Day 6 - Sex Work/Mindbreak - Mass Effect

Rana rolled over in bed lazily and glanced at the clock.

Shit.

***

The lower Wards had been kicked into full-on night cycle for an hour already. Day-only shops had shuttered, the ones that hadn’t were filled with an overflow of people loitering or dozing. People wandered tipsy and drunk, but nobody was sloppy yet. The night shops were little hives of activity, both actual chattering customers as well as various bodies crowded around the warm radiators or cool environmental vents. Talking, wandering, shopping. Rana walked with her head down, dressed in a sleek black dress that made the navy-blue of her skin look a bit lighter. She wasn’t the curviest, but it also hugged her body in some very flattering ways. It was one of the more uncomfortable things she’d ever worn. What felt good on human skin didn’t feel good on Asari skin, which was almost more scale.

All of the good spots were already taken.

Of course, the ones right outside the bars were the first to go. You basically had to show up around the afternoon and then find a way to look like you weren’t loitering. C-Sec didn’t really bug working girls unless asked to, and there were a few bar owners that saw their presence as bad for business. Rana couldn’t understand that, but she also didn’t exist on the bar-owner side of the equation. Bars were great for her business. Especially expensive ones.

Secondary to the bars were the ones right outside credit-chit exchanges. But C-Sec did make at least a show of shooing girls from those places. You could get a bit of good business in if you were lucky, and be off with a client before somebody came along to bug you. Some of the girls who worked there made a practice out of looking over shoulders, slipping hands in pockets. Rana didn’t abide by that. She wasn’t great at the part of the job that only got her in a little trouble, she didn’t need to make things harder for herself.

Tillo was in one of the third-tier spots as Rana walked along. Perched near a noodle stand that was near enough to one of the bars that the drunk and hungry were usually customers. The guy who ran it was a nice old guy. Fairly sympathetic to the working girls so long as you didn’t try to sell to a guy in the middle of a meal. As a Volus, Tillo was also not exactly a hot commodity, but there were always more takers than Rana would have expected.

“Hey, girl,” Rana sidled up next to her.

“Hey,” Tillo didn’t look up, standing with a hand on her hip.

“Could I ask you a huge favor?” Rana finally caved and clasped her hands in front of her.

“You’re not getting my spot,” Tillo responded coldly.

“Have a heart, I’m five hundred credits short on rent,” Rana whined.

“We’ve all got bills to pay,” Tillo waved slightly at a passing human, who gave her a bewildered look. “And I just don’t feel that sorry for you, considering you’ve got that degree sitting in your apartment.”

“Yeah, but the first time you get hired by evil people, you figure it’s bad luck. The second time, you wonder if science is the right field for you. The third time? Nope. Gotta go somewhere you can be your own boss.” Rana reached to put her hands in her pockets and remembered she was wearing the godawful slip. “If I can’t work for the Consort, I’m not risking it.”

“You want to work for the consort, but you also think you need my spot to make rent.” Tillo scoffed.

“Just for tonight!” Rana turned and bent her knees slightly to be more on Tillo’s level. “I’ll make it up to you!”

“You already owe me!” Tillo elbowed Rana’s knee. “If you’re going to beg, go do it on the Presidium.”

“I can’t do that and you know it,” Rana leaned against the wall Tillo was standing in front of, “The only people there who aren’t already getting it from the Consort are Hanar. And they’re not getting it from the Consort because Asari and Hanar aren’t compatible.”

“Well, you might have to suck it up and ‘get’ compatible.” Tillo’s respirator clicked in a way that usually meant a sigh. “You think you’ll be the first girl in the galaxy to give herself a rash trying to pay rent?”

“It’s not one of those rash incompatibilities, we’ve got similar enough amino acids-” Rana started, then realized she didn’t actually know what kind of incompatibility it was. She’d just always been told that Hanar and Asari weren’t compatible.

“Well, assuming it isn’t going to literally kill you, I need you to get the fuck out of my spot,” Tillo’s respirator clicked again. “We’re not going for the same clients. I’m trying to attract freaks.”

***

Rana tried to hang at the fringes of the Presidium. She loitered around just outside the embassies, but most of the people working there would be home for the evening. There were a group of conversing diplomats and she’d settle for a while just at the fringe of their conversation. Not trying to look like she was spying on them, but trying to look like she might be part of the conversation to anybody only glancing at them as they passed.

Politicians were supreme clientele. At least, if you had the sort of high-class escort vibe and credentials that the consort and her underlings could swing around. Clout was nine-tenths of the appearance, and appearance was nine-tenths of the business. Sex factored into it somewhere, but at the point where you had somebody home with their clothes off, you had basically already finished the work part of things. But if you didn’t look like a high-class worker, if there was any sort of stink of desperation on you, the only ones you were likely to attract were the ones who wanted blades involved.

“That dress looks very beautiful on you,” A voice behind Rana spoke.

Rana turned, already grimacing internally. The voice had the reverberating, surreal quality and the flat diplomatic diction of a Hanar. Even before she saw him she knew. It floated in front of her, hung suspended on a mass-effect field. It was mostly the kind of fishscale-pink that all of them were, but Rana’s scientific background involved a slightly higher-than-average understanding of their biology. This one was more reddish than normal, the little clit-like nub of a ‘head’ moving more slowly, almost as if under strain. There was a slight, almost lime-y green to the ridges along its body. It was in heat, or whatever the non-mammal equivalent of estrus was. It wanted to spawn? It desired to fertilize a clutch?

“Thank you so much,” Rana swallowed her pride and ran her hands very briefly along her hips. “I caught your eye, did I?”

“Oh yes,” The Hanar bobbed in place. Either it didn’t know it wasn’t compatible with her, or it was horny enough not to care. “Though this one lacks the-”

“Right, poor choice of words,” Rana extended a hand, “My name’s Rana.”

“Rana,” The way her own name sounded in its pseudo-voice gave her the wrong kind of goosebumps. Like stepping in something unspeakable. “That is a nice name. This one is called Phyus.”

It was being hesitant, ambulating and speaking with a nervous, almost mumbling unease. Either it was trying to overcome knowing better just as much as she was, or it wasn’t sure if it had misread her character. Rana pulled back her hand and rubbed it along her hips again.

“You know, Phyus, this dress... it’s really not much to look at.” Rana looked at him intently. “And it’s terribly uncomfortable. Why don’t I… take it off and show you what I have on underneath?”

“Ah…” His tentacles fidgeted. His ridges got a little greener. “You are… you work for… the consort? This is the first time that one of hers has offered-”

“Oh yes,” Rana lied. “A lot of Asari girls are afraid of working with Hanar.”

“That explains very much,” The Hanar continued to fidget. “Though this one is curious why that is.”

Rana kicked herself internally. She leaned forward and stroked one of its tentacles. She could only hope that the one she’d chosen at random was an erogenous zone.

“Well, it’s because… they’re worried about how much they’ll like it.” Rana bullshitted. “Hanar have this… reputation, you see.”

“Yes?” Phyus’s voice shifted. It was the first time Rana had heard them sound remotely different, though mostly it just sounded like the same person was now slightly out of breath.

“Oh yes,” Rana chewed the inside of her cheek and hoped she wasn’t making an ass of herself. “After all, you have… such large tentacles… and so many…”

“This one supposes that it could be intimidating,” Phyus responded flatly.

“Tell me,” Rana stroked one of the other tentacles. In theory, if she kept it going for long enough, she’d find one that was a sexual organ. “During sex… does a Hanar use… all of them?”

“Contextually…” Phyus started, “This one could try… using all of them…”

“Oh my, Phyus,” Rana stroked a third tentacle. Just keep gambling. You have to win eventually. “You’ve got an absolutely filthy mind, you know that?”

“This one has never been told-”

“I guess all that’s to settle now is payment,” Rana pulled her hands back and ran them from her hips to her breasts. “Before you use… all of these-”

“Is three thousand credits enough?” Phyus blurted with a voice like a megaphone.

“Yes,” Rana blurted back. Then she managed to catch herself. “I mean, it’s a bit light… but you’ve got me so excited with all of these… tentacles.”

***

Rana hadn’t really thought ahead enough to consider what to do with any of the tentacles after the first three.

She slipped out of her dress to reveal. The reveal that she had nothing on underneath caused Phyus to quiver slightly. Sitting back on the hotel bed, Rana spread her legs to let the hanar see her dark blue pussy. Then she reached out and gently took the broad tip of one of his tendrils in her hands cradling it and stroking.

“Is this one of the ones you use during sex?” She tried to sound as sultry as possible, but was a little too genuinely baffled about how to lie in the bed she’d made for herself.

“During intercourse, this one’s body is capable of transforming all six to be used for reproduction.” Phyus sounded out of breath again.

“Sensational,” Rana purred.

The tentacle in her hand seemed to have gotten slimier as she stroked it, Rana held back a wince at the sensation. A Hanar was clammy, likely cold-blooded. She’d need to warm him up for it to not feel completely unsettling. And the slime seemed thick, almost more like honey than lubricant.

Still, Rana stopped stroking it and slid the tip into her mouth. She looked up at Phyus as she suckled the slightly thicker end of his tentacle. All six of his appendages bowed out at the end like a hand at the end of the arm, but only to about two fingers’ thickness instead of a finger and a half. And there weren’t any kinds of suckers or holes or even wrinkles. It sat in her mouth slimy and smooth like bad sushi. The taste was… well, Rana had experienced worse. Elcor sweat was so musky that it tasted like a wet dog smelled. Krogan cum was practically battery acid. This was just kind of salty, deeply strange, and a little bit too viscous.

Phyus fidgeted, his head starting to bob up and down as he floated in front of her. Almost nervously, he reached out with his other tendrils. Two lengths of slightly clammy flesh rubbed againstRana’s hips, one stroked the top of her head, the other two reached out and started to fondle her breasts. She mostly managed to suppress a shudder. The hotel room was warm, and the tendrils weren’t cold, but they were still the temperature of the presidium, so they were freezing by comparison. Her nipples perked up under his slimy groping. His tentacle started to push a little deeper into her mouth, move a little faster. Rana felt it sliding down her throat slowly and had to fight the urge to bite down on it. She tried to suck on it like a straw; it was the only other thing she could think of that was this long and this thin.

Foreplay with Phyus wasn’t bad, per se. His movements were fumbling and nervous (she wondered if it was his first time) but as his body warmed up and the uncanny alien feeling of his touch softened, the things he was able to do with his extra limbs started to show up. Her nipples were hard under his noodly appendages, and they slithered slickly against each other like they were both covered in oil. He was trailing slime along the inside of both thighs, up to her navel and over her hips, stroking her head in a way that was - while not erotic - relaxing and exciting. As he floated closer to her, Rana lay back on the bed and let him hover up over her before settling down on her stomach. Shutting off his suspension field, he couldn’t have been more than twenty or so pounds. Like a particularly large, slimy housecat.

She reached out and started to stroke his ridges the same way he was rubbing her head. She probably had about the same knowledge of Hanar erogenous zones as he did Asari. But he quivered and shifted in a way that made her think she was doing something right. Pulling his tentacle from the top of her head, he dropped it down between her legs and started to rub it against her pussy. The two tentacles on her thighs moved to join it in stroking her sex. Rana shivered. Between his slime and her own growing wetness, lubrication probably wasn’t going to be much of an issue.

“Mmm” She started trying to talk, almost forgetting the tentacle currently pushed past her lips and down what felt a concerning length of her throat. Rana set her hands on his ridges and melded with him.

“If you want to make me feel good, there’s a little nub at the top of my pussy that’s more sensitive.” She spoke into him.

Phyus seemed to quiver happily at being linked and spoken into. Two of his tentacles gently spread her pussy while the third searched for a moment before finding her clit. Rana moaned into his tentacle, arched her back and spread her legs further to try to make it clear that he had found it without him having to ask. As he kept stroking, Rana started to feel her pulse beating in her clit, the bud swelling under his touch along with her lips. His other two tentacles teased around her pussy, stroking and probing but not quite going in.

Fuck incompatibility. If Phyus was anything to go off of, Rana might not go for anything other than Hanar.

She could certainly feel something off with the meld, though. A sort of fuzz and distortion around the edges of some of Phyus’s thoughts. As she pushed at them, she felt her mind slip, pulling somewhere else. Somewhere incredibly distant, but still interlinked. She saw for a moment through some other set of senses, on a planet she didn’t recognize. Miles of deep blue ocean, sun shining through the clouds overhead. Then, the more she lingered, the more she could feel bits of fuzz in this, too. She realized that not every bit of fuzz, but every part of every bit was another Hanar. Millions. Billions maybe. Not a hivemind, but each Hanar connected to every one of their living ancestors as well as every one of their offspring. It expanded close enough to infinitely. If Rana let her mind wander, it may very well get lost. She pulled back.

The sheets under her. The air in the room. The hum of the room’s refrigerators, the tangible senses that she could feel around her that centered her mind as her own. Throughout the galaxy, billions of organisms were experiencing one or two of these identically by law of chance, but hers was the only combination shaped this exact way.

Rana shifted her hips as Phyus pushed the two probing tentacles inside of her, the third still stroking her clit. The feeling was nice. Not an intense or huge penetration, not even a big one, but something about the size of a normal dick. Far less hard, but more flexible, more dexterous. Once it had slid enough inside for the thicker part to be fully in, Rana could feel Phyus’s appendages reaching out, stroking at her insides from a variety of angles simultaneously that an actual penis never could have. One would press up toward her stomach while another pushed as deep as possible. One would push down toward the bed while the other would circle around the entrance only an inch deep. She was practically dripping, and it was hard to tell how much of that was hers.

On a distant planet, a Krogan was trying to barter with supplies Rana had been tipped off he didn’t have.

“Listen, you stupid jellyfish, I’ve got the shipment just over that hill, now you can either-”

She shook herself back into the hotel room with Phyus on top of her. Rana had started to relax, had started to lay back and close her eyes while Phyus did the work. The second she stopped focusing on what she was feeling here and now, for even a second, the fuzz would crowd in. As she melded with a Hanar for longer, the more she started to meld with a couple million Hanar. The fuzz had a sharper edge. It reached. It wasn’t something Phyus could choose to ignore, it was something he had to constantly reaffirm the self again. This one. This one. This one.

It would have been smarter to just break the meld, but Rana had done so during sex before. The feeling was like being edged on an existential level, not just a physical one.

The tentacle that had been stroking her clit joined the other two already stuffed inside of her pussy, meanwhile the pair of tendrils that had been groping her breasts for so long crept between her legs and found her asshole, hesitating only for a moment before both pushing in wihtout resistance. Rana scowled. She had asssumed… she didn’t know what she had assumed.

That wasn’t to say it didn’t feel good. Phyus wormed his thin tentacles up into her gut while the one in her mouth wormed down. Her pussy was being stroked and pushed against and thrusted into in three different ways all at the same time. It was stimulating, right on the edge of overstimulating. Rana could feel herself getting close.

“I’ve already told you, we don’t serve your kind here,” The salarian said angrily on a green, vibrant planet.

“That’s an interesting theory,” The Drell back on the waterworld said. “But we’ll see if it… no, I refuse to make the joke.”

Sheets. Air. Hum. Focus.

Rana wiggled her hips, starting to breathe heavily as she got close. Phyus was quivering, his tentacles beginning to piston more rapidly. She could feel pressure building inside of her like water flowing against a dam. She leaned her head, closed her eyes, her lips parted and-

Sheets. Rana could feel her body shaking, cunt clenching. Her mouth was open and she was making sounds she couldn’t hear around Phyus’s tentacle as he probed the depths of her throat. Elsewhere waves rolled under a stormy sky, tossing a small group of consiousnesses along the chop. Bobbing, happy as can be like a strange pink batch of foam. They spoke deep within each others mind as the wind raged. Two of them wrapped tendril in tendril around each other. Gargling and gurgling, back jerking in arches, legs shaking. Phyus pushing against her clit from the inside.

Air. She was gasping. Phyus wasn’t large enough to restrict her throat but her body had stopped drawing in air. She **** herself to take a long, gurgling inhale. She’d been trying to filter water through her skin. She could feel the stickiness of salt. Some worlds away she was dry, deflating and chafing in the dusty wind. Watching alien suns roll heat over a group of Hanar far out of their way. They huddled, rubbing each other where the grit turned pink flesh raw red.

Hum. The release came first as **** like the pop of a bursting glass bulb, then settled and rolled. Her body felt amazing, her pussy like it was made of light, filled by not stuffed. Stroked from within, her orgasm feeding into Phyus who was nearing his own climax, anticipation feeding back with release. Harmony and dissonance. The roll of the waves was like music. The sang along the sea.

She couldn’t find herself. Every experience drifted into every other. Things like and things unlike but which elicited the same reaction. Her mind wandered while her body drifted somewhere else. Minds pulled her in each direction, bits of fuzz that she slipped between like some profound, pleasurable bit of radiance. In each experience there was an hour of sensory data that her mind read slow, her thoughts halted on her own wave, picking up what they felt at a tenth the speed. The way acidic food bit the tongue made bites feel like meels. Breezes like seasons. Words conversations. Pleasure transcendence.

When she found her way back, Rana couldn’t remember what day it was. A billion Hanar had experienced her as a blip of pleasure for a single second. Her body was still moaning dumbly as her orgasm abated. She settled back into herself uncomfortably. Suddenly small, fragile. It was likely it had all been some kind of an illusion. Her mind failing to grapple with sensations that her body wouldn’t ever naturally feel. But she had felt each second, experienced each visit uniquely and recountably.

“Amazing… amazing… amazing…” She was muttering over and over into Phyus’s mind like she was calling his name.

“This one is close…” Phyus responded aloud, “This one’s eggs are coming… This one has never… released eggs from all six at once…”

“Eggs?”

The tips of all six of his tentacles bulged slightly and a wet gush game forward. She felt his orgasm start as a kind of full-body muscle cramp before it released. And as it released, each tentacle started to spew his offspring. Eggs, no larger than human sperm cells. Millions of them. And as they released they started to light like fireflies at the edge of the fuzz. Growing brighter and more numerous. Voices among the billions new and many, loud and bright. Their meld not yet accustomed to their volume, their experiences dominating. As Phyus came, Rana experienced the echo of his climax like her own, and slipped away again.

When he left some time later, they still sang inside of her. Her eyes glazed, linked to each of them like an Asari was meant to be with her single offspring. Her lips tracing the outlines of conversations so numerous and simultaneous that no one signal was less noise than the other. Wandering within her own body, trying to find her way back.

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