then trying to feel up under it. "I know what this is."

She clutched onto me, yanking away from my nipple-teasing fingers. "Ahh, Hawk, is that really your name? Just Hawk? Hawk, don't... I mean do, but don't... not so rough."

"You don't wanna cum already?"

"If you play with my clit too roughly, I'll just pee on you. And I squirt normally, but I mean I'll just pee on you."

"I'm a wolf, I pee on stuff for a hobby."

She cackled and held me a bit more gingerly. "If we weren't in a park, I'd have you pee all over my tits. I kind of don't want to walk around covered in piss for the rest of the evening. Otherwise, I love it," she said, and nuzzled me, then licked. I licked back, and we tongue-kissed for a few moments. "You're doing alright. You at least can use a nipple. I'm not so sure about your other hand."

"I'm a tough wolf, what do you fuckin' expect? Holding the teacup with my pinky out?"

She gave me a not sure if serious look, then rolled towards me and straddled atop my lap. I had to pull my hand out from between her legs lest I get it bent at a bad angle; she didn't hike her skirt up, and just let the leather ride against my cock. "To answer your question about what would I do here, I would do it like this. Then Mister Tough Wolf can just put his hands behind his head and smirk up at me while I squirt all over his lap-"

"Hey, I have to smirk, somethin' happened to my face when I was younger and the shit they did to me here after unfreezing me didn't undo it."

"And I don't think you want me to squirt mostly piss all over your fancy leathers, right? So how about this," she then rolled off my other side and pushed me aside, then hunkered up against the rock. She folded her arms against the sloped and mossy surface, pushed her rump out, and flipped her tail up a few times as if to dislodge the skirt. "Also, if you do me like this, I'll actually cum from it. Versus you having to put those gloved pliers back to work." Her voice took on a comedically keening grate to it. "Also, you can-"

My wolfy self got the better of me and I stuck my face up under her skirt. She'd showered before going to work, and used the bidet thing that all the toilets have. She'd also been aroused for a while, because she was wet and stank of... girl sex. Which definitely does not smell the same as a virile, musky guy's dick, let me tell you that. I wouldn't say I liked the smell, but it pushed some instinctual button somewhere; I gave her a few licks, and that was better. She groaned. I slurped about, curled my tongue around anything I could curl it around, and even tried to worm it up inside her sex. She seemed to like it most when I let her clit push against my lower lip and I tongued up inside.

I heard a light thwap and immediately pulled my head back. "Huh?" She had her head against the rock, and drool running out of her mouth. "You alright?"

"Well, I was until you stopped!" She laughed, this time without that cackling noise. "It's fine. I really want to take your big dick for a ride."

"You're pretty frank," I said, and she just looked at me. "Uhh. Frank, like, forward, uninhibited, honest about stuff." She looked like she understood and nodded. "So do I gotta do anything special?" I brandished my cock and tugged the foreskin back, squeezed at the base, and helped push out a drool of precum.

"Put it in the right hole and push it in and out. I'm pretty sure even a dumb, tough wolf like you can figure it out."

I gave her a smack and she yelped, then laughed again. I'd made a sloppy mess of her pussy lips and the fur around everything; I moved up behind her, made sure I was using the right hole - hah - and started to push forward. She visibly winced and grasped onto the rock, and I could feel the slippery heat spreading around my cockhead. I pulled back and did it again, and again. For once, I felt a bit lost for words. I didn't really find a lot attractive about having sex with a woman, like I said, although it was really hard in the moment to think anything aside from how slick and hot and surprisingly strong she was. Each time I tugged back, she squeezed on me like she didn't want me to pull away - so I gave up doing that, and pushed up deeper. I had about eight inches inside and was just nudging deeper when she pushed up onto her hands and actually pulled moss off the rock with her clawnails.

"Oh. Oohhh. Okay feel that? Don't go any deeper. It's... I don't think I can relax enough right now. But, but, straighten your knees a bit? Lift up?"

"I don't need that many instructions," I grunted.

"Oh fuck you, you'd have put it in my ear if I hadn't bent over first!"

I lifted up a little, she hunkered down, and then she nudged back. Her voice and breath caught in her throat. "Shit. You hit the spot. Right there. Just... just do it."

I honestly wasn't sure what to do - deeper? Harder? Not deeper? Not harder? I started to grind, then thrust, using the vague tight feeling to know when I was going too far. If I leaned forward, or straightened my knees, she groaned and moaned a lot louder than I was expecting.

"I am fucking glad I met you, I'm real glad you came to work with us, I'm extremely glad you let me tease you and please, please cum in me."

"Are you sure? Wait a minute, don't, I mean, condoms and shit-"

"Oh fuck that, those are for kinky weirdos, we have birth control, I have to apply for a fucking permit to have babies! I don't want your babies! I want you to fuck the sense out of me!" Cara growled, and looked back over her shoulder.

I was not expecting how vigorous she wanted it, and it was actually a little tough to keep up. She wasn't the same as fucking someone's asshole - it was still nice, just not the same level of intense. And Cara herself was snarling, grunting, cackling, and drooling enough that the moss and dirt turned into mud under her face. Meanwhile, I was getting a thigh and glute workout pounding into her - my balls slapped audibly, and that seemed to get her to whoop and groan even further. Her sounds just escalated until she screwed her face up and I could feel her squeezing around me - as well as a noticeable wet squirting sound. I looked down and watched wetness drizzle down the rock.

Another few moments, my eyes squeezed shut, and I felt the rush of climax pump through me and up into her. About halfway through, she lifted a boot and pushed me back off. "Whaaa?!" I snorted, and fell back onto my ass, cock spurting up from my lap and splatting seed all over my fur, my coat, and my thighs.

She laughed and cackled together. "Look at the mess you made of me!" she sputtered, and stuck her rump out. Her vulva was dark on the outside and glistening wet, engorged, and she looked quite loose - and my spunk slopped out of the hole and ran down her big but not cock-big clit before dripping off onto the rock.

"That's disgusting," I growled, and wiped at my own streaks of seed. "You fucking made a mess of me! What kind of a punk bitch are you, anyway?"

She rolled over off the rock, then moved to the side and squatted for a few moments, hanging her wrists off her knees. "You know, I kind of wanted to be one of those Hener when I was younger, like when I first started growing tits and stuff. I mean, I really like sex. I really feel like I kinda know more about someone by fucking them, you know? That's a big Hener thing."

I squinted, and continued trying to clean myself off. I had wiped up a few streaks with my fingers and licked them clean before I realized I was kneeling on a whole-ass blanket, which I used to finish up. "Yeah, I guess," I said absently.

"I just don't give a shit about religion. You have to and should do the right things the right ways for those in the order. Anyway, I bet you want to know what I think of you now."

"Go for it."

"You're completely bewildered fucking me and you probably want to go back to a hot guy's ass."

I laughed. "How about that thing? You know. How you feel it beaming out of me."

"Much less. Although it really hit me, that's why I pushed you off. I could practically hear it. A lot milder right now," she said, got up from squatting, and dusted herself off while clipping her halter top back together. "Let's go see the rest of the park."

--

Did you want to know what the rest of Holtzer Forest looked like? It looked like the Walt Disney World version of a huge nature area state/national park. While it was big, it was hardly as big as something like Hopswith Nature Area near my old suburban house. Yes, it's the same Hopswith as that bull guy. He was a cousin or something.

We eventually made our way back past where we'd messily fucked and out of the forest through the maintenance hallway. There were a few more vehicles parked there, and no evidence of either the Tark officer or any kind of parking ticket or fine. We climbed back in, and Cara treated me to just as wild a ride, this time back to my own sector.

"You seem quiet," she said, as I held tight enough to the door handle that my glove squeaked.

"I'm just... you know, taking everything in."

"I'm the one who took you in," she chuckled. "Hopefully it didn't scare you off."

"Kinda seemed really casual. Like it just happened."

"That's why it's called 'casual sex'," she said, one half-gloved hand on the wheel, the other adjusting her mohawk a few different ways. "Were you expecting something more?"

I looked out the window as we left the high-speed roadway and wound around some area I'd never seen. "Nah. I guess it's just culture shock. I feel like I'm missing something. I mean just in general." I didn't tell her that I had a tendency to get a rotten, black feeling after having sex. That didn't seem very polite. Not like Cara was exactly polite... and it had nothing to do with her, just after that orgasmic rush, I had space to think about what I'd just done.

She dropped me off at some commercial loading dock. I rounded a corner after waving off, and walked right into the 'food court' square next to my apartment. I hadn't even realized there were roads back there before. People gave me a bit less of a stare, but only a bit.