Chapter 3
three
EVEREST
Iwalk next door for my session, and the world looks a little stranger now that I know more about what’s going to happen to me.
Just outside the clinic, I see a line of people waiting by the door, and I wonder for a moment why they’re here.
Are they backup in case one of us chickens out? Or are they so addicted to the blow jobs that they line up and wait all day, hoping to get in?
I see a human security guard near the door and throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Why the line?”
The man doesn’t even flick his gaze sideways. “Addicts.”
I stare at him, but he doesn’t blink. So, apparently, they’re addicted to monster blow jobs.
Got it.
My fingers fumble with the pamphlet as I make my way inside. It says this will take thirty minutes, tops. I think that’s far too long for a blow job, but maybe that’s how long it takes. Maybe the Vyastil get off on edging humans.
Maybe that’s what they wanted when they came here.
To edge us.
Okay, that’s ridiculous, I think with a hidden smile as I move up to the queue behind the counter.
While I wait, I take the place in. It’s an unassuming government building made of brick and concrete. No pictures hang on the walls, and there’s nothing about the place that makes it warm and cozy.
They probably don’t want horny fiends lingering too long.
Though, the long line of people I saw standing outside the building might be a sign that it doesn’t matter. Maybe the blow jobs are that good.
My eyes move to the door on the right side of the room. Behind it is a portal to another realm, a new world.
One I’ve never been to. One I’ve never seen.
Fuck, what does it look like over there? I’ve heard some stories, but I don’t know if any of them are true. The only way we are allowed to go into their world and explore is if we’re invited, which is rare.
The monsters haven’t exactly spent a lot of time bonding with humans. We’re not much more than a cum factory for them. Even the ones who’ve fully integrated into our society don’t hang out with humans much.
I can’t help but wonder what someone actually has to do to gain the attention of a Vyastil.
Or…maybe I don’t want to know.
For now, what matters is what I’m doing at this exact moment. That’s all I’m here for. And my heart kicks up a notch as the person in front of me is escorted behind another set of doors, and it’s my turn.
The human woman behind the desk is cute, her hair brushing her shoulders, her eyeshadow a dark smoky eye which makes her hazel irises pop. Her gaze flicks up to meet mine as she clicks her mouse.
“You here for an appointment?” she asks, and I nod.
“Just got done with orientation.” I present her my paperwork, and she takes it without looking at it, scanning the barcode at the top before shoving it back toward me.
“Sign in over on that tablet,” she points to my right, “and then I’ll get you checked in. Did you read through the appointment instructions you were issued after the orientation?”
I nod. I sure did, and even if I hadn’t, the video explained it all very well. Take off all your clothes, arms are tied to a chair, no touching the Vyastil, no talking unless instructed to.
It’s not rocket science.
“Great, sign in and then have a seat. Kelsea will come get you as soon as she’s done with the client ahead of you.”
I do as she tells me and make my way over to a plastic-covered chair and lower myself into it. The room is too quiet, the anticipation of what’s next too heavy.
I wonder if I’m going to do okay. What if my dick refuses to get hard from nerves? I’ve heard horror stories about the drugs they give to the participants. It’s something humans came up with—like Viagra on steroids, and I’m not really into that.
I stare down at my crotch. Be good, I mentally tell my dick.
It doesn’t respond, and I sigh, sitting back, trying not to think too hard about what’s next.
Ten minutes creep by before my name is called by a woman from the doorway, and I’m so lost in my thoughts, I almost don’t hear it right away. After a second, though, I jump up and offer an apologetic grin as I grab my papers and walk over.
She gives me a small smile and a nod of the head as I follow her silently through the doorway. As I do, I hear an unnatural whoosh from what must be the entrance to the other world.
This is where they come and go, I think. What would happen if I tried to go in but wasn’t invited? Would my body just disintegrate? Would I be nothing more than bones at the end?
Or would I become some political prisoner for going against the rules?
She hands me a plastic bag with a gown in it, bringing my mind back to the present.
“The changing rooms are right over here. The gown ties in the back, and make sure you take off everything underneath. Leave all your stuff in a locker, including your phone. When you’re done, I’ll walk you back.”
I nod and take the bag she handed me over to the dressing rooms, where I change out of my clothes with shaking hands, then make my way back out.
Kelsea is waiting for me, tapping away on her tablet before offering me a small smile. “Your first time here?” She must notice how nervous I am. “I haven’t seen you before.”
“Yeah,” I reply, swallowing heavily. Guess I’m more anxious than I thought I’d be.
“They’re lovely, really. You have nothing to worry about. It should be a quick in and out.”
“They said thirty minutes.”
“That’s not usual, to be honest. We just want to give you the worst-case scenario.” She laughs when I grimace and then shakes her head. “Worst was not a good word. Trust me, we haven’t had any complaints about what happens in those rooms.”
That doesn’t settle my nerves. It just makes my stomach roil. But I don’t tell her any of that. It’s easier to just bob my head as she pats me on the shoulder with a reassuring smile.
Once she seems sure I’m not going to panic and run, or completely fall apart, she leads me further down the hallway to another locked door. There’s a little black box on the side, and she grabs her badge attached to a retractable string and swipes it.
The lock gives a loud beep, and the heavy door clicks open.
“Ready?” she asks.
I swallow, then nod. I’m ready as I’ll ever be.
The moment she swings the door wide, I hear a loud whooshing sound—like massive amounts of water running through a cement tunnel. There’s something in the air, too—a scent I can’t quite explain that clings to the back of my throat.
The closest I can come up with is what it smells like when someone blows out a lit match. For a second, I think my eyes have gone blurry, but I realize it’s not me.
It’s the portal.
I peer forward and see it. It’s hazy and shimmering, like golden water rippling in the air. My brain tells me it’s just an illusion, though I know it’s not. It’s the doorway to their world, and I’m close to it for the very first time.
My fingers itch to reach out and touch it, to see if it’s as soft and gentle as it looks, but I know better.
Two guards on either side with guns in holsters give me looks that tell me I’m not the first person who’s had that thought. And there are others who have probably acted on those impulses without thinking.
I will not be that guy.
“That’s the portal,” she whispers as she leads me quickly past it and down a hallway. I wonder if she’s trying to rush me so I don’t do something foolish.
We walk for a minute more, and as we get deeper down the hallway, I hear it: intense, muffled moans of pleasure. And I’m pretty sure those are human voices, not monsters.
They’re definitely experiencing pleasure, I think to myself. Unadulterated, unrestrained pleasure.
I’m so distracted by the sounds that when she stops walking, I nearly crash into her. I offer her a sheepish smile as I right myself and lean against the wall.
She doesn’t seem fazed. Instead, she reaches for her badge again and swipes it at another small black box next to a room with a gold number six affixed to the wood.
The door’s lock clicks, and she pushes it open to reveal a small space with a single chair in the center. It looks a lot like a doctor’s office exam room with a sink against the wall in the corner, and a framed photo of a meadow on the far wall.
But other than that, apart from faint, melodic music that doesn’t sound human at all, it’s very sterile and impersonal.
“After I leave, you can take your gown off and sit in the chair. It will automatically restrain your ankles and wrists, but don’t worry, as soon as the Vyastil leaves, you’ll be released.”
“Got it.” I hesitate. “What if something goes wrong? What if…” I hesitate to say it aloud. What if they’re listening and will arrest me for, I don’t know, insubordination or something? But the anxiety has turned into fear now. “What if he gets rough or mean or—”
“We’ve never had an incident like that,” she says, soft and patient.
“Right, but—”
She sighs. “Your vitals are being monitored. Any sign of distress or pain outside of normal anxiety will alert us, and we will intervene.”
That’s…something, I guess. I was kind of hoping for a panic button, and I’m not sure how I feel about being monitored while I come, but then again, this isn’t just for pleasure.
It’s going to be clinical no matter what.
“Alright. Thank you.”
She nods her head, satisfied with my answer, and gestures to the chair. “Your Vyastil will be in shortly. If you have any trouble with the gown, push the call button near the door.”
I swallow loudly, and she grins reassuringly.
“I promise you’ll enjoy it. And thank you for your service.”
She gives me a small nudge, and my feet move toward the center of the room as the door snicks shut behind her.
And now I’m left to strip and lower myself into the chair. The plastic cushion is cold beneath me, and I shiver, spreading my legs nervously before shutting them. I’m not entirely sure what position I should be in.
What do they want? What do they prefer? Do they find humans sexy at all? Besides having eyes, noses, ears, and four limbs, there aren’t many similarities between us.