---Artemas’s perspective---

“Guilty!” declares the four armed Tyrannosaurus presiding as Judge “This court finds you GUILTY of being a Human and sentences you to DEATH!”

“No but… I’ll be good!… They’re Humans too, aren’t they!? They aren’t hurting anyone!” I protest, using my shackled hands to gesture at the Humans in the Gallery.

“Look at him trying to save his own skin! Pathetic!!! Doesn’t he realise that we’re allowed to be Human!?” sneer the faceless people, speaking in unison.

“Executioner Vsila! I demand you carry out the sentence at ONCE!” roars the Judge.

“With pleasure, Judge!” says an orange antlered, leather hooded, Centaur woman who’s just appeared at his side, one hand bearing a cruel looking axe, the other sensually rubbing between her front legs.

I’m being forced down onto a chopping block by unseen hands, as I look up at the eerily beautiful woman who looms over me.

Her head is turned sideways, both to allow her to see me better with her right eye and to remove her right antler from the arc of her axe swing.

“Please!” I beg “I’ll do anything! I’ll do anything you want!”

She halts her swing and asks “You promise?”

I nod, pitifully, allowing myself a moment to hope that she might be able to overrule the Judge’s sentence.

Then her eyes burn with gleeful hate as she says “Then… die for me!” and brings down the axe, cutting short my scream.

I wake, drenched in sweat, my heart racing, my blood electric, my breaths fast but far too shallow to let me get the air I need!

My left hand frantically reaches to my left hip… and fumbles on nothing.

Where is my knife?! Where the fuck is my knife!? I’m defenceless!!!

Then, I remember where I am.

I remember Dr Fischer telling me he was recommending that I not be allowed access to sharp objects, for the time being, and that my knife and spear would have to travel separately from me.

He also said that, if he had the power, he would definitely have ordered them to give me back Horme, as this is ‘the kind of situation that comfort animals are made for!’ but that she had to undergo disease screening.

I’m absolutely miserable without her!

The only consolation is that she’s being screened while in stasis… meaning that she won’t be aware that she’s missing me!

I reach for my temporary holo and ask “Holo, what time is it in Sparti, on Earth, right now?”

In answer it displays ‘3:51am’.

I sigh. I could really do with that number being different…! If I call my sister at four in the morning to tell her I had a nightmare she’s going to start regretting her ‘stay as long as you like’ offer!

She won’t… of course she won’t… but that doesn’t make it OK for me to make my problems her problems!

It was a bad dream! I’m a fucking Marine who just survived more than three decades on a planet we named after the goddess of nightmares!

I can deal with it!

“Your tastes have certainly changed since the last time we fucked(!)” mocks a wet, bloody faced woman in the corner of the room “Developed a kink for snuff-play, did you(!?) Want little Miss Nghoedwig to cut your head off(?)”

“Leave him alone!” says an emaciated man with the frame of a bull “He can’t control what he dreams about!”

“Thank you, Cpl Bulut.” I smile.

“I’m more concerned with the things he’s thinking about her while he’s awake!” he adds, causing me to sigh.

“You know she’s an enemy, don’t you?!” declares a small Egyptian woman, covered in gruesome raptor bites.

“False, Djamila .” I answer, curtly “She’s not an enemy, because the War is over!”

Here, a croaky voiced Ilir decides to chip in “No *cough* not an enemy but *cough**cough**cough* she is a woman *cough**cough* half your age! *cough**cough**cough**cough**hack**WHEEZE* You sure you wanna go cradlerobbing *cough* like that?”

“Like what!? I haven’t done anything and I’m not going to!… For people who live inside my head, you guys suck at reading my intentions!”

A pale skinned man covered in ice chimes in here “I would personally recommend going for it! Get as much warmth from her as you can… but I might be biased(!)”

“Just be careful you’re not too rough with her! You know how fragile gardenworlders are!” adds a woman with a 20cm wide hole in her abdomen, from being gored by a six legged ceratopsian.

“Everyone, SHUT UP!” I demand of the entirely empty room “I’m going for a walk, you are none of you to follow me!”

I open the door and am immediately startled into leaping backward more than 2m while adopting a fighting stance.

---Vsila’s perspective---

I’m outside the room of the handsome Human.

I heard him tossing and turning a little while ago, then he started talking to someone.

Even if I wanted to eavesdrop, I couldn’t, as he isn’t wearing a translator.

I’m about to ring the doorbell when, approaching the door I hear “Όλοι, ΣΚΆΣΕ!… Πάω μια βόλτα, κανείς από εσάς δεν θα με ακολουθήσει!”

Then, it opens revealing the chiselled, distinguished face of a Human survivor… which, instantly, contorts in shock, as he leaps backward away from me.

His clear fear of me is a little comical when you realise that, if he had jumped forward instead of back, he could easily have killed me!… Or, at least, it would be comical under… different circumstances.

I bring my hands to my chest and then out toward him, in greeting.

“I just wanted to let you know that…” I start, but he holds up a hand, firmly stopping me.

“Δεν μπορώ να σε καταλάβω… Μια στιγμή.” he says before disappearing into his room.

He returns, a few moments later, holding a small disc in his hand.

He places it against his temple and fumbles, clumsily trying to turn it on.

I extend a hand toward him. He freezes but does not recoil as I bring my finger to his temple.

Activating his translator for him, I get a brief thrill as I watch this strong, stoic man, for a few moments, be reduced to weak-kneed shudders by my touch(!)

“Can you understand me?” he asks, having recovered, clearly not quite trusting the technology yet.

“I can understand you.” I answer.

“What do you want?” he asks, a little rudely.

“I just wanted to let you know your privacy field was down.” I smile.

“My what?” he asks, cocking his eyebrow.

I gesture to the room’s control panel “There. See? Heating dial, lighting dial, humidity dial, door lock, privacy field…”

“Is… is a ‘privacy field’ what it sounds like? As in, that’s a switch that makes the room perfectly soundproof? If that’s possible, why isn’t it the default?”

Wow! I keep forgetting where he’s been all my life!

I’ve never had to explain what a privacy field is to anyone before!

“It makes the room soundproof, yes. I’m not sure why it isn’t the default, I’m afraid. Maybe because it consumes power?… May I come in?” I ask, baring my teeth in a Terran smile.

His brow furrows slightly as he asks “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Princess?”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Well… I’m a deathworlder, I’m a trained killer, I have complex PTSD, I’m psychologically scarred from prolonged isolation and, until a week ago, I thought our species were either still at War or one had wiped out the other… Even if my nonexistent social standing isn’t a problem, I’m probably not the safest person to seclude yourself with!”

I take a step forward “If I’m OK with all of that… then am I invited in?”

His strong featured face blushes slightly as he answers “Fine… come in.”

I smile and follow him inside.

He goes to sit on his bed, clearly expecting that I’ll take the sofa that’s aligned to allow me to face him.

I climb up onto the bed, beside him.

Shifting uneasily, he says “I sort of thought you’d take the couch…”

I smile “Nghoedwiv are more comfortable sitting side by side rather than face on, it let’s us see eachother clearly without needing to turn our heads.”

It’s quite true, what I’ve just told him… I just don’t need to include the fact that choosing to sit here with him was intentionally flirtatious.

He grunts.

“So… Major Leandros… who were you talking to?”

---Artemas’s perspective---

‘Oh, I was just talking to all the dead friends who live in my head about the dream I just had where you were masturbating over executing me… How’s your night going?’

Yeah… right! If I tell her that…! Well, I’m not going to tell her that!

“No one… I was… I was just talking to myself…” I answer, technically not lying… I just don’t have to include what parts of myself!

“Is that right?” smirks the orange antlered woman, irritatingly.

I pull my right leg onto the bed, turning my face and body to face her left eye.

“Hope you don’t mind… it’s more comfortable for us Humans to face who we’re talking to.” I say, pointedly.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“No problem at all.” she smiles graciously.

I appraise her for a few moments before opting for the direct approach “Why have you been flirting with me so aggressively, Vsila?”

“Oh… so you have noticed?… I wasn’t sure.”

“Even after spending twenty years alone it would be impossible to miss how obvious you’re being. Answer the question.” I respond, churlishly.

She sighs and says “Would you believe me if I told you it was simply because I thought you were handsome?”

“I might have done if you hadn’t prefaced it with ‘would you believe me if I told you…’. Try again.”

Another sigh before she says “I was born in the last year of the War, Major. Terran's joining the GU was the most monumental thing that has happened since its formation! I grew up in a galaxy gripped by Terran Fever… it was only a matter of time before I ran into one of your films on the galnet… once I’d seen one, I was ravenous for more and, before I knew it, I was the Nghoedwig royal family’s resident Terraboo and the natural choice to represent us on a goodwill tour… The films I liked the most were ones where the male leads were… older… more… distinguished… Then I came to Terran Space and, to my dismay, I found that all the men were fresh faced boys! It was impossible for me to tell the actual distinguished gentlemen from the boys who were play acting!”

“So… in summary, you fancy me because you saw my wrinkled face before I got regen, so you know I’m old?” I query.

“No, not just the wrinkles!” she protests “The thick beard you had, the dignified, stoic bearing, the strong, masculine face… the grey hair…” she extends an (uncannily almost Human) hand to the top of my head.

I catch her wrist before she makes contact.

“It seems, Princess, as if you need to be enlightened as to whose room exactly you just chose to enter… exactly whose bed you just chose to sit down on.” I say, bitterly “I am not some kindly, distinguished, older gentleman… I’m not someone who’s going to throw his jacket over a puddle for you, I’m not someone who’ll playfully smack your rump as you walk away from me… I am a Wartime Marine… and that makes me a killer!… A monster!… The War was not noble, it was not romantic, I wasn’t a hero… I was a brutal instrument of death… Honestly, I have no idea how many gardenworlders I killed… I can’t even say for certain whether I ever killed any of your species because, if so, it will have taken me a second…” I viciously push my hand out to the side to mime fatally slamming a gardenworlder’s skull into a wall, in demonstration “…out of a minute long walk down a hallway where I killed dozens and I’ll have tried my hardest to disassociate from it! I went straight from there to a hellish planet where, for all I knew, I may have been one of the last seven Terrans alive… then six… then five, four, three, two… and then… a third of my life spent about as alone as it’s possible to be! Not just knowing that I was the only Terran on the planet but looking out at a galaxy that, for all I knew, may have contained not a single other survivor! Not knowing there was even a society for me to return to! My species is EXTREMELY social, Princess! That kind of isolation actively damages us! That kind of isolation is torture for us! You asked me who I was talking to? The truth is I was talking to the last six friends I had before being alone for two decades… and they were talking back! I knew they weren’t actually there… but I still see them… still hear them! This is what isolation does to a person! You are alone with a madman who has killed more people than he’s even been able to keep count of! THIS IS WHERE YOU RUN AWAY, PRINCESS! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!”

---Vsila’s perspective---

I gently pull my wrist from the grip of the wounded survivor and tenderly touch my palm to his cheek, both of which he allows.

“If isolation is such torture for your species, Major… why are you pushing me away?… Is it that you just don’t want a gardenworlder?”

Seeming almost involuntary, he closes his eyes and leans into my palm, “No… that’s not it… you are… beautiful and any man would be lucky to be chosen by you the way you’ve chosen me… you could certainly do better than this broken down old piece of damaged goods!”

“Then why?”

He sighs quietly “You… terrify me… for a dozen different reasons!… I’m worried that I’ll hurt you, that’s definitely part of it… but… also… I’m apprehensive… I’m suspicious that, if I accept your advances, the demon, fate, god or whatever it is that has spent thirty three years punishing me for the things I did during the War… well… it’ll decide I’m done being tantalised!… It’s done letting me think the punishment’s over!… I’ll either be sent back or… sent somewhere worse!… I’m worried that you’ll be the straw that broke the camel’s back!”

“And you think… if you don’t accept my advances, this retributive devil will be satisfied to just end your punishment? Let you go?”

He shakes his head “I never said it was a rational fear! I know I’m almost certainly not actually being tantalised… I know that, if I were, the punisher would be extremely unlikely to just let me off because I never reached for that final forbidden fruit… Nonetheless, I’m scared!”

I smile, kindly “You… you’ve had a harder life than most… Artemas… a harder life than almost anyone! The fact that you’re still alive… the fact that you’re still coherent… these stand testament to your strength… The fact that you don’t seem to resent gardenworlders for the part we played in putting you through this torture… the fact that you feel guilt for the things you did in the midst of a War in defence of your species’ existence… the fact that you are at all concerned with hurting me… these stand testament to the depth of your compassion… I promise you… what happened to you was not a punishment… What happened to you was a tragedy… an injustice that you did not deserve… you are not a monster! And… if you’ll let me… I want to show you that that’s at least not how I see you…”

The strong featured man looks at me meditatively as I see the last of his hesitation wash away.

“Fine…” he says, finally “…show me.”

Excitedly, I shift to face myself towards him, my back legs swivelling my body around the fulcrum of my front.

I focus the narrow overlap of my visual fields, where I have three dimensional vision, on his face.

I drink in every detail; his strong chin, his square jaw, his tan skin, his rich golden eyes, the silver streaks in his long black hair, even the dark circles under his eyes indicating his exhaustion… I want to remember this moment, forever!

I put my hands on him, one at his hip and the other at the back of his neck. I feel the solidity of his body… bones like iron… flesh like stone!

My stomachs swoop as I pull myself into a deep, passionate kiss with the handsome man.

---Artemas’s perspective---

Rice pudding…

She tastes of rice pudding.

I haven’t eaten rice pudding since I was a child and, yet, kissing this alien herbivore has instantly transported me back to the bank of the Evrotas, in the Summer of 2664, eating my mother’s rice pudding.

Her long black tongue probes my mouth, spreading the nostalgic taste wherever it goes.

I think for a moment that it’s quite cute how delicate she’s being on me, as if she thinks my fragility is physical as well as mental, then I hear her make a tiny grunt of effort and realise that she’s actually running her hands over me as hard as she can!

If I hadn’t realised that, I probably wouldn’t be so gentle when I finally put my hands on her back.

I apply no pressure at all while I run my hands down her spine, to the point where it turns 90°, and then between the shoulder blades of her front legs.

The fact that she’s not only not Human but not even Terran either is never far from my mind as we kiss. It barely matters though… this is the first time I’ve touched someone like this in decades!

Her age, her fragility, her status as a member of a former enemy species or any of the other objections my mind chose to give me by putting them into the mouths of my late friends, none of these matter right now!

She brings her hands to the hem of my top and begins lifting it up.

She breaks from the kiss to pull it over my head.

Once I’m shirtless she looks down and says “This is what you call ‘broken down’?!”

“I have just been through regen.” I answer.

“Regen doesn’t add muscle definition! This is all you!” she says, tracing a middle finger down the central cleft of my abdominals.

I chuckle “If you think this is impressive, you should have seen me in my prime! I was 25kg heavier and muscle was most of the difference! This body is the result of a third of a century of malnutrition!”

She gives a pant as she sensually says “Incredible!” though I’m not sure whether it’s the muscle I’m telling her about or the reference to ‘my prime’ (with the implication that I’m past it, now) that’s eliciting that reaction!

She reaches to her shoulder and unfastens the sash that serves as her upperwear.

She has breasts… I mean… I knew she had breasts, given that her torso wrap doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but… compared to the rest of her… her breasts look almost Human.

Sure, there’s short, brown, bristly fur creeping in at the sides, sure she has bright orange skin but, other than that, these could be Human tits on a Human chest!

She smiles, clearly appreciating the way I must have been gawking and thrusts her chest towards me, invitingly.

I reach out with my left hand and cup her right breast… it’s like placing my hand on a jelly mould of a Human one; soft and jiggly but, at the same time, so insubstantial that I feel as if closing my fingers would be all it would take to tear through her flesh!

My breath hitches and my heart races as I begin to panic at the fragility of the one I’m touching.

I quickly pull my hand away.

She notices… because of course she does!

“What’s wrong, Artemas? You don’t like it?”

I shake my head “That’s not it… you’re just… you’re so fragile… I don’t know if I can…”

She puts her hand on my bare chest and says “Alright, we can spare the pelvis shattering sex against the wall for another night(!)… How about, tonight, you lie back and let me take care of you?”

I search her, rectangular pupiled, eyes for any hint of hesitation but find none…

“Alright… take care of me…” I answer, scooting up the ridiculously large bed to put my head at the pillow.

She follows and brings her hands to my trousers, straining to unfasten them.

“Such sturdy material!” she exclaims, pulling off my trousers (or, rather, having her hands on my trousers while I pull them off!)

“It does need to stand up to a deathworlder wearing it.” I point out as my erect cock springs up from its confinement.

She was clearly not listening to me, transfixed, instead, on my member.

She kneels, with her front legs between mine, and bends forward to wrap her long bluish-black tongue around my shaft.

I gasp and grunt involuntarily as this woman’s lingual dexterity melts me into a puddle.

I reach out to gently grasp her enormous orange antlers, extremely careful not to snap or crush them but secure that she would at least survive if I did.

It’s still a little uncanny, the way she turns her head sideways to look at me, but as she works to pleasure me it ceases to matter at all!

After a few minutes of her stimulation, I announce “I’m cumming! I’m gonna cum!!!” and she closes her eyes as I burst and cover her face in my hot, sticky, white seed.

Uncoiling her tongue from me, making me moan from my refractory sensitivity, she brings a finger to her face, uses it to remove some of the mess I just made and sticks it in her mouth, sucking it clean.

There’s a loud *pop* as she pulls her finger out and gives a contented sigh.

She cocks her head slightly and asks “More? Would you like to find out what royal pussy feels like tonight?”

I nod “Definitely! Just a few minutes for me to recover…”

She smiles and answers “Take as long as you need…” before standing, turning around and planting her rump on my chest “…I’ll just leave this here, let me know when you’re ready.”

She weighs next to nothing!

Her cervine legs are slender and shapely but I’m more interested in what’s between them!

I stroke my hands over her buttocks before grasping her short tail and pulling it upwards to reveal a puckered arsehole and a pair of dripping lips!

Of course, it makes sense that her pussy wouldn’t be between her front legs (where she wears a cloth cover).

The fact that that was where she was rubbing, to pleasure herself in my dream, was just my mind doing it’s best to reconcile her nonHumanness!

That does, of course, mean that she just walks around with her pussy and arsehole exposed!

I know modesty standards won’t be the same in her species, but still!

I wonder how Nghoedwiv masturbate, since they can’t reach their own genitals… would it be a case of mounting a dildo somewhere and then backing into it?

Questions for later!

I press my thumb up to her arsehole and hear her moan wonderfully in response. I push inside and begin stroking her lips with my other hand.

It’s a little unreal that she’s able to straddle me, with one set of legs, while standing fully upright, with her others, meaning her lovely breasts are several metres out of reach.

I make do with teasing her underside, instead.

The way she moans… her beautiful back, the hint of breasts I’m able to see, around her torso, her shapely rump, the pussy that’s soaking wet for me… It’s a little early and I’m still a little uncomfortable from the first time but, I decide, I can’t wait any longer.

---Vsila’s perspective---

I feel the pair of powerful hands that were just removed from my nethers clamp my hips and, effortlessly, lift them up and push them forward.

I step forwards with my front legs to avoid overbalancing.

Then I feel it… it’s the same rock hard flesh as the rest of him but there’s no mistaking what’s pressed against my lips as a finger!

He lowers my hips slowly, letting me feel every inch as he slides inside!

“What…*huff*… happ…*huff*…ened…*huff*… to…*huff*… lett…*huff*…ing…*huff*… me…*huff*… take…*huff*… care…*huff*… of…*huff*… you(?)” I ask, wryly, turning my head to see the handsome Human currently using my hindquarters as a masturbatory aid(!)

“Too horny…*huff*… let me know if…*huff*… I’m hurting you!” he answers, simply.

Well… I was definitely looking forward to being the one to crack that stoic demeanour again but… this is nice too!

Lifting my entire back half up and down, to fuck me, he leaves me absolutely no room to dictate the pace, unless I want to call things off completely!

Minutes later and, somehow, he’s still going, still has the stamina to fuck me like this!

All I’ve been doing is half standing, taking it, and I’m already so exausted that, feeling an early temblor of pleasure, my front legs collapse and I plant my hands into the mattress.

I’m down on all six and he’s still fucking me!

I really should have done pussy first and then tongue afterward!

After what feels like an age he thrusts deep inside me and doesn't pull back out! My eyes roll forward in pleasure (briefly simulating Human visual field) as he brings me to orgasm.

---later---

I’m lying on top of him, straddling his crotch with my front legs and burying his legs under my hindtrunk, enjoying the feeling of his feet against my thighs.

My antlers keep me from turning my head, without lifting it first, but, given that the view I currently have is a super-closeup of the postcoital face belonging to the most handsome man in existence, why would I want to?

“Can you keep a secret?” I smile.

“Depends what the secret is(!)” he smiles without opening his eyes.

“My uncle is retiring as Nghoedwig’s envoy to the UTC… My father has offered the job to me… After I take care of some business on Thrulj, I’m heading to Earth… I should be right behind you!”

His eyes widen and, horrified, he says “You’re married!?”

I puff mirthfully “No, I’m not… not yet, anyway… My father took exception to the stipulation that envoys be paired and got the UTC to grant us an exception…”

“Oh… right… I’m sorry for doubting you…” he says, apologetically.

“So… a few weeks after you get back to Earth, we’ll be on the same planet… Would you like to… see eachother again?”

He looks incredulously at me for a few moments before saying “You’re serious?… You really want to get into a relationship with a man like me?”

I bare my teeth at him and answer “I really do… In fact, there’s no one I’d rather!”

I feel him squeeze just a little tighter as he answers “Alright then… let’s… let’s do it.”

My heart and stomachs all do backflips but, outwardly, I simply say “Alright, we can exchange holocoms in the morning… over breakfast?”

He nods “I’d love to have breakfast with you. I haven’t eaten pancakes in decades!”