Pop quiz.

On their home world, brain slugs presumably had some form of recorded media of their own, but in the diaspora, the various hive minds tend to adopt local media and technologies, and the archives shift to reflect the makeup and capabilities of their host species. It makes no sense to maintain a scent-library if your new host species lacks advanced olfactory receptors able to utilize them effectively, for example.
—Anastasia Massimi, Slugnomicon: A Guide To Brain Slug Spirituality (unpublished draft)

The second that they returned home, Jordan handed the condom to Jenny. The two brain slug hosts held hands as Jenny carefully turned the condom inside-out and sucked it clean. Her brain slug—slugs, really, because the budding slug was as long as its "parent" now, and moving around actively—both pulsated eagerly as, presumably, Jordan's slug filled them in on what had happened in the bathroom.

Mel still wasn't sure how to feel about that. Not only because there was now a video recording of his genitalia making the rounds on the internet, but because Ha-Yoon had taken the footage. She was still his boss and could fire him at a whim. He didn't think she would; if anything, she was complicit in that last episode—but he wasn't sure what he would do if she insisted on a repeat performance. Or if she came on to him. Not that Mel thought Ha-Yoon would, but there would be no way to report sexual harassment without admitting his own misconduct on corporate property.

Either way, he would be fired.

But he wasn't fired yet. So that was something.

Once Jordan had shed her clothes, there was dinner and a documentary. Tonight was about solitary bees. Mel had always thought of bees as living in hives, but apparently, there was a great variety of bee lifestyles depending on species. As he swallowed his zinc supplement pill and slurped the last of the ramen broth, he realized that made sense. It was the same way with brain slugs and their companion species. Different ecological niches, even if very similar.

Rachel didn't bother to knock, just opened the door and walked in.

"Okay, I have held off on watching this video ALL DAY. Do you know how cruel it is to make me suffer with the knowledge my boyfriend got sucked off by an alien, and I'm at work and can't jill off to it all afternoon?" Rachel announced.

Mel smiled. Black-and-white striped dress over black leggings today. Jenny and Jordan wrapped her up in a hug and kissed each of her cheeks at once, which made him smile wider. Little gestures of affection. He wondered if he should start kissing his girlfriend more often.

Jenny and Rachel did something with the thumb drive and the smartphone while Mel washed his dishes and set them out to dry. Jordan slid behind him, arms wrapped around his chest as he worked. Nothing sensual, exactly. Just skinship. Mel was surprised he didn't flinch. Hugs weren't exactly common for orphans, and unwanted touching was enough of a real problem that many orphans became somewhat touch-averse. It was a weird dichotomy; needing to be touched, but defensive about it. Yet somehow, when Jordan did it, it just felt right.

They sat on the floor for more sign practice. The four of them ran through the alphabet three times, twice forward and once backwards. Then Jenny did a pop quiz, pointing at magnetic letters on the fridge for Rachel and Mel to sign back. It wasn't the worst way to spend an hour, although Mel felt a little mentally spent at the end. He had never been this emotionally invested in learning something.

A soft knock at the door marked the end of things. Mel opened it, revealing 'stasia, in a black blouse with cut-outs that revealed her shoulders and black jeans washed so many times they had turned grey. She had her book from the altar with her, and a box in a paper bag with handles.

"Am I in time for the watch party?" she asked, black lipstick spread in a smile.

Mel looked at Rachel.

"I sort of invited her," the blonde said.

Mel felt a twinge of apprehension—but then reminded himself that 'stasia had already seen him getting a blowjob—and stepped aside and waved her towards the couch.

"I don't think it'll be much help with your dissertation," Mel joked, as he closed the door.

"Actually, I was hoping you could help with that in a different way," she said.

Mel blinked and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "Um. If I can. How?"

She handed him the book.

"I need a beta reader. Someone to go through it, see if it makes sense. You've had the most experience interacting with brain slugs and their hosts—" Anastasia's lip curled up as she said 'interacting,' as if she wanted to say something else entirely. "—you're the perfect person to see if I've misinterpreted their character."

"Um. Okay, sure," he said, accepting the book. His eyes dropped to the bag. "What's that?"

"Oh, this was a bribe if you said no," the brunette said, now with a definite smirk on her face as she handed him the bag. "Seemed fitting, since my brother put a hole in your shoe."

Mel took the bag and glanced inside. It was a shoebox. Same brand and size as the shoes he was wearing now. Which should definitely fit. He blinked.

"Oh . . . wow. Thank you. You really didn't have to do that," he said.

"But I did. Now, show me this video. **** has been texting me about it all afternoon."

There were too many butts for seats. Jordan, Jenny, and Rachel ended up on the couch; 'stasia took Rachel's chair. Mel sat on the floor in the middle, Jenny's legs dangling over his shoulders. He wasn't sure if that meant anything yet, although he didn't mind feeling the warmth of her legs on him.

Rachel held the remote and clicked through to the files on the thumb drive. Mel wondered, suddenly, if 'stasia had seen Jordan or Jenny's testament videos. It might help her dissertation, but he wasn't sure he wanted to volunteer that without asking his roommates if they were okay with that before suggesting it.

Then the screen filled with Mel's schlong.

"Good grief," Rachel said. "It looks bigger on screen."

"Does it?" Mel said, a little color heating his cheeks. "Might just be the angle."

The angle shifted to show Two-Clicks, hanging upside down in the biowaste kiosk, mandibles pulled back to expose her oral cavity. Rachel and Anastasia, who hadn't seen this, both went very quiet for a while as the camera focused on the latex-clad erection slowly disappear into the K'lur'k's maw.

"That is . . . brave," Rachel said, breaking the silence as on the screen, Mel's balls brushed against Two-Click's pedipalps.

"Or something," 'stasia said. "Weren't you scared?"

"I don't think she's a biter," Mel said. "It's hard to explain, but Two-Clicks was really excited about it. They grew up watching Earth porn and finally got to participate. And, I mean, we've all been there, right? Grew up watching porn and with weird ideas of what sex would be like as adults? And Rachel and Jordan were cool with it, so . . . why not fulfill her fantasy? Nobody was hurt."

"I saw a K'lur'k eat a wooden pool cue once," Anastasia said soberly. "Just used the outer mandibles to feed it into their maw as they crunched it into pulp. Your new friend could have cut off your dick and swallowed it without effort."

"She promised she wouldn't?" Mel said, voice a little weak at the image.

They watched in silence for a while. It wasn't a long video, though Mel had taken his time, slow at first, and then faster as he picked up speed. Jenny slid low on the couch. Mel felt something warm and wet press against his neck, and the toes of her right foot slipped past the collar of his shirt to massage his hairless chest. Jenny's left foot found the zipper of his pants.

Mel gulped and wondered if he should stop this. But he didn't. Instead, he began to shift his head, rubbing his neck against Jenny, even as his hard-on popped free of the zipper, and Jenny caught it between her big toe and index toe.

A drop glistened at the tip of Mel's glans as Jenny slowly stroked his shaft with her toes. Jordan's nostrils flared, and she glanced down. On screen, Mel was extracting himself from Two-Click's mouth. The camera had caught the little exchange between him and Ha-Yoon as the sperm-filled reservoir flopped out.

"Definitely been taking your vitamins," 'stasia noted. Then she glanced over. "And we know you aren't shy."

Mel's face burned in mingled excitement and embarrassment. He could feel the eyes fall on his swollen prick, and he throbbed between Jenny's toes, harder than ever.

"S-sorry," he said. "I can't really help it."

"Oh, none of us are complaining," Rachel assured him with a smile that was half sultry and half nervous. "But now that we've got you in this state, the question is, what are we going to do about it? It would seem to be a waste to have you hard and raring to go and not . . . take advantage."

Mel felt that same peculiar excitement he had when they had set up the impromptu gloryhole. He wasn't sure what was about to happen, but the possibilities excited him.

"Actually, if you wouldn't mind," 'stasia said. "There's something I'd like to see. For my dissertation research. If everyone is willing?"

Once she explained it, it turned out that they were.

Jenny, naked, was on all fours. Mel had pulled off pants and shoes and sort of straddled her, not quite touching her back, hands on his bent knees. Jordan and Rachel had Mel and his balls in hand. They gently squeezed and stroked. Anastasia stood a safe distance away, circling the foursome, recording things with her phone.

"No sharing this one with anyone," she promised. "Just for research."

Rachel seemed as nervous as Mel felt as she ran her thumb and forefinger, in a tight O, over and over Mel's sensitive glans. Jordan's thumb pressed against his taint, sometimes moving up north, which made Mel clench a little. Mel's thighs began to burn as he held the squat, eyes locked on the topic.

The brain worms on Jenny's back.

Anastasia wanted to see if the budding worm would feed independently, or if it was dependent on the "parent" it was being cloned from. Mel wasn't sure of the answer. Apparently, neither was Jordan nor Jenny. Nobody had tried to do that with a human host yet. So it was at once a bonding experience and a legitimate experiment, in a sense.

Although not a scientific one, Mel thought, recalling his high school experiments in chemistry and physics. They had no hypothesis, no formal methodology. Just splatter an obscene Jackson Pollock on Jenny's back and see what happens.

Mel felt the familiar pressure build slowly. He felt the tug of the familiar hands on him. Playing with him. Stimulating him. Little drops of pre-cum already landed along Jenny's spine, and she lay still as a table. The slugs on her neck, however, were very active. Heads up, little sensory tentacles rotating. Mel watched, fascinated. It wasn't sexy in any regular sense, and as he began to pant, he tried to think of breasts, vulvas, thighs, lips. Yet what he saw was the tiny glow of spots on the back of the brain slugs, the patterns identical. Through the emerald-green skin of the top-most one, where he could see Jenny's spine. Fragments of dreams replayed in his mind. He quivered in the sister's hands.

The excitement built and built. Mel's testes tensed in Jordan's grasping hand. Rachel breathlessly tugged faster. His whole body tensed and focused as the sudden release traveled the length of him and erupted from the tip in a blast that traveled too far, too fast, splattering the slugs with jism. The sudden **** on their sensitive epidermis made Jenny squirm, and Rachel tugged down, so that the next rope and the next splattered along her spine. She kept stroking, squeezing now, milking every drop out until a sticky white river ran along Jenny's spine.

The brain slugs went mad. The integrated one couldn't move far, it's head moved back and forth, sucking at any sperm within reach. The other one had more freedom of movement. It was only attached to the other at the very tip of the tail. Mel saw it wriggle, not in stress, but to bring its tiny mouth-parts to bear on every white drop within reach. They all panted, watched in fascination as the tiny white drops and puddles shrank.

But there was more. Sticky puddles along Jenny's spine. The budding slug stretched its dark green body as far as it could—and then, with a silent snap, it was crawling along her spine, body moving like a leech, leaving behind a trail that might have been residual seminal fluid or its own natural slime.

"Oh, wow," Rachel said, as the new brain slug drank and slid forward and drank some more. Mel's prick fell until it touched Jenny's spine. "What do we do now?"