Fiction

Space Babes Are Easy

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 FICTION



Space Babes Are Easy by Linda Jaivin


Back in the saucer . . .

     Baby looked down at Jake’s prone form. She prodded him with her foot.
Though sound asleep, his mouth pursed slightly, as though anticipating a kiss. Underneath heavy lids
and a thick fringe of curly brown lashes, his eyes darted, chasing a dream. The bold arcs of his
eyebrows, pierced on the

left by a silver ring, lay motionless on his high, clear forehead. Baby bent down and touched his
cheeks, then brushed her lips lightly over his neck. A potent Earth boy smell, part
bourbon-and-coke, part sweat, wafted up into her nostrils and set off delicious vibrations in her
antennae. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

     “When you’re finished . . . ” Lati yawned.

     “Oh, sit on my faculae,” Baby retorted, snapping out of her reverie. “And
don’t just stand there. Give us a hand.” Together, Baby, Doll and Lati picked Jake up and carried
him into the sexual experimentation chamber, where they dumped him unceremoniously on the gleaming
laboratory table.

     Doll watched with studied indifference as the other two pulled off Jake’s
boots and socks and tossed them onto the floor. Next, they hoisted him up to a sitting position and
yanked his T-shirt up over his head. As his long arms slid out of the sleeves, they slapped heavily
down on his sides. There was a sharp intake of breath but he didn’t wake up. Around his neck hung a
leather thong upon which were threaded a couple pieces of flattened metal. Pulling this off, Lati
experimentally bit into what was in fact Jake’s house key. “Yum.”

     Baby traced with her finger the tattoo of a scorpion that decorated Jake’s
right shoulder blade. “Looks a bit like one of those guys from Zeta Reticuli,” she observed. “I hope
this doesn’t mean he’s had contact before,” she added, a trace of apprehension in her voice. “I was
hoping we’d get an alien virgin.”

     As they laid him back down, Baby’s eyes roamed over the breadth of his
shoulders, the gentle curves of his long freckled arms, the soft, light down carpeting his forearms
and chest, the lean lines of his torso, and the neat pink mounds of his nipples, one of which
strained erect over a small silver barbell. A wee tuft of brown hair poked up out of the top of his
trousers and curled around the strange little hole in his stomach. Now where would that line of fur
lead to?

     Baby tugged impatiently at his jeans, but couldn’t pull them down past his
slender hips. “Damn,” she cursed.

     Lati, who was wearing 501s herself, shouldered Baby aside and unbuttoned
the fly. Together, they shucked the jeans off Jake’s long legs.

     Baby was rapt. Jake’s smell clung to her nostrils, the touch of his skin
set hers aflame, and the very sight of his handsome face was causing a liquid longing to mist her
ears. (Nufonians had very sensitive ears.) This Earth boy, she was thinking, was truly a
thing divine. Lati, if asked, would have said she was having fun. Then again, she always had fun. As
far as she was

concerned, Jake wasn’t a bad biological sample, but that was about it. Doll, for her part, was
utterly unmoved. She was thinking about drum kits for their band — Pearl or Brady?

     It all boils down to chemistry, really.

     Baby slipped trembling fingers into the waistband of Jake’s red jocks and
eased them off. She gasped. What was this? The other parts of the Earth boy’s body had not contained
so much surprise, for they were but variations on the forms the babes themselves had taken. But this
fat pink plaything resting on its plump pillow and crowned with a coarse burst of hair, this was
something else. She put a tentative finger upon its head. It twitched under her curious touch.

     Lati began to spool out Bind-a-Bean tape. According to the manual that came
with the Abduct-o-matic, Bind-a-Bean was the best method for securing a live abductee. Bind-a-Bean
felt like silk and held like steel. Baby reluctantly stepped aside so that Lati could tape Jake’s
hands and feet to the table.

     “Well, girls, this is it!” Baby exclaimed breathlessly when he lay
spread-eagled and naked before them. She rubbed her hands together. “The moment we’ve been waiting
for.”

     “One of the moments we’ve been waiting for,” Doll corrected. Earth
girls were her weakness. Still sitting on the bench, she picked up a speculum and began
tapping out a beat on a row of carefully labeled beakers and jars. “Personally, I’m hanging out for
the day we become rock stars.”

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Baby, leaning over and sniffing at Jake’s armpit.
“Sweet,” she remarked. Lati walked round to the other end of the table. Scrutinizing Jake’s crusty
toes, she recoiled at the smell. “Eeyuurgh!” She waved a hand in front of her face. “What d’ya
reckon we should do now?”

     “According to the manual,” Doll replied, “you wake them up. Then you get
some long hollow steel needles, point them at the abductee’s head and scare the shit out of
them.”

     “It doesn’t really say that, does it?” Baby protested, shocked and a little
excited, too.

     “Nah, it doesn’t,” Doll admitted. “I got that from the film
Communion.” She was kicking her ankles together. Doc on Doc. A good sound. Solid. “Did you
know that movie was based on a true story?”

     “No way!” cried Lati. “You don’t believe in aliens, do you?”

     They all fell about laughing hysterically. Jake slept on, oblivious.

     “You know,” said Baby, wiping a blue tear of mirth from her eyes, “this is
making it really hard to get into the mood. Oh no! Now look at this.” With one hand resting
possessively on Jake’s thigh, she pointed under the table with the other. “Someone’s in the
mood,” she chuckled.

     Revor, their pet oioi, had insinuated his long narrow snout deep into one
of Jake’s woolly socks and, clutching it to his furry red face with eager claws, was rolling and
tumbling and wriggling ecstatically around the floor, burbling and sniggling and cooing. The sock
may have been old, unwashed, threadbare at the toe and down at the heel, the kind of footwear that
was an embarrassment

to mothers, a disgrace to sheep, an aesthetic and olfactory repellent to normal affection, but to
Revor, it was sex incarnate.

     “Now that’s a sick puppy,” commented Doll.

     Lati was getting antsy. “Pass the strigil.” She indicated a small
instrument near where Doll had resettled herself on the bench. “Something has to be done about these
toes.”

     Baby, meanwhile, turned her attention to Jake’s testicles. “These look like
fun.” She stroked and pulled the dark, cool scrotal skin curiously. “Ohhhh,” groaned Jake, now
semi-conscious. She cupped the balls in one palm. She bounced them up and down. She rocked them back
and forth and pinched them between her fingertips. “I wonder if maybe this sexual experimentation
thing isn’t a bit overrated,” she posited, a trace of disappointment in her voice.

     Then something occurred to her. “Maybe,” Baby wondered, her antennae
trembling at the thought, “it would be more fun if he were awake?” Performing sexual experiments on
an Earthling who was actually conscious — too transgressive for words. She leaned over and,
not too hard but not too gently either, bit Jake’s balls. His eyes flew open.

     “It’s awake now,” Doll noted dryly.

     “Hey!” yelled Jake, trying to raise his head. What the hell was happening
to him? Who the fuck were these, um, girls and what were they doing to his balls?

     “Mind telling me what’s going on?” Jake asked in as normal a tone as he
could muster.

     Baby shrugged. “Sex,” she replied, gripping his balls in her hand. He was
very cute, she thought.

     “Sex,” Jake echoed flatly, attempting to pull an ankle free of its
Bind-a-Bean. No go. Jake was not into bondage. Sure, he’d tied up a few girls with scarves when
they’d asked for it, and had even used handcuffs on one kinky older woman, but he had never let
anyone tie him up. Ever. He did not like feeling vulnerable and powerless. Not one bit. And finding
yourself utterly starkers, bound hand and foot to an examining table under mysterious circs at the
mercy of three very attractive, sexually predatory chicks did tend to inspire feelings of vulnerability
and powerlessness. Not to mention intellectual confusion and spiritual crisis. Christ. It was almost
as bad as being in a relationship. He tried to jerk a hand free. “Ow,” he grumbled.

     “What’s a relationship?” asked Baby curiously, reading his mind. She wasn’t
kidding. Relationships were, if you’ll pardon the expression, an alien concept in the Outer. Alien
civilizations had evolved way, way beyond relationships. Earthling society, which in universal terms
was still dragging its knuckles on the ground, was only just beginning to shed the concept that a
moment’s fuckability did not automatically lead to a lifetime’s compatibility. Aliens had long ago
figured out that it was usually best just to give the night’s mateling breakfast and a kiss and send
it on its way.

     Jake’s jaw dropped. He stared at Baby. He stopped struggling. His eyes
widened and his whole body visibly relaxed. A bright white light filled his vision and formed a
shining halo around her head. It suddenly occurred to him that here standing before him — looming
over him, whatever — was a beautiful, clever, full-on babe who didn’t know the meaning of the
word relationship.
This

was the girl of his dreams. Granted, his dreams had never accounted for antennae or green skin, and
he’d have to have a serious word to her about this b/d scenario, but . . . kyooool.

     “Oh, you know,” he explained, gazing at her with eyes gone soft with
longing, “relationships are when you hang out a lot, you know, for more time than it takes just to
get each other into bed, and pretend to like the same films and music and each other’s friends, and
have really dumb arguments over things like, you know” — the pressure of her hand on his balls was
starting seriously to distract him — “you stealing the covers at night and stuff, which really is
dumb because, if you’re bigger, you need more covers, right?”

     Baby was nodding her head in agreement, but what she was thinking was: Why
would anyone steal the covers at night? Weren’t they just old songs sung by new people? How did you
steal a cover anyway? She was also studying his legs with their soft matting, his lean torso with
its coat-hanger shoulders and the curious geometric manner in which the fur covered his chin.
(Goatees hadn’t yet caught on in the Outer.)

     “The worst thing about relationships,” he continued in a voice choked with
confusion and lust, “is that they inevitably lead to a situation where one person starts talking
love when the other person was still just thinking like, and that turns the
like into fear, and then things get fucked up.” Jake paused. Jesus. He sounded like a
cynical bastard. If the truth be told, Jake had been in one or two relationships where he’d been the
one who started talking love. Not that he was prepared to admit that. Not even to himself.
“Yeah,” he concluded, breathing heavily, “relationships are the pits.”

     God, her hand felt good. He had to call on all his willpower to resist the
temptation to thrust his pelvis into those warm green hands of hers.

     “Relationships sound awful,” Baby commiserated, absent-mindedly
tugging and tickling and squeezing Jake’s cock. She wondered what it would be like to fall in love.
It could be fun. On the other hand, she had the impression that love was, oh, she didn’t know,
suspiciously pop or something. She wasn’t totally ruling it out or anything, but she needed
to know more about it first. Now sex, on the other hand, that was definitely rock n roll.

     Holy Hyades! Now what was happening? This Earthling was full of
surprises.

     “Check this out,” she called to the others excitedly. Before their eyes and
under Baby’s fingers, Jake’s penis was dramatically lengthening, the flesh hardening, the skin
stretching taut and smooth. Jake was breathing fast now, his head twisting from side to side, his
hands and feet struggling against their bonds.

     “This bit . . . ” Lati grabbed the Whole Earthling Catalogue off the
shelf and turned the pages frantically until she located the reference. “The, uh, inseminator,” she
read, “is not of static proportions.” She yanked open a drawer marked “Measuring Implements” and
began rifling impatiently through its contents. “Where the hell . . . this’ll have to do,” she said,
holding up something that an Earthling scientist might have recognized as a micrometer screw gauge
but to Jake looked frighteningly like a miniature vise. Fresh fear churned the rapids of weird
emotion that were surging through him but, instead of counteracting his desire, it only served to
harden it.

     Baby reluctantly relinquished her hold on Jake’s penis so that Lati could
insert it between the micrometer’s anvil and spindle. Lati took a reading. “It’s already thirteen
illion nufokips. And it’s still growing,” she said, impressed.

     Doll had turned her back on them and continued to leaf through the
catalogue until she found the section on females.

     “Twenty-four illion,” Lati announced.

     “You can make a clitoris grow too, you know,” Doll said. “If anyone’s
interested.”

     Baby nodded vaguely. She was interested, sure, but later. She wasn’t
sure whether it was the novel sight of an expanding Earthling inseminator or the appealingly
demented lust in Jake’s eyes or

just her own general excitement at having finally abducted an Earthling after dreaming about it for
abso-fuckin-lutely ages, but she was feeling very turned on.

     “Thirty-five illion . . . Fifty-one illion!” Lati whooped. “But hey, look
at this,” she cried, doing a double-take. “There appears to be a spot of seepage.”

     Indeed. A small pearly drop had oozed up through the glans of Jake’s cock.
All systems were go. The balls were in position, the shuttle was set for launch. Countdown
commenced. Ten. Nine . . .

     On a whim, Lati opened her mouth and bent over.

     Eight.

     “Don’t touch it!” cried Doll, waving the Whole Earthling Catalogue.
“It says here that it’s necessary to build up a tolerance to Earthling bodily fluids over a period
of time. It says here — “

     Seven.

     Baby dived at Lati to shove her aside before she could touch her lips to
Jake’s cock. If anyone was going to do that sort of thing to Earth boy here, she was. He was
her Earth boy, she fumed. Who was the leader here anyway?

     Too late. They were both too late.

     CHICK-A-BOOM!

     It wasn’t entirely clear what had happened, but Lati now lay panting and
disheveled on the floor, and Jake’s countdown was temporarily suspended. Her T-shirt was twisted
around her torso as though she’d dressed in a tornado. A lemon-yellow aura pulsed over the surface
of her skin, heat poured off it in visible waves, and her form oscillated for a few seconds between
Nufonian gray and Earth girl. A smell like that of jonquils filled the room. Her antennae vibrated
and hummed. “Wowie zowie,” she slurred.

     Jake wasn’t feeling quite so robust as a moment ago. In fact, he was
feeling rather disoriented. “Mum,” he whispered. “Mum. I wanna go home.” But Baby grasped Jake’s
flagging cock possessively and under her warm green fingers, Jake’s shuttle was soon ready for
launch once more.

     Lati was still lying motionless on the floor. Doll crouched at her side.
She shook her shoulders and stroked her cheeks. “I bet this wouldn’t have happened if we’d started
with an Earth girl,” Doll grumbled. “Baby, leave it alone for a second and come over here, will you?
I’m not sure that Lati’s all right.”

     Baby reluctantly turned her attention to her misdemeaning mate. “You okay,
Lati?” she asked, secretly hoping she was suffering for her sins. She was out of fuckin
order,
that girl.

     They were both attending to Lati when a bevy of anxious squeals and groans
drew their attention back to Jake.

     “Ow! Oh! Aaaaaaargh!” hollered Jake.


     “For love of Saturn . . . ” Doll exploded with laughter.

     Revor, unnoticed by any of them, had abandoned the sock, shimmied up the
legs of the table, and was now sitting between Jake’s spread legs. He sucked Jake’s erect cock up
his tubular snout. It was a snug fit. As Jake struggled in vain to shake him off, Revor drew on
Jake’s cock with a manic intensity that made his little pop-eyes protrude even further. His
shag-pile fur stood on end and small arcs of electricity rainbowed the spaces between his tensely
splayed toes and fingers. His little tail was wagging so fast that it was a cherry-colored blur.

     Jake was practically weeping by now. With one final shriek, he came in
Revor’s mouth. A huge crackling sound traveled the length of Revor’s little body. Revor flew
backwards into the air with jet propulsion, a small furry meteor that cratered the wall and then
slid down to the floor, a tangle of damp fur and wild eyes.

     Lati picked up her dizzy head. “Rev,” she cried weakly, her shoulders
sinking back to the floor again.

     Revor threw her an unfocused glance. Then the lids snapped shut over his
eyes.

     Baby picked him up and held her hand up to his snout. “Still oxygenating,”
she noted. How was it that Revor and Lati had managed to have all the fun?

     “So that was sex, eh?” remarked Doll, not quite as unimpressed as she liked
to make out. She snuck another glance, this one lingering, at Lati’s prone and peaceful figure.

     “I think there must be more to it than that,” Baby said wistfully. “Still.
Yeah, I reckon that was sex.”

     “But was it rock n roll?” said Doll.

     Jake, feeling like he’d just returned from a very long journey, picked his
head up and looked at them, blinking. Did someone say rock n roll?



From the book ROCK N ROLL BABES FROM OUTER SPACE by Linda Jaivin

Copyright ©1998 Linda
Jaivin
and Nerve.com
Published by arrangement with Broadway Books,
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc., New York, New York
All rights reserved





©1999
Linda Jaivin and Nerve.com