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From: splineduck@hotmail.com (Spline Duck)
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Subject: {ASSM} Give the Lady a Big Hand {Spline Duck} {SciFi, M/F, not much sex}
Date: Fri, 25 Jan 2002 18:10:06 -0500
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Representatives of INTERSEX go on a cultural recording trip. They have
a little indiscretion that reveals something about their hosts. (Just
a bit of sex)

[Previous INTERSEX stories are "Grass" and "In the Darkest Place"]


Give the Lady a Big Hand 

by Spline Duck

US Copyright Registered 1999

Editor's Note: The records of the organization known as INTERSEX
contain many fascinating and original events. As they are edited and
released, we hope to bring more of them to the attention of the
public. INTERSEX is officially the acronym of Interstellar Scientific
Expeditions (but everyone knows that it really stands for Interspecies
Sex; that's what makes their bread and butter. SD

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

"I hope this will be easier than the last one," said 591. "I really
hated that; that was just disgusting! I don't mind being treated as a
sex object, but I don't want to have everything but the object
removed."

I waited to see if he was going to continue the tirade. He hadn't
stopped since we left the last planet. I admit, it was one of the more
unpleasant assignments, but I didn't think it was that awful. But
then, I wasn't the one being dismembered. I gave him a minute and then
said, "You were a beautiful sex object. When all that was left was the
penis burrowing inside of me, I experienced sensations I hadn't
dreamed of."

591 grunted and said, "You! You just think of your own feelings. I was
the one who was reduced to a prick with a brain. And not much of one
at that! How would you . . ."

I kept my mouth shut. Pure male fantasy, and he's bitching. People!
All in all, I think men are more squeamish, but INTERSEX agents don't
usually complain this much; I wondered what it was that so personally
offended him. Oh well, the next assignment looked easy.

I tried to divert him. "Look. The Fenn look like an easy case. They're
highly civilized. They're relatively passive. They don't seem to have
wars. They have separate sexes. They look to be pretty much like
humans. They don't mate very often, and when they do, there's a
special, spiritual ceremony. Piece of cake."

"Their ceremony will probably turn out to be a state banquet with me
being the prize for the main course. I can see it now. They'll just
fatten up the next prize prick for the next state dinner. They'll want
it as big as possible so that it can handle the task all by itself.
When . . ."

I concentrated on landing. I didn't need to listen to it any longer.
The beacons were coming on below, and the tower was broadcasting
instructions about our path. The Fenn sounded like such a calm and
pleasant people; I hoped that 591 would get into the spirit of things
before we went to record the mating ceremony. INTERSEX wouldn't like
for us to have two poor recordings in a row.

The Fenn head of state, the Oour, met us at the landing strip. I
greeted him with a bow. The Fenn seemed slightly birdlike. Small, thin
arms with large hands, their faces kind of pulled out. Their skin
sparkles slightly from many tiny scales. Clearly, these aren't
mammals.

The Oour greeted us with great formality, "I welcome you with all my
heart. Our people are honored that you should find us interesting
enough to visit our planet. We find it difficult to understand what
about our humble lives could draw you to our world."

INTERSEX had already primed the Oour, so this was all formality, and I
had to act like this was all new to both of us. "Thank you for you
soothing words. Your society is the most fascinating that we have ever
encountered. The excitement of your daily lives makes our lives seem
pale by comparison. We look forward to an exciting and educational
interaction."

Formalities completed, we walked toward the reception building. The
Oour said, "We have been preparing for the mating ceremony that you
want to record. We are having our usual problems getting a quorum
together. I, myself, have volunteered to participate. But it is going
to be a day or two more to finish the invitation list."

Wanting to understand the problem, I asked, "Could you explain the
difficulty, please. In our species, matings can take place at any
time. All we require is the simple consent of two beings. Sometimes,
we have more than two, but there are still not time constraints."

"How unseemly!" the Oour replied.

Well, I thought, looks like the surface stuff in this culture is
pretty rigid. We might have to dig around a bit for the real party.
Addressing the Oour again, I asked for some more details, but he
seemed to have become withdrawn.

"Later, in my office, I will describe our rituals. Here, in this
public place, is unsuitable." Then, he stopped again.

In his office, we had a longer conversation. "Our people are
long-lived, and so we breed infrequently. When it happens, groups come
together and walk into the wilderness. In the old days, when we lived
in villages, it was very casual. When it would be time, a few would
walk into the bush. It is there that we evolved and there that we
still go for our mating rituals. They take place out in the
grasslands, out of sight of the city. The participants, usually ten to
fifteen, come together and walk together out of the city."

591 asked, "Is there never any sexual activity here in the city?"

"Unfortunately, a kind of industry has developed in certain parts of
the city. There, unproductive citizens prey on the lonely. You have to
understand that since we have come to live in cities, there is not the
same closeness that existed in the villages. When the urge occurs,
sometimes the circle of friends is too small to support the ritual."

Well, this sounded promising! Despite the often unsocial and often
unsavory aspects, prostitution usually also carries a certain
high-intensity, somewhat risky flavor to it; after all, much of
prostitutes' stock in trade is acting. Their performances have lead to
some of the greatest recordings published by INTERSEX. And in most
cities, those areas weren't too hard to find. If nothing else, we
could do some preliminary work to get set up for our main recording.

The Oour had continued while I was thinking. I picked up his monologue
again with, " . . . and we have arranged for you to accompany us to
our mating ground in about two days from now. I, myself, will be part
of the group, and I will be the leader. You are invited to participate
in any way that you desire.

Bureaucratese is the same everywhere in the universe. It is the truly
universal language. And it is especially great because, even if you
don't understand a word of the language being used, it doesn't matter.
There's almost never any content. So my mind drifted away. I knew we
would get everything we needed from his secretarial staff.

Eventually, the Oour ran out of stuff not to say. We escaped to the
street. "591, I'm starving. Let's go look for a restaurant."

He said, "I asked where to go while we were in the Oour's offices.
There's a couple of places just a few blocks down here. I hope they
serve something we can eat."

Well, it wasn't so bad. The Fenn eat much the same kinds of things we
do, and to judge from the places we ate in, they like similar flavors.

"That was pretty good." 591 said. "The wine is excellent, the meat's
tasty. Everything looks to be going well. The Oour is going to make
sure that we get a good recording. INTERSEX is going to be happy.
Gods, it'll be a nice change after that last project."

I told him, "I have to agree that it looks good so far, but I'd really
like to get in a bit of a practice session with these people. From the
Oour's description, there must be some brothels around somewhere."

591 smirked. He said, "Well, while you were finishing up with the
Oour, I wasn't only checking on food. It seems that this neighborhood
is well known for illicit activities, as well as for its restaurants.
There seem to be several interesting locations just around the corner.
The Oour may not have wanted to talk about it, but it's common
knowledge. The people I asked were free with their information."

"I wonder about this assignment. These people seem pleasant enough,
but there's just no sense of passion. Sure, they walk out into the
bush and have sex, but there seems little deep interest in it. The
Oour's attitude was minor disapproval of the prostitution, but no one
seems to be much more interested than if they were going on a picnic.
I've had friends get more excited about a lunch date. Come on! Let's
go find a good brothel."

We strolled out into the evening and down the street. 591 already knew
what to look for: subtle small signs in the windows advertising help
in finding your family. Talk about your subtle red-light district!
After a few blocks, we saw several likely places on both sides of the
street. 591 took one on one side, and I crossed over to another. It's
one of those times when having a male and a female agent on a team is
an advantage. Sometimes, one or the other can get better answers while
the other may be more deeply involved. Our tiny pocket recorders would
give us a record to help us set up our real, professional session
later.

A Fenn ushered me in politely. We were still having some trouble
distinguishing their genders, so I started to ask a few discreet
questions. Answers came back easily, but I was surprised when the Fenn
started asking questions of her own.

"What's your family name? Is your family far away? . . Do you spend
much of your time traveling? . . . Oh, you're female; do you have any
young? . . . How are your parents? How are your littermates?"

Our conversation went on for an hour. But nothing remotely sexual came
up. Interesting anthropology, but nothing that related to INTERSEX's
mission here. I was just beginning to ask about mating rituals and
such, when she stood up.

Softly, almost under her breath, she said, "This has been such a
delicate, important conversation." She took my hand in both of hers,
shook my hand, and went on, "I hope that you will consider returning.
Good luck in your work here. I hope your children are healthy and
strong." And then I was politely shown out to the street, where I
found 591 standing.

591 was looking around and seemed a bit distracted. Great, I thought.
He had a good session. Now, we'll find out what's up with the ritual.

But 591 was distracted because he was trying to figure out what had
just happened. Expecting great sex (or maybe just good), and more than
a little horny when he went in, he had gotten no sex at all.

"We just talked the whole time! I guess because I was obviously alien,
she was reluctant to get into anything physical. I was sure ready. She
went on and on about her family and my family and my children and
where I was from. She asked about my career. In the end, I could
hardly get a word in edgewise. And then, she just shook my hand and
showed me the door a few minutes ago."

I said, "Must be a bit of xenophobia. Your experience was almost
identical to mine. Looks like we aren't going to get much before the
ceremony. Let's get to the hotel, and get some sleep."

The next morning, we received the message from the Oour confirming
that the ceremony would be held the next day. We got our equipment
through customs and then we needed to check it out. We returned to the
hotel; the lobby had quite a few Fenn milling around, checking in and
out, sitting, talking, just like hotels everywhere. We watched for a
few minutes and went upstairs.

Since INTERSEX recordings are mostly of sex (and tomorrow was no
exception), agents usually check out their equipment by recording a
session of their own and then playing it back to verify the quality of
the recording. 591 and I negotiated about how to do the checkout.

I wanted to replay the elephants mating; I love being that huge,
aggressive male. 591 wanted something much simpler. He just wasn't
into the amount of time and energy (and submission) that playing my
elephant recording would take. We compromised: he would solo to the
elephant tape as background; he would make the recording. I would be
checking the recording as he made it. I'd use a fractional second
delay to make sure that the recording was actually happening. There'd
still be enough elephant in his signal for me to enjoy.

591 was in an easy chair with the recorder next to him. I was standing
facing him, a few feet away wearing the wireless headset monitor. I
fiddled with some controls while 591 adjusted the playback unit. His
pants were already off.

"Well," he said, "I guess I'm ready. I don't feel like doing anything
very intense, so I'll make it a short session." He started to stroke
himself, slowly to start. Through my monitor, I could pick up his
session and also the playback of the elephant recording that he was
playing.

Watching 591 stroke up and down the length of his penis, through the
monitor feeling those sensations just as intensely as if it were my
penis, and from the elephant recording, through 591 and the monitor,
feeling the elephant entering his mate, I was getting pretty hot. The
elephant always gets me going: tons of flesh on top of the female, the
intensity of musth, that huge mobile penis; I love it. I reached down
to put the tip of my trunk in her mouth; she nuzzled and gummed it:
like an arms-length of French kissing, pinching and feeling her tongue
with my trunk. Entering her simultaneously from both ends.

591 was going a bit faster now. Overcome by sensation, I leaned back
against the wall and sank down to a crouch. I slipped my hand into my
pants, rubbing my little clitoris, now small, large and gigantic,
simultaneously. Reaching back with my trunk, I feel and smell my penis
entering her. My excitement builds as I feel foot after foot slipping
first in and then out, in then out. Five feet long and almost half a
foot through, sliding past hot, strong, elephantine muscles.

It didn't take long. I saw 591 start to come, splashing semen on
himself, grunting slightly. That started me. I came, and my head
snapped back hitting the wall. The impact switched the monitor into
high output, causing me to jump into a second, stronger orgasm. The
whole recording system stepped up its strength. Suddenly, the elephant
was all consuming. 591 doubled his efforts. The vision of my clitoris
disappeared. Between my thighs was only the immense pachyderm's organ.
I pressed into the cow.

And a strange thing happened. Where before it was me and 591 and the
elephant, now I felt like I was in a crowd. Ghostly shapes wandered
past, pressing against me. The elephant and 591 were trumpeting. The
cow elephant was having an orgasm, shoving back into me, spurring us
on. I felt like a hoard having an orgasm, a whole herd of huge beasts.
The crowd around me were Fenn and elephants and orgasming humans. I
came again as the cow pressed against me again. I saw 591 coming
again, shouting, and then I fell to the floor, limp.

When we had recovered, I picked myself off the floor. I said, "That
was weird! I hope we didn't broadcast that to the whole block. It got
pretty strong when I hit the high-power button. What was all that
crowd?"

591 said, "Don't know; must have been some overtones from the Fenn
here in the hotel. I think things will be fine. The Fenn probably
don't even come in on the same frequencies as us. And besides, they
wouldn't know that we were the cause. Come on; let go get some
dinner."

As we passed through the lobby, there seemed to be more Fenn than when
we had arrived. Clusters of them were standing around, animatedly
shaking hands, and then going out into the street. Strange, because I
didn't remember there having been so many in the lobby before, and
certainly not all of this greeting and talking. Perhaps there was a
conference of some kind going on. We tried to speak to the desk clerk,
but he seemed quite distracted in an intense conversation with another
Fenn about his cousin, so we went on to eat.

The next morning we met the Oour in front of his office. He said,
"We'll drive to the edge of town, and then we walk with the group to
the selected site. The walk will take an hour or so. Then an hour or
two will suffice for the ritual. You should be back in time for
dinner. It is the custom for the group to walk together to the ritual,
but we usually walk back singly."

A little over an hour later, the dozen of us were at the place
selected. 591 and I busied ourselves setting up the recording
equipment while the Fenn arranged themselves in a tight circle. They
sat quietly, waiting for us to finish. When we indicated that we were
done, the ceremony started. The Oour began: "I am the third of five
children. I was born . . ." And he went on with the catalog for quite
a while. Then the Fenn next to him started: "I am the second of . . ."

I walked around to where 591 was running the recorder. I whispered,
"You know, if this is only going to take an hour or so, all we are
going to get is this catalog. Are you getting anything yet?" He shook
his head and gave a thumbs-down.

I picked up the backup monitor and listened for myself. Nothing! Oh, I
could feel the Fenn, but there was nothing sexual coming from them. I
was picking up more sexual sensations from the worms in the ground.
Why, I was picking up more sex from the grass. I whispered again to
591, "What's wrong? Where's the signal? Are we on the wrong
frequencies?"

591 shook his head. He whispered back, "No! We're right on. There's
just nothing here. They're not having any erotic sensations at all.
Did we get the wrong ceremony? Is this really a mating ritual?" We
both shrugged our confusion. Meanwhile, the ritual continued much the
same, with the fifth Fenn speaking. 591 said, "Maybe it all happens at
the end."

Finally, after about an hour and a half, everyone in the circle had
told a story. At last! Now I figured that the more physical part would
begin, but the Oour simply started to thank everyone for coming. Then
they started around the circle again, this time with a short, simple
thank-you-and- goodbye. I looked at 591 again. He shook his head once
more - nothing. And then they all got up. I looked to 591, but he
shook his head, nothing.

The Fenn were shaking hands, saying goodbye, and some of them were
already leaving. A last look at 591 confirmed that we had nothing, and
we weren't going to get anything. I walked over to him and said,
"Looks like another zero." He nodded; then he turned off the recorder
and started to pack up.

I was watching the last of the Fenn go; only the Oour was left.
Smiling, he turned and came over to me. "I hope you have gotten what
you wanted. It was a very satisfactory ceremony. Thank you for
honoring us by recording it."

I was a bit startled and didn't reply immediately. He stepped toward
me and took my hand in both of his. He started to speak, but he halted
briefly with a perplexed expression. "Oh, you're a female," he said.
His head bowed slightly, and his grip on my hand tightened briefly,
feeling warmer. He let go, turned, and walked away, across the field.

Mind reeling, I looked down at the stringy semen dripping from my
hand. I called across to 591, "We didn't get anything for INTERSEX,
did we?" He shook his head. "Do you happen to have a towel?" I asked.

END.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 
Spline Duck's stories can be found at :
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/duck/www

splineduck@hotmail.com


My thanks to Janey for excellent proofing; I hope I didn't
make too many errors after she did it.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Spline Duck's stories can be found at:
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/duck/www

splineduck@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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