Chapter 4
four
EVEREST
“How was it?”
Zane’s been silently assessing me since I arrived home yesterday afternoon, and I told myself I wouldn’t give him any details until he asked for them. I’m a good friend like that.
I know he’s curious, but this time, I’m not spilling any of the tea voluntarily. And half the tea I’m technically not allowed to spill at all.
He finally cracks as I’m pouring my coffee the next morning.
“You really want to know?” I ask, and he nods, though he looks a little pale.
“Yeah, tell me.”
I hesitate, making sure he means it, but his face seems determined, so I shrug. “Well, the guy was rude, but he got me off twice.”
Zane’s mouth falls open, and his eyes widen. “Twice? Shit. Did it feel good?”
I almost groan at the memory. “Yeah. It did. And I know it wasn’t just him. There was a line of people waiting to volunteer outside of their scheduled time. The security guard called them addicts.”
“Holy shit,” he breathes out.
I shrug. “I guess all their blow jobs are that good.”
Zane’s ears turn pink, and he mutters something under his breath. But I won’t ask him to repeat himself. It’s clear he’s still struggling.
“Anyway, if you decide against filing your extension, I don’t think you’ll mind it.”
He scoffs and sets his coffee mug down with a bang. “I think I’ll mind it very much. I’m never doing that shit. Never. I’m going to find some woman—I don’t even care who she is—and get married before my extension is up.”
I know he’s lying. Zane likes sex, but he’s also the world’s biggest commitment-phobe. There’s not a chance in hell he’s more scared of blow jobs than marriage.
But it’s not worth picking a fight over.
I shrug and grab a protein bar from the cabinet. “Whatever works for you, man.”
And I mean that. Everyone has to do what they’re comfortable with.
And honestly, I’m comfortable going again. And again. And again.
Just…not today. I have work, and the monster who wanted me to come in again today will have to wait.
He deserves a little blue balls—or blue whatever they have—for the way he was rude to my dick. No way am I bending over backward for some asshole who wants to make me feel inadequate. Even if I think he liked the way I tasted, he was rude about it.
If he wants another blow job today, he can find someone else.
I gulp down the rest of my coffee, then stretch my back. “Gonna go shower and head to work. You gonna come see me?”
“Yeah, I’ll stop by for lunch. Best friend discount!” he calls after me.
“Freeloader,” I shout back as I grab my uniform and step into the bathroom.
The lights flicker above me, reminding me of the room yesterday as a pierced tongue moved up and down, vibrating against my dick.
I push that thought away and scrub myself clean. I don’t have time to get off. And I’m not getting off on thoughts of the monster.
So, I hop out—still hard—dry off, and pull on my red and yellow uniform. I snag my hat off the hook by the door, then head out without saying goodbye to Zane.
The walk to the mall isn’t long, thank god. It’s just enough time to shove memories of the monster and his talented mouth out of my head before I see the parking lot come into view.
By the time I’m walking in, I feel like myself again.
Mostly.
The Frankly Delicious kiosk is in the middle of the mall, right in front of a clothing store and a candle shop. My coworker, Sai, is waiting for me, wearing the same ugly-ass uniform as I am.
His has a stain on the front, of course, and his hat is a little more tattered. He also looks hungover as shit.
“Rough day?” I ask as we start our opening work.
He snorts as he fills the cup rack, and I turn on the hot dog rotator. “Yeah. I got wasted last night—might have gone a little hard on the tequila.”
I nudge him when he sighs. “Well, you made it here, man. That’s commendable.”
“It’s a fucking hot dog stand in the middle of a dying mall,” he says like I need reminding. “But I need the money, so I can’t complain.”
“I mean, it’s not a retirement plan, but it pays the bills.” It’s something I’ve been telling myself for a while now, though I know I need to start planning something more with my life.
But it’s not like I have a mind for college, and football didn’t take me pro. I don’t know what else I’m good at except, apparently, producing cum that Vyastil commanders are thirsty for.
But I don’t think that’s a lucrative career.
“I think I need a side gig,” he says as he starts a batch of buns in the warmer. “I was thinking of maybe selling my cum for money.”
My eyes widen, and I nearly drop a fresh pack of frozen hot dogs. “Are you serious? How much does cum go for?”
“Fifty a pop. I mean, that’s not bad, right?”
My eyes are wide. “No, but…how does that even work? Do you, like, put it in a bag and deliver it somewhere? Is this actually legit?”
He pulls out a rumpled pamphlet from his pocket and holds it up to me. “It’s totally legit. There’s a service you can sign up for. Like a cum factory? It’s for monsters who need more than their weekly stipend, or whatever they call it.”
He says this a little too loudly, and someone turns to look at us as they walk by. I flip them off for good measure, then turn back to Sai, who’s holding in a laugh.
“Anyway, I guess you go get pumped and dumped there. Like a dairy farm.”
“Shit. And it’s fifty a piece?”
“Yeah. I mean, how bad can it be? We already do it for free in service of our country, or whatever, but if we can get paid for it…”
“Sounds too good to be true.”
“Sounds like the monsters are cum sluts who need more than the men will provide for free,” Sai counters.
I set a ketchup and mustard bottle out on the little stand and think back to the Vyastil who demanded I come back today to service him.
Or to let him service me.
“What’s that face for?”
I shake my head and snap a picture of that pamphlet. Technically, I’m not supposed to tell him what went on in my session. “It’s nothing. Thanks for the info. I have some bills coming up, and this could help.”
“Well, if I go, I’ll let you know how it is and vice versa, yeah? Keep me updated if you make it before I do?”
“Sure will.”
I fall quiet as the first customer appears and Sai takes their order, then I get to work on making it. Fifty bucks for a pump and dump seems a lot better than this, I think as I dump mustard and onions on the hot dog.
I stare down at it, then think about the Vyastil’s desperation for me. If he wants it, how many more would line up? And how much could I produce?
It wouldn’t be a way to make a living, but it would take some of the stress off.
I just can’t help but wonder what the monster who wanted me would think if he knew what I was considering.
The sun disappears behind the clouds as my shift nears the end. Zane stopped by during lunch to get his free hot dog, and we chatted a little while he scarfed it down. But then he had to go to work—a real job, he always tells me—which is just two blocks away.
I sent Sai home after the dinner rush, since he was almost sideways on his feet.
I don’t mind working alone. The lunch and dinner rush is done, leaving me with nothing to do now but wait for the clock to strike eight. It’s slow right now, which allows me to sit and enjoy the lights of the city through the massive mall windows.
Just before closing, I get a text from a woman I went on a date with last week, and then one from my aunt.
That one I was expecting. I know she’s been up in arms with anger over the fact that I had no plans to file an extension or ask for a permanent exception. But I’m in no mood to talk to her.
Or the woman from the date. It had been fine—we’d made out a little after dinner, but had called it quits early.
It’d been nothing to write home about, and now that I’ve had a monster on my dick, it’s hard to give a shit about going out with her again.
I should probably message her and let her know, but frankly, I’m not in the mood.
As the clock ticks closer to eight, I lean against the counter and pull up the website with information on the Vyastil. I’d been too tired to look last night, but now that my account has opened up and I have access to all the information, my curiosity is overwhelming.
The information about Erethar is about the same as what most humans have been given. It’s a mineral-rich world, and its economy revolves around mining the precious stones that lie beneath the surface.
It has large, looming mountains, deep subterranean oceans, and four moons. There’s artwork depicted of it, but no actual photographs, which I hate.
Clicking on the next article, it’s once again similar information on their society. They’re mostly on a barter system with their people. Their nature seems very give-and-take, which makes sense with the trade agreements they entered into when they got here.
It’s the need for cum that never quite made sense.
The article calls it a “reciprocal, ritual act of bonding and restoration,” which makes me scoff.
There was nothing reciprocal about it. The Vyastil took what he wanted from me and then asked for more. I got nothing out of it except an orgasm, which was great, but I could get that from humans, too.
Maybe not the vibrating tongue, but I know plenty of humans who have theirs pierced.
So, what did I really get in return?
The website is fucking bullshit, I decide. There’s no new information. It’s all the same government crap they’ve been telling us since the portals appeared.
They need our cum. And obviously, they enjoy it. But why? What’s it for?
I scroll a bit longer, but there aren’t any answers to my questions.
So, I shut off my phone and stuff it in my pocket the second I see it’s almost eight. I have far more questions about this monster race than answers anyone seems willing to give.
I wonder if I see the commander again, if he’ll tell me anything. Probably not, but it might be worth a try. After all, they like things to be reciprocal, don’t they?
Maybe I can leverage that.
I work on shutting down the hot dog stand, and as I make my way home, I think about the monster between my legs, the hum that he emitted when he had his tongue wrapped around my cock.
And I wonder who will walk through the door when I arrive at the New Beginnings Clinic next week.
Will it be him, or another demanding Vyastil who wants to take what I have to offer?