Interlude

Story by Radical Gopher on SoFurry

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#3 of Tales of the Outlander


This is yet another sequel to The Outlander. I recommend you read the first two stories, The Outlander and A Harvest of Souls so you will have a better understanding of the overall premise and the charactes.

This is a work of fiction. It contains explicit adult themes and as such is not recommended for readers under the age of 18.

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INTERLUDE

"Well, here's another fine mess you've gotten us into," muttered the equine. The red-haired woman lying next to him on the roof rolled her eyes in exasperation as they watched the two battle tanks rumble slowly down the street, escorted by two score of infantry.

"I got us in this?" she answered. "Just whose idea was it to go on a romantic night out in Rio, huh?"

"Mine," the alien admitted. "I thought with the Carnival in full swing it would be easy to pass as just someone else in a costume. I just wanted to take you out someplace where you could relax and have fun. Besides, you said we needed a bit of a break after dealing with that African drug lord."

"Well, the intention was honest enough. And it might have worked," she admitted reluctantly, "if it hadn't been for that drunken idiot who thought you were moving in on his girl."

"...Or that hoard of... what did you call them?"

"...Bimbo fan girls."

"...Right, bimbo fan girls who mobbed me when my costume's head was knocked off."

"...Or that bar fight."

"...Or that nightclub fire that I had to extinguish."

"---Or the coup d'Etat."

"That last one wasn't my fault. I had no idea the army was going to overthrow the government."

"No," Jillian replied. "You didn't. So... what do we do now?"

The Outlander shook his head. "I'm not sure. Saving lives is one thing, but I don't like intervening in mankind's politics. This is your world. You have to solve these kind of problems yourselves."

"I don't think you could classify this as politics as normal. Besides, with all these innocent civilians on the streets someone's bound to get hurt or worse."

"I suppose not." He paused for a moment thinking. "Was this a legally elected government?"

Jillian nodded. "One of the few in South America." The equine nodded thoughtfully, his mouth tightening. As she watched the Outlander raised to his full seven and a half foot height. A gently breeze pulled at his white fur and the remains of the Carnival costume he had been wearing. A shimmering, chrome-silver liquid flowed across his body encasing him in a hard, flexible shell of alien metal.

"Well then," he said placing one cloven hoof on the roof's edge. "Maybe it's time to choose sides." He vanished from the rooftop. Jillian Strathern shook her head, wishing she'd never shown Bob those old comic books, even as the sounds of a very loud and very short firefight cut through the night.

* * * *

The Director sat quietly, watching from his booth in the situation room. The main display screen had been split into several different windows, all of which were receiving real-time satellite feeds. One focused on the Presidential Palace, another on the National Legislature building, both of which were surrounded by tanks.

Turning, the Director focused on the advisor sitting next to him. "Any word yet on the status of their President?"

"Last reports had him staying with friends in Rio to celebrate Carnival. Several tank companies are moving in on his location now."

"How soon before the coup leaders have him under control?"

"We're not certain, Sir. The regimental commander assigned to securing the city reports running into opposition."

The Director frowned. "Opposition? I thought all units loyal to the President had been re-deployed inland."

"They were. By the time they can mobilize, the new Junta should be firmly in control."

"They had better be. They only have eighteen regiments supporting them. If they don't capture the President quickly, the rest of the army will rally around him and we'll be dead in the water." The Director stood and paced back and forth several times. As he did an intercom next to his chair beeped loudly. His advisor reached over and pressed the talk switch.

"Yes?"

"Sir... the Surveillance Officer reports we'll have live satellite pictures from Rio in about thirty seconds. The local commander also reports resistance there is stiffening."

"What resistance?"

"We're not certain... it might be civilian."

"Might be...?"

Another window opened up on the main display screen. The satellite image moved around for a minute before focusing in on a pair of tanks sitting abandoned in the middle of the main thoroughfare. Zooming in, the camera revealed some of the nearby buildings were pockmarked with the telltale signs of a fight. What was most startling was that not only had the treads been knocked off the tanks, but their gun barrels were bent back at a near ninety-degree angle. A couple of abandoned rifles lying nearby showed the same signs of abuse. Seeing this, the Director slumped heavily into his chair.

"SHIT!" he groaned. "Civilians my ass. It's HIM!"

The advisor looked over at his boss. "I thought he never involved himself in this sort of thing."

"He doesn't, unless it affects him directly." The Director dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and tilted his head back in frustration. Sitting up, he reached over to the intercom and punched the button. "Get me the Control Officer." There was a brief crackle of static followed by a deep, baritone voice.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Pull the plug, Donovan. I'm scrubbing the operation. Codeword: Boy Scout!"

There was a momentary pause. "Yes, Sir. I confirm, Boy Scout. All field elements will be withdrawn." The intercom went silent.

"What about Bloodhound and Kestrel?" the advisor asked.

"Send the generals my condolences and tell them to head for Argentina. I'll try to arrange asylum for them, if they can make it to the border." The Director sighed heavily. This was not going to be one of his better debriefings.

* * * *

Dr. Jillian Strathern couldn't believe how happy she felt as she stepped from the bathing chamber and returned to her quarters. Arriving, she practically waltzed over to her new mirror. Bob had purchased it for her in Rio, after the failed coup ended. This would be the first time in months that she had gotten a really good look at herself, as the Kerachaw was not into mirrors, except as needed in an experiment or a piece of equipment.

As she stared at her reflection, Jillian became unsure of what she was seeing. When she had first met the alien known as the Outlander she'd been a veterinary doctor in her mid-thirties. Now the face looking back at her couldn't have been more than twenty-two, if that. Ether love was working a little known miracle on her, or something else was happening.

She stepped back and opened her bathrobe. Looking at herself, she began to feel quite aroused. Her body was definitely rounder, softer and more toned than several months past. Her breasts looked and felt a size or two larger. Wrinkles had disappeared and her stomach was flat as a washboard. Even the color of her hair and eyes seemed more vibrant than before. Jillian squealed in glee, and wrapped the bathrobe tightly about herself before padding down the corridor and into the main hanger/workshop.

The equine looked up from a nearby worktable and nickered good-naturedly. "Let me guess... You found a mouse in your quarters."

"A what?"

"A mouse," he repeated. "There's one in your bedroom, right?"

"What would make you think that?"

"The sound you made."

She shook her head, almost laughing. "Bob... I'm a veterinarian. Why would I scream over a harmless, little mouse?"

"It's a human female tradition, isn't it?"

"Only in the movies," she replied. "Remember what I told you before about stereotypes?"

"You mean phalaxa?"

"Yes! Movies are often filled with phalaxa. You really have to stop taking them so seriously."

"So human females don't scream when they see a mouse."

"No, not all the time."

"Pity," the equine muttered. "And here I thought it was an attempt to open communications with a different species." Jillian stared at him for a few moments before catching the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Then she really did laugh out loud.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked, even as a dozen or so erotic ideas began crowding their way into her mind. She couldn't believe how randy she was feeling just now.

"Well," he smiled, "you could start by telling me why you were making that noise a moment ago."

"I was excited. It seems my body has undergone some changes in the last few months."

"Changes?" Bob asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Improved muscle tone, fewer wrinkles or age lines. It's almost as if someone dipped me in the Fountain of Youth."

"Fountain of... Oh, yes... that would probably be as a result of the nanites."

Jillian eyebrows arched slightly. "What nanites?"

The equine picked up a small tool and carefully began scraping at some corrosion on what looked like a hull plate fitting. "Several months ago, when you were injured and your body had clinically died, I injected you with nanites then immersed you in a nutrient tank. The nanites used those nutrients to repair you at the cellular level. One of the side effects was a slight reversal of the body's normal entropy processes."

"One of the side-effects? Are there others?" The equine nodded.

"You've already discovered some of them. Others include slightly enhanced sensory inputs, sharper mental equity and a kind of euphoria or exuberance. That feeling will last until all the nanites have left your body."

"So how long will these things be floating around inside me?"

"Not much longer," Bob explained. "Remember that medicine I had you taking for a few weeks after your recovery?" Jillian nodded. "Well, that was actually a nutrient compound that kept your nanites fed so they could finish strengthening your cellular structure."

"So when I stopped taking that medicine, the nanites began dying?"

"They're micro-machines, so technically they can't die, but without the nutrient they will shut down, allowing your body to flush them out of your systems."

"Interesting... Is that how your own nanites function?"

"It's not much different," Bob replied, "except in my case I have a series of bio-implants which not only keep mine fed, but replicates them like antibodies when necessary."

Jillian walked over to the Outlander and stood behind his chair. Even when sitting the line of his shoulders rose nearly to her own. He had bathed this morning using an herbal shampoo she had bought him and his scent was wonderfully intoxicating. She felt an urge come over her and she decided to go with it. She loosened her robe and leaned forward, wrapping her arms gently around the Kerachaw's neck and pressing her breasts against his back. He wasn't wearing a shirt so she could feel his soft body fur rubbing against her nipples, which stiffened in appreciation.

Jillian brushed her lips against Bob's ear. "Do you know how much of a turn on talking science is with you?" she whispered

"It is?" he replied.

"Yes," she hissed, "it's very sexy." She began bouncing slowly on the balls of her feet, rubbing her breasts against his back. She felt a slight shiver move up his spine, causing the Kerachaw to take a deep breath. "Wouldn't you like to cuddle some?" she asked. Wouldn't it be nice to find out what our bodies would feel like lying pressed against each other, here in the real world and not as part of a mind meld?"

"We can't," Bob said, disappointment in his voice. "As much as we'd like to we're not physically compatible." He looked sadly at Jillian. "I thought you were happy linking minds and creating our own sexual fantasies? Don't the realistic sensory inputs I create satisfy you?"

"I am happy," she reassured him. "The mind link we share is absolutely wonderful and more than satisfying on every level possible. It's just that I'd like to know what it's really like, fur against flesh in the real world."

"But if we tried mating, I'd just end up seriously hurting you."

Jillian laughed softly. "Silly pony... I think I know a way around that." She took hold of his arm and gently pulled him out of his seat, steering the Kerachaw towards her quarters. "Ever hear of something called sixty-nine?"

"No. Is it anything like that Viagra, drug your people are always advertising?"

She chuckled. "It's not a drug, but if you do it right, the results are the same." Gently pulling at the alien, Jillian led him across the threshold of her quarters and had him sit on her bed.

Striking up a sultry pose, she let her bathrobe slowly slide onto the floor. She then started to run her hands up and down her body, cupping her breasts and squeezing them together even as she pinched her own nipples. Jillian thought about an old, jazz tune that fit perfectly with her mood. She began moving her body in time to music. She felt the soft, whispering touch of another person in her mind and knew that Bob was listening to the melody as well. They both smiled.

Jillian danced her way over to the Kerachaw and gently raked her fingers up and down his torso, each time moving closer to the fastenings on his trousers. She paused, placing one ear to his chest. She could feel the slow, strong and steady beating of his heart.

Bob reached up and stroked her hair with his massive hands, running them up and down her back. The hard tips of his fingers felt like a set of massage stones. His mind gently whispered through hers, sensing those places she most enjoyed feeling his touch. He reached down and tenderly began kneading her rear, running his fingers along, and then beneath her cheeks. His hands gently circled her hindquarters then slipped down even further to stroke the inside of her thighs.

Jillian shuddered and gasped, pulling herself upward along the Kerachaw's body, rubbing herself against his fur until her breasts slid within reach of his mouth. Bob's lips brushed against her nipples. The warmth of his breath caused them to stiffen even more, making them so sensitive that she moaned when he took one of them into his mouth. The equine's tongue rolled around her nipples, first one, then the other.

Instinctively he began suckling on them. Jillian's body shuddered and she felt a strange, new sensation, as if something were being drawn out of her. With a start she suddenly realized he was actually nursing from her. No wonder her breast size had increased. The nanites, which had toned her body, were apparently also causing her to lactate. The sensations were incredible.

For his part, Bob savored the taste of her breast milk, moving back and forth from one teat to another as he gently drank from her. He felt her body shudder and his mind shared in her orgasm. He suckled for a few more moments then moved a hand up to her breast. His fingers gently squeezed as a nipple, producing several drops of milk. He brushed them against her lips, allowing her to taste of herself. Jillian leaned forward and kissed the Kerachaw, delicately placing her lips against his.

They held each other like that for several minutes, their bodies and minds fluttering together then she gently pushed Bob down on the bed, straddled him backwards and undid his trousers. Almost immediately his phallus poked out of his sheath and began growing. From five inches it quickly expanded to nearly eighteen inches in length and two and a half inches in width. Shinny black, it contrasted perfectly against the Kerachaw's white fur. Small bumps dotted its length. It resembled a cross between a normal horse's cock and a human's. Seeing it, she could understand why Bob was concerned with hurting her.

Smiling, Jillian gently began massaging it with her hands, letting her fingertips tenderly stroke its surface. Bob nickered and she felt a shiver run through him. The sensation echoed in her mind. She ran her tongue around its tip then delicately planted a long series of butterfly kisses along its length. She then lay down atop the equine, trapping his phallus between their bodies. With her hands se began to massage Bob's penis at its base, along its sheath and his sack. Pressed against her, she could feel his rod as it gently pulsed in time to his heartbeat.

Slowly his phallus began to grow again, thickening to almost three and a half inches in diameter. She could feel warmth radiating outward from it, warmth, which slowly increased even as she gently rocked her body against it. She knew that Kerachaw did not thrust when they mated with each other, so the sensations Bob was feeling were new and exciting.

Jillian rested across the equine's body so that her mound was within easy reach. Leaning forward slightly, he began to gently kiss and lick at the soft, pink petals he saw there. Again, he gently massaged her rear, drawing his fingers slowly down and along the inside of her thighs. With each stroke her cheek muscles would tighten, then hesitantly relax. He kept his hands moving in a rhythmic pattern. First stroke with his hands then brush with just his fingertips then knead. He repeated this until finally her hindquarters clenched and wouldn't relax.

Bob sent his long tongue plunging deep into her petals, rolling it around, withdrawing it and sucking on her clit. Jillian gasped, drawing in a ragged breath of air and letting it out again in a series of huffing moans. Her body writhed against the Kerachaw's rod as wave after wave of pleasure shot through her. Love's nectar pulsed against his muzzle and he began lapping at it. To him, it tasted like the yolunda fruit of his home world, sweet and musky.

As she came, Jillian reached around and underneath the Outlander, grasping at his stub tail, squeezing at its base. He arched his back in response and his cock began jetting pulse after pulse of thick, golden seed, drenching the two of them. He instinctively wrapped his powerful arms around her pelvis and held on as he convulsed again and again for almost a minute. Within her mind she felt just the smallest part of his orgasm and came herself, once, twice and thrice. She felt as if she was on the brink of blacking out when he finally stopped cuming.

Bob drew in several breaths of air, easing his grip on Jillian. "So... that was a sixty-nine," he panted.

"Actually, I think it was more of a six point nine on the Richter scale."

The Outlander chuckled. "I can see there are definite advantages to 'cuddling.'" Jillian lifted herself and turned to face her lover, smearing thick blobs of cum across their bodies. "And disadvantages," he said as he brushed his seed from one of her breasts.

"That's why it always pays to be prepared," she responded, reaching under the bed and pulling out a couple of towels. Once they had sufficiently wiped themselves off the Kerachaw scooped Jillian up, carried her to the bathing chamber and plopped her, kicking and laughing, into the bath. Sputtering, she resurfaced and playfully splashed water at Bob as he climbed in after her. They washed each other off then leaned back and let the water's warmth soak into their bodies. The tub automatically cleaned, purified and recirculated the water, adding a scent not unlike rose petals to it.

Resting her head against his chest, Jillian glanced around the bathing chamber and

sighed contentedly. True to the promise he'd made months ago, Bob had withdrawn from her mind allowing her the privacy she needed to reflect on their seemingly unusual relationship. Though alien in form, the Kerachaw was as much a human, spiritually and intellectually as anyone she had met. He was both noble and strong, yet possessed of a childlike naivety, at least as far as humans were concerned, that made him vulnerable. She wondered if this was why she was attracted to him. Was she as much his protector as he was the world's?

Jillian looked up at Bob. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and relaxed. She smiled. The future was a blank slate. She didn't know where the path they were on would lead, but deep down she knew it was the right one, for him and for her.

END