You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet

There are two parts to the story. The first describes a very unusual strip tease in a strange club on a remote planet. The second is an old space pirate's tale of an even stranger sexual ritual on a planet so far away that it is no longer in Terran space.

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WARNING! This warning is possibly not needed for this particular story, but I am including it because it is needed for most of my stories.

If you decide to read other of my stories make sure that you read the disclosures and warnings at the beginning of each story.

All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2017 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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I was sitting in

Just Like Back on Earth

, a rather classy strip-club on Glorion Five, watching a shifter dance and perform a strip tease. Most spacers have never seen a shape shifter, let alone watch one doing a strip tease, but Glorion Five was right at the edge of what was considered safe Terran space. Out this far, the differences between this federation and that empire-- or this species and that species-- become a lot less important. She had tits and a curvy ass and a pussy between her legs just like the girls back on Terra, and that was enough for me.

There was a four-unit cover charge, which is unbelievably expensive unless you are a spacer on a four-cycle pass. I, and five of my shipmates, had scanned in the credits at the door and were doing our best to drink through the rest of our pay before we got back to the ship.

The emcee, a lizard-faced man who called himself Raul had called her Marilyn when she first came up on stage. She was dressed in a long, white dress that was all pleated, like an Admiral's shirt, but rose up to reveal her white panties and thigh-high stockings when she swirled and spun to the music. She took a long time stripping, starting first with the elbow length gloves, then the shoes, then the stockings. Some guys prefer it when women dance in their heels and keep their stockings on even after everything else is bare, but I like the raw, primitive, sexy way a woman dances in her bare feet. There was a smaller pair of panties under the big, white, satin ones, and then a g-string under those. But finally, Marilyn was undulating on stage naked.

When the song ended, something else with a heavy beat began to thump out of the speakers and the emcee returned to the stage. "If you want to see something you will never forget," he said with a leer, "scan in a hundred units."

There was a collective gasp from the audience and he held up his hands in front of himself, shrugged his shoulders, and said in a high-pitched voice, "Oh, I didn't mean that each one of you had to do so... though that would be nice." He turned to look at a light display at the back of the stage that looked like a thrust readout for a turbo-drive and said, "Each of you scan in what you can, and when we reach full thrust, Marilyn will blast off."

I don't know what the other guys did, but I scanned in another three units. There were at least fifty guys in the club and I knew that not everyone would scan in. But if thirty or so of us scanned in three, it would be enough.

I watched the gauge slowly climb until the red and green indicator column reached the top. When it did, the music changed and Marilyn started gyrating to match the new, slower, beat. She also started moaning and calling out, "I need you. I want you. I need your tongue on my twat."

I took that as an invitation to join her on stage, but the loud hiss from the snake-head bouncer when I stood up put me back in my seat. Marilyn evidently could take care of her own needs.

I picked up my drink, and then dropped it again as my eyes pulled back away from her glistening cunt to see her whole body. She was transmorphing. People think of a shifter changing into other beings or species, but they can do more than that. Their bodies aren't like ours. They can... rearrange themselves as needed.

Marilyn's head was dissolving-- melting down into her shoulders. Her body continued to dance. There was just nothing from the shoulders up. Then her eyes appeared just above the top of her twat. They looked around at everyone and stopped to wink at each and every one of us. I was not the only one at the table who was staring back at those blue eyes and muttering, "Well, I'll be damned."

Then her tongue stuck straight down between her legs. At first I thought her pussy lips were just getting longer, but as that column of flesh grew longer and longer I could tell that it was, in fact, a human tongue. It kept growing until it was about a half-meter long, then it started curling and uncurling in time to the music. It was like watching a snake hanging from a branch as it writhed and twisted. After a short while, it curved up and the tip of it touched Marilyn's clit.

"Yes," she panted, though I have no idea where her mouth was. Maybe I didn't want to know. Her pants and moans grew louder and louder as the tongue began sliding and lapping at her swelling pleasure knob. She was no longer moving around on the stage, but was instead slightly bent backwards with her whole body undulating in time to the music while the tongue slid and lapped noisily, also in time to the beat.

After almost five minutes of this, every man in the place was swaying slightly in time with her. She started yipping and yelping and shudder-walked her way over to the pole which she grabbed onto as if to hold herself in place. Then she came. Shifters must be slightly empathic or part mind blasters or whatever, because when she exploded, it was like nothing I had ever felt in my entire life. A wetness between my legs told me I had gone over the top with her. I wasn't going to ask any of the other guys, but I think they also creamed their pants when she popped.

By the time I got my breath back, Marilyn was taking bows. Her head was back in place as she walked naked between the tables toying with the customers and saying coyly, "Now wasn't that worth scanning in a few more units?" She would then take their hand and pass their ID chip over the scanner. It took all my self-control not to empty my account as she held my hand. I gave her two more units, but one of the guys who hadn't had any training against mind-blasters was left broke by the time she passed our table.

After she had made the rounds of all the tables, she returned to the stage and bowed once again. On her final bow, her head again disappeared and her eyes looked out at us from her lower abdomen. The tongue re-appeared and curved up and touched her clit and stayed there. That's when the lights went out on stage. When they came back up, she was gone.

I sat there staring at the empty stage for a while and then I turned to my shipmates and said, quite loudly, "Well, now I've seen everything."

That's when an almost creaking voice from behind me said, "Don't ever say that, sonny. This is a big universe, and you've only seen a small part of it. Regardless of how strange it is today, there's always tomorrow. And let me tell you, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

He coughed slightly and said, "Mind if I join you? I'll pay for your drinks and buy a round or two more if you'll listen to my story."

I was a little suspicious, but the rest of the table yelled out, "Welcome aboard," so he pulled his chair around and slid in next to me.

He was true to his word and scanned in enough to cover our tab and a new round for everyone. I noticed that when he scanned the payment, however, he didn't use an implanted ID, but instead waved a leather-looking square over the globe in the center of the table. I wondered if I was the only one who recognized that square as the skin of some unfortunate who no longer needed the units recorded in his-- or her-- account.

"Yes," he said with a half-smile, "I'm a space pirate." His face then turned harsh and he growled out, "But I ain't never killed a man, or woman, or any type of being that wasn't trying to kill me." The wait-bot arrived with our drinks and he scanned a tip into the dome on the top of the bot's head. For that he used his own chip embedded in his arm.

"The advantage of living outside the law," he began to explain, "is that you are free to ignore the law... and that includes laws about where you can go in this vast universe. I've seen things you wouldn't believe if I told you... though after what you just saw on stage, I think you might be open to believe what I saw many years ago on Xeras Seventeen."

We all looked at him in amazement. Xeras Seventeen was deep in Xerillion territory. We had been at war with the Xerans for over a century. Terrans caught in their territory would be executed on sight.

"It was back before the Xerillion war," he said in response to our stares. Then he continued, "... back before the shifter wars... hell, back even before the shifters came to this sector."

God, I thought, this man must be at least a thousand years old. The best Terran serums could keep you alive for two hundred years. He must have access to better formulae from other worlds.

"Back in those days," he continued, "the planet hadn't been conquered by the Xera. I don't exactly know what its true name was back then. The best my translator could do is 'Herma'."

He frowned across the table at the helmsman and said, "... just Herma... no letters, no numbers, no secondary notation of any sort... just Herma."

He took a sip of his drink. "I was part of the crew on an exploratory freighter. We had a contract with Terran authorities, but it was all secret so if anything happened, they could claim that we were just ordinary pirates." He laughed, "You do that long enough, you end up becoming just ordinary pirates. People forget they sent you out there. Or the people who made solemn promises die off and no one remembers that you are working on contract, so they put a price on your head." He laughed again. "Well, I didn't mean to tell you how I became a pirate. I want to tell you about the rape battles on Herma."

Our eyes were once again wide. "I know that word can cause quite a stir," he said softly, "but that is what they called them. Or, at least, that's what my universal translator said they called them. Another thing you'll find out if you live long enough is that sometimes we just don't have a word that means what the other person is really saying.

"Actually, when we first got there, the translators were useless. They call them universal, but the language on Herma was so strange, even it couldn't make any sense of it. We were able to get across the idea that we had come to trade-- I think. But it is kind of hard to negotiate prices with pointing and gesturing.

"They had some kind of translator themselves, but it couldn't handle standard spacer. I even tried a couple of old Terran languages I knew, but all their box did was chirp and squawk while mine sounded like a duck quacking underwater. I knew that wasn't right. The male I was trying to talk to was getting upset, so he pointed at the female who was wearing their translator and then pointed at me and then pointed outside. I got the idea. He wanted us to go somewhere and make those damn things work.

"I thought it was a female who walked outside with me. I wasn't really sure. They all looked almost the same. Everyone was almost exactly the same size, their bodies were totally smooth and devoid of any hair, and nobody had tits. They were also all dressed exactly the same, too, wearing what looked like a short skirt or kilt with minor variations in pattern and color. The skirts meant I couldn't see their reproductive organs-- if that's where they were-- never assume when you are that deep in space. Anyway, I couldn't tell gender, but I thought she was a woman.

"I thought the one with the translator was a woman because she looked somehow... softer. She had a little bit more fat on her and there was a slight curve to her hips and legs. There were also two little bitty lumps where tits would be on a Terran. They weren't much more than fried eggs, but I assume they would swell when she gave birth.

"Anyway, we went outside back close to my ship where the strange clicks, squeaks, and thumps our translators were making wouldn't bother the men folk, and we started talking at each other. Sometimes those translators can catch on if they hear enough of each other's language. After about an hour of useless gibberish, the Herman pointed at the translator strapped around her neck and the one hanging by a strap in the middle of my chest and then made circular motions with her hands pointing up. Evidently she wanted to swap translators.

"Hell, it don't make no difference who is wearing a universal translator. It could be hangin' on the wall and still operate the same, but I was willing to try anything at that point, so I handed her my translator and strapped hers on my throat. I had to adjust the strap out a bit because I had a bigger neck, but otherwise there was no problem.

"When I next tried to talk to her, what came out of my mouth was a bunch of chirps and squeals that sounded like insects in a forest at night. Evidently it was the right chirps and squeals, because she smiled and chirped back at me. This time, however, as she spoke, a voice came out of the translator saying 'My name is Lana. I understand you. Do you understand me?'

"I yelled 'Great!' and started to walk back toward where the others were waiting, but she grabbed my arm and said, 'Wait!' Then she looked at me with big, sad eyes and said, 'You must help us. Please.'

"My response was a loud and heartfelt, 'Shit!' One thing I learned very early on was to never get involved in the internal politics on a planet. No matter how mean and evil one side was or how good and righteous the other side, it was their problem, not mine.

"She looked at me and asked, 'Is the reference to fecal matter a way of saying 'No' in your language?'

"I laughed and replied, 'No, it is just a cuss word indicating displeasure with what is happening.'

"'Does that mean you will not help us?' she asked, looking slightly scared.

"'No, not absolutely,' I answered, 'but it means I'm probably not going to like it if I do.'

"She smiled slightly and said, 'Our time of mating is drawing near and Kohwee, our leader-- the one you were trying to bribe-- will once again cheat to create new mates and to continue his dominance over our society. I want you to prove that he is cheating.'

"'I wasn't trying to bribe him,' I said defensively. 'I was trying to open trading so we could buy and sell to each other.'

"She laughed. 'On this planet,' she said, 'that begins with a necessary gift. It appears that there is no word in your language for 'bribe.''

"I also laughed and said 'It was close enough. A bribe is a necessary gift that you really don't want to give, but have to so someone will do what you want.'

'Then you do have a word for it,' she replied. 'But it is not a bad thing. Our society is a very honorable society. If it were a bad thing, it would not be allowed.'

"'How is he cheating?' I asked, trying to get to the heart of the matter. 'And why do you think that I can prove it?'

"'Do you know what Rape Combat is?' she asked in return.

"I'd seen things on a planet or two that might be called 'Rape Combat,' but I figured it was best to play dumb and say, 'No.'

"'For you to understand,' she said, 'I must show you my .....' The translator just made a strange buzzing sound, but I got the idea when she lifted the front of her dress.

"My surprised shout of 'Holy Shit!!' was soon followed by a much calmer, 'There appears to be no word in my language for your reproductive organs.' I then immediately asked, 'Are you male or female?'

"Normally when someone shows you their junk, you have a pretty good idea what you're dealing with, but when she lifted her dress, I was staring at a perfectly smooth cunt that looked exactly like you would find on a Terran woman. And above that cunt was a flaccid, three or four inch penis exactly like you would find on a Terran man.

"She smiled at me and answered, 'Yes.' Then she giggled slightly and explained. 'On Herma, we are born neither male nor female. We are both. How we live out our lives depends upon who wins the Rape Combat when we first come of age.'

"'Our whole society,' she continued, 'mates at the same time... or within a few days when the moons are right and the suns are in the proper positions. At that time the young who have come of age must fight to see whether they will live out their lives as a male or a female. Our leader must also take part in the Rape Combats to show that he is still fit to be our leader.'

"'Doesn't that give him the advantage, since he is already a male?' I asked.

"'One is never truly a male,' she replied. 'You are merely not a female. If someone should impregnate you, you become female... just like me.'

"'So two males-- not females-- or whatever, get into the ring, and one of you gets screwed and becomes a female... tits, pussy and all?'

"She giggled. 'The translator chose the most coarse words for your speech,' she said, 'but I understand your question. As soon as the victor's sperm touches the inside of the loser's womb, there are immediate changes to the loser's body. It is very painful... and very obvious. But just sticking your prick into the other's cunt isn't enough. You have to pump them full of cum to trigger the changes and win.'

"She held up her hands and cupped the little bumps on her chest. 'By the time I left the area of combat,' she said, 'These were fully formed. And my body had rounded slightly.' She paused and looked down at the ground. After a short silence she said, 'And my desire was to have children and care for them. At mating time, my body yearns for a male to again impregnate me. That is a very strong yearning, almost overpowering. Some of the females with no permanent mate will walk through the streets wailing their need until a male finally relieves their pain and distress by fucking them senseless.'

"I laughed. 'Now you must be the one using the vulgar words.' I said.

"She gave me a crooked smile and said, 'I thought you would understand those the best.'

"'So how is the Big Kahuna cheating?' I asked.

"'His title is 'the Supreme One,''she answered. 'And he is somehow drugging his opponents.'

"'That should be easy to prove,' I answered. 'Don't they run tests or anything?'

"'We do,' she replied, 'but it must be something that our tests cannot detect. I am sure whatever it was had been somehow mixed into the water. That is why I want you to analyze the water the loser drinks between rounds of combat. When I fought the Supreme One, I was almost able to pin him down in the first round. I would have won because he is older and would wear down sooner, but each successive round it was I who felt weaker and weaker until in the fifth round, he pinned me down and splooched me.'