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100 not out! - By Yotna El'toub  {Humour,FF,MF,SF )
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Written for Lost Boys second competition and dedicated to the LB and his otherworldly work.

WARNING: This story will contain situations and explicit language of an adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal age to do so. If you are a minor or object to stories of an adult nature, LEAVE HERE IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is 18+ please abide to your own local laws. Please note and understand the content codes for this story.
 
The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story.  Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors.

© Yotna El'toub 2004

100 not out!

Chapter 1 Preparations.

Procol hummed to himself as he decorated the bar, all in all, he enjoyed celebrations – O.K. so it was more work, but always fun. Procol had worked for two full years at the ‘Exotix Bar and Space Stop’; no it wasn’t high powered, all that had gone, but hell it was fun! 

The tall Harumian slung the final banner over the glass rack at the front of the bar, and then Procol took two strides back, admiring his handiwork ‘100 not out!’ was emblazoned in gold on a shimmering silver background. Procol uttered a brief ‘harrump’ of satisfaction, and sighed; all was ready. Now just add the punters, mix in a few harumian cocktails, and the tills would soon fill with space credits!

He ran a scaly hand over his bald wrinkled pate, and paused long enough to scratch his head in bemusement.
‘100 not out’ this was an odd celebration that apparently had it’s origins far across time and space on that outpost humanity called home, the Earth. 

In general, he liked Earthling’s - of course there were exceptions, but they made good drinking buddies, and always, but always, had the best stories.

The first customer walked into the bar. Procol laughed deeply, and roared his welcome.

“Serendipity - one of your words isn’t it – man I love that word”

“What are you talkin’ about now Proc?” Lewis asked.

“I’m thinking about human drinking buddies, and you walk in – isn’t that what you would call serendipity?” Procol winked.

“No it’s what I would call co-incidence, you being on the wrong side of the bar, now I got a word for that!” Lewis smiled at his reptilian host.

“Let me guess – Umm, inconvenient?” Procol jested, traipsing back to the bar.

“Well my word was less polite, but you got the gist, old pal” Lewis cracked a rare smile.

Lewis pursed his lips and read the banner out aloud.

“100 not out - now that’s earth speak - long time since I heard that”

“You know what it means! I understand it’s ancient – some sort of good luck charm?” Procol’s eyes widened in awe.

“Sure I know what it means, but if you want to know – it’ll cost you - what should we say one Shuttle-Slammer” Lewis beamed.

“Fair trade, for one of your stories – coming up!”

Lewis watched Procol prepare the cocktail, a kaleidoscope of colours flashed before him, as the barman demonstrated his skills for the first time that evening.

“Now that is impressive, really impressive,” said Lewis

“Just warming up” giggled, a too easily flattered Procol.

“No, not the juggling, the fact that something that looks that lethal, can taste so good!” replied Lewis, before downing the purple bubbling broth in one.

“See you, Procol,” said Lewis, levering himself off the bar stool.

“Ahem, the story Lewis – The story!” Procol reminded gently.

“Oh yes, you know, that stuff makes you forgetful, real fast” Lewis grimaced, and settled himself back onto the tall stool.

“It’s like this you see, at one time on Earth there was this odd sport…” Lewis began.

“Sport?” Procol interrupted.

“Game, Um, - pretend war” Lewis searched for an explanation.

“Oh war, I understand,” Procol added, “carry on”

“Look Procol if the idea of sport is odd, I really think me trying to explain Cricket is a bit…” Lewis never managed to reach the end of his sentence.

Procol held up his hand, in response to the sound of the approaching party.

“Sorry Lewis, work now - stories later.”

Lewis nodded, and turned to watch the guests arrive. There was the usual assortment of aliens, including some blobs. Now, Lewis had never really hit it off with blobs - ever since that time on Rigel 177. 

Male blobs were so possessive - I mean - he had been drunk, very drunk, What’s more, she came onto him! Only trouble was, although you could tell male blobs from female blobs, (and looking back Lewis was very pleased that was the case!) you couldn’t tell one male blob from another. Lewis was in no hurry to meet that particular male blob again. 

Suddenly, a quiet night in seemed a very good idea. Lewis stood quickly, intending to scurry away from the Exotix and back to the safety of his craft; but then he saw her, the star of the show, and all thoughts of escape evaporated. 

She was dynamite, human, a good six feet tall with dark hair, and bedroom eyes. Lewis was sure many men would happily die, just to look deeply into those brown orbs. Lewis’s adoration was rudely interrupted by an odd noise from behind him. He swung around to look at Procol. The big harumian had changed colour, chameleon-like and looked distinctly paler.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” asked Lewis.

“Her, Oh, by the gods – it’s her” stuttered the big reptile.

“Look, I don’t know how to break this to you – but, I don’t think you’ve got a chance! Me on the other hand…” Lewis replied, smoothing his lank hair, and attempting to look suave.

“It’s not that - you don’t understand,” replied a shocked Procol, before disappearing behind the glimmering display at the back of the bar.

‘Odd guy’ thought Lewis.

All further thought was interrupted by the arrival of ‘the body’ on the bar stool beside Lewis. He couldn’t believe his luck. She, in all her perfection, sat beside him. Then she did an amazing thing - a virtually perfect impersonation of 20th Century actress.

“What does a girl have to do, to get a drink around here?” the words bubbled from her lush lips.

Lewis saw his chance.

“Hey, Procol, Procol old friend – serve the lady!”

The lady swung her eyes to Lewis’s lips, and spoke slowly in a smoky brown voice.

“P-r-o-c-o-l?”

The absent bar keep returned, and the vision of beauty did a most unanticipated thing. She proceeded to wrap her arms around the reptile’s thick neck, and plant a warm kiss on his cheek.

“You guy’s know each other?” Lewis asked, his mouth agape.

“Know each other? Procol was my senior diplomat,” the vision paused, “I should introduce myself - Ambassador Yulie Miller – Cultural attaché to Earth mission five”

Lewis was completely thrown; should he courtesy, kiss her hand, and address her as your grace? He really didn’t know - he went for the low-key option.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really, and Procol was the best – well until that incident on Sirus 17” the ambassador replied.

“Sirus 17?” Lewis mouthed.

“You mean he hasn’t told you!” 

“No, I don’t think he has” Lewis regained a bit of his composure.

“Two Shuttle-Slammers, on the house,” Procol interrupted, “ excuse me I must serve the others.”

“Told me what?” asked a confused Lewis.

“Why he left the diplomatic core,” replied the ambassador.

“No, I don’t believe he has” said Lewis.

“Well I can honestly say, without Procol I would not be sitting here tonight!” the ambassador stated.

“Tell me more” Lewis smiled, disarmingly.

Chapter 2 Yulie’s tale.

Yulie smiled and relaxed, and a look of devilment crossed her striking features. She began.

“Procol and I worked together for six years, six very productive years. We visited planets in spiral arm gamma, advising on cultural & sociological issues, always looking to exchange ideas on reform. Over the years, I became very involved with adolescents, and their problems. It doesn’t matter what species you are, puberty is always unsettling!” 

Yulie paused, “That’s my experience anyway, what about you?” she asked, probing delicately.

Lewis swallowed hard, he tried to keep his face a mask of indifference; he wasn’t about to own up to two years of penal detention – not to a stranger.

“Very quiet, nothing extra-ordinary, Lewis Johnson was a bit of a bore, really.” Lewis muttered, casting his eyes slightly to one side.

Yulie laughed, her eyes twinkled – she had hit a nerve!

“Oh, that bad…” she paused for effect, then continued.

“One day Procol briefed me that we had received an urgent request to visit Sirus 17, due to a major concern over a worrying trend in the teenage population. The request was informal; Procol had received it from an old friend – by voicemail. He wanted to act quickly, being helpful, and being more than aware of the benefits of cross-departmental co-operation…”

Lewis butted in.

“Erm, could you use a little less jargon – what benefits?”

“In layman’s terms – a back-hander” smiled Yulie.

“Now that I understand, please continue” Lewis chuckled.

“So we asked the pilot to plot a course for Sirus 17, and Procol in his usual efficient manner briefed me on the background. Apparently, the teen population were rampaging off track, under age sex, drugs – all the usual. What was unusual was that they had found someway to influence their elders, and get them to join in! If this continued, society would disintegrate; the productive output had already fallen by 34%. Procol’s contact was one of the Sirus systems planetary council, his daughter had visited Sirus 17 for a mini break, and now she refused to return!”

“I see, so it was vital you stopped this world from grinding to a halt” Lewis grinned, “No pun intended!”

“Not really, getting the daughter back was – Nulix Grunelow was losing face – all because his daughter Mehana spent all her time - off her face! Yulie replied, ironically.

“That was his contact!” Lewis let out a low whistle, “Procol moved in high circles. This is the same Nulix Grunelow, the CEO of Galactic Mining, right?”

“The same, you’ve heard of him then?” Yulie asked, jokingly.

“Who hasn’t? He owns most of the outer Galaxy!” Lewis stared at the back of the bustling barman, in open disbelief. He paused, to reassess his old friend.

“Back to the story, we set off as soon as we could wrap up our current mission; a delay of a few days – no more.
When we arrived we were met by quite a delegation of Sirusian’s, I’d never met any before – a striking race, tall, slim similar to what I’d always imagined an elf looked like. Have you met any, Lewis?” Yulie asked.

“Nope, met most others – had relations with several, mostly pleasant, but Sirusian’s – no.” Lewis replied.

“Then you are in for a treat, several are coming to the celebration tonight! Anyway, we discussed the formalities, and agreed the joint meeting would begin at 2037.30 Sidereal. Then they asked me something a little odd, Jult’a, the delegations leader asked me who would be ‘performing’; an unusual phrase. I took it to mean oratory, this was my first mistake; I confirmed to Jult’a that I would. He looked quite taken aback, then nodded, smiled and said ‘We are truly honored, our performer is also female, does this present an problem?’ I replied that of course it didn’t, why should it. Jult’a nodded sagely and said ‘Most gracious – we are indeed honored!’ I simply smiled and the meeting ended.” Yulie paused.

“I get the impression that communications were a bit ambiguous,” Lewis stated.

Yulie’s eyes flared with temper.

“Am I telling this story, or would you prefer to construct your own?” She asked pointedly.

“Sorry, I meant no offence” Lewis replied.

“I too wondered about this, so I had Procol check the meaning of ‘performance’ in Sirusian. It was close to our understanding, but referred a little more widely – to any form of public event. I relaxed; all was going to plan. Procol finalised my briefing, and I went back to my room to finish my speech, I would even get a couple of hours to bathe, and relax – a real luxury!” Yulie paused she drank her slammer.

This time Lewis bit his tongue, and waited for her to continue.

“So, the appointed hour came and we transferred down to the planet’s surface. They had lain on quite a feast, I was a little perturbed to see so many satellite camera’s; they hadn’t mentioned any broadcast during our meeting. As is customary I withdrew with Jult’a to discuss my speech. I had barely got through the preliminaries when Jult’a interrupted me. ‘This is most unfortunate, but the speech is written for the wrong planet – we do not have those issues here!’ Once I recovered my equilibrium I asked him what his issues were. ‘We have a high incidence of adolescent suicide – this is the reason for the performance. The issue you talk of are current on Sirus 70, not Sirus 17!’ I immediately excused myself and sought out Procol, I was livid!” 

Yulie gulped down another slammer that had magically appeared on the bar while she talked, Procol was certainly looking his unexpected guest!

“I could imagine” Lewis mused, ‘I bet you’re a handful’ he thought, deciding against voicing his opinion.

“I tracked Procol down, and asked him how he could make such a basic mistake. He was certain he hadn’t, so I asked him for the data on Sirus 17 – Procol had to admit he had left it, back on the ship. The fool had left his datacorder behind, without any confirmation we had to believe them - Sirus 17, Sirus 70 it would be an easy mistake. Procol tried to make amends, he pointed across the room to a spectacularly attractive female Sirusian, ‘She is their presenter, why not chat with her, maybe her input will help you modify your speech quickly. I told him it was a poor compromise, but I saw no alternative.” Yulie stopped speaking, and swung her body back towards the bar.

“Procol, top up please”

Procol virtually vaulted across the bar, filling her glass without so much as a glance at Yulie.

“Where was I – Oh yes, I ordered Procol back to the ship to check our data. I would stay and try my hardest to avoid a major diplomatic incident. Procol wandered off, looking for the entire world like a failed space cadet. I steeled myself, and went to talk to the Sirusian presenter. I introduced myself formally and asked her if I could discuss her presentation in some detail before we began. Her reaction wasn’t at all what I expected, she looked mortified and spoke in a whisper ‘Not here, follow me’ I walked behind the elegant alien, her body swayed beneath the sheer gown – I got the distinct impression she wore little, or nothing under it.” Yulie paused again, it seemed the story was affecting her.

She took a long swig of slammer, I admired her stamina – there was no way could I drink them at that pace.

“She led me to a dressing room, tucked away from the main area. The elegant female spoke quietly ‘I’m Circlu’a, what do you want to know about my presentation?’ I asked for a brief description of it, nothing too detailed, just an overview so I could make my presentation appropriate. She looked totally bemused, sighed and said ‘Well, it’s up to you really; I’ll follow your lead. My experience is with male presenters, it’s unusual for a delegation to use a female’ Now I was bemused, what did she mean ‘follow my lead’? Yulie slumped, and slammed her empty glass down on the bar.

Procol got the message, refilling the glass swiftly.

“I told her that was the problem, I had little information and was uncertain how to start. Circlu’a’s eyes widened in panic ‘I told them I wasn’t experienced –they said you were’ tears welled up into her eyes. I tried to calm her, tell her it was fine, I would go first – I hadn’t meant to upset her. She stopped crying and looked at me wide-eyed ‘You mean we won’t be doing it together?’ I said in my experience one at a time was normal; otherwise the audience could get confused. Circlu’a thought about this, and spoke in a grave voice ‘I am a professional Duthr’a Kar presenter; I do not give solo presentations. Duthr’a Kar is always performed as a couple. Do you want to insult me in front of my whole race?’ I said of course I didn’t, what I asked was Duthr’a Kar?” Yulie sunk another slammer in one.

Lewis couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“And, Duthr’a Kar is?”

“If you are patient you will discover, Lewis – or would you rather guess?” Yulie asked, the slammers were at least mellowing her – Lewis could see no other effect.

“Sorry, please continue, I’m just interested.” Lewis apologised.

“Circlu’a looked lost – she turned away from me and slipped a foil container out from under her silken robe ‘I’m sorry, I must prepare myself – to enter the trance’ Circlu’a opened the wrap and took a pinch of the luminous purple powder, she sniffed it deeply, first into one nostril, and then the other. An instant calm descended on the slim alien, she spoke in a steady assured voice ‘Duthr’a Kar is an ancient and noble art, it is the key to our salvation – watching Duthr’a Kar calms the beast, it cures the suicidal’ Frustration started to get the better of me, I raised my voice insisting she explained to me what she was talking about. Circlu’a looked at me with contempt ‘I do not know of an earth word for Duthr’a Kar – let me show you’ Circlu’a bent forward and opened a small drawer in the dresser, she took out a long cylindrical device, then she formed her thumb and forefinger of her right hand into a ring and slid the cylinder in and out of it. I realized at once, as odd as the shape of the cylinder was, it could only be one thing” Yulie stopped, and stood, stretching her lithe body. 

“What was it, what was the cylinder?” Lewis asked in frustration.

“I’ll tell you when I come back from the rest room, sorry too many slammers too quickly” Yulie walked off towards the far end of the bar, and eyes of all sizes and shapes followed her exit.

Chapter 3 The tale continues.

Lewis sat drumming his fingers impatiently on the marble topped bar. Procol was nowhere to be seen, and Yulie was taking one hell of a long time. Lewis glanced idly around the crowded room; inadvertently he caught the eye of a blob. The blob seemed to recognise him; he was safe, it was a female. Suddenly an awful thought flashed through his mind ‘Maybe it was that female – shit! If it were that male would be sure to be nearby. Lewis rose, looking to make a discreet exit. A manicured hand met his shoulder and gently returned him to his barflies stool.

“I thought you wanted to know what it was,” Yulie asked.

“Oh yeah, I mean, yes I do it’s just…” Lewis paused “never mind”

“The cylindrical object was obviously, a dildo,” Yulie announced with a flourish.

“A dildo!” Lewis echoed needlessly, as his right eyebrow moved half an inch further up his forehead.

“Yes Lewis, a dildo, now do you want to hear the rest?”

“I sure do!” Blob or no blob, Lewis decided he was staying put.

“Suddenly it all became clear, Circul’a was a Sirusian Porn star – in my confusion all I could muster was an inane question – asked it as directly as I could ‘You mean Duthr’a Kar is – sex!’ Circul’a showed real anger for the first time ‘No, there’s no equivalent earth word, it is so much more than sex – it is the merging of two souls, for the delight and spiritual elation of an audience. It is my religion, my reason for being!’ I listened with increasing panic, ‘But, you’ve never had Duthr’a Kar with another female – and now you and I are about to do a joint presentation, on camera! Am I right?’ Circul’a frowned, she looked as puzzled and shocked as I felt ‘Why yes, it is what you asked for after all, and it will give countless adolescents the will to live. That is what you are here for, isn’t it?’ I stood before this delectable creature unable to speak, as the true horror of my situation dawned on me” Yulie shifted a little on her stool, easing her legs slightly apart.

“And then, I know, don’t tell me – Procol to the rescue?” Lewis asked, smiling – he had cracked it, this was a wind up. That Procol, what a guy – he was paying Lewis back for all his tall stories.

“No, no Procol, no rescue. Unless that is you know what happened next better than me?” Yulie paused, letting her words sink in.

“You mean - this is for real? Not some fertile product of Procol’s imagination. Never!” Lewis voiced his deep skepticism.

Yulie reached out and grabbed Lewis’s hand; she ran the fingertips over her stiffly erect nipples.

“This is for real, and so is my story” Yulie announced solemnly.

“No shit?” asked Lewis, his mouth dropping open.

Yulie used Lewis’s own hand to seal his hanging jaw.

“None, now, do you want to hear the rest?” She asked.

Lewis simply nodded.

“As I was about to make my excuses, and follow Procol back to the ship the trap closed. Jult’a walked in ‘We are waiting, is there a problem?’ he asked in a polite but exasperated voice. I could find no words my mouth moved but nothing would come out. Circul’a answered for me, ‘None Jult’a, we are just discussing how to make this Duthr’a Kar worthy of our audience.’ As quick as a flash, her elegant hand grabbed the rest of the purple drug and deposited it in my slack mouth. The effect was startling, my body – I swear, my entire body orgasmed, and then continued to peak in delicious after-shocks. Jult’a spoke ‘Excellent, but satellite camera links are expensive you know, and your audience awaits!’ Jult’a left the room, clearly expecting us to follow. Circul’a spoke in hushed, hurried tones ‘Look this is my career, and it’s not going to be ruined by some disorganised alien who can’t make her mind up! The drug will help, now let’s do it.’ With these words still ringing in my dumfounded ears Circul’a led me from the room.” Yulie paused.

“Where is that barman when you need him?” Yulie asked, a little too loudly.

“Here, have mine” Lewis offered.

“Thanks, now lets see, OK. Circul’a led me from the room, out into the main area – all was in darkness, other than a brightly illuminated plinth. Circul’a manoeuvred me in front of the plinth, and gave me the slightest of pushes. My thighs collided with the edge of the plinth and I sprawled onto it. I watched in wonder, as beautiful blooms sprouted from nowhere, and the sound of angels singing filled my dizzy head. One of the flowers bent down against my mouth, its petals brushing my face. This flower had nipples, or was it stamen, long stiff stamen filling my mouth. I suckled deeply, drinking in the gorgeous nectar; I came again, and again. The leave’s stroked me, wiping away my fears, together with my unwanted clothes. I hung my spinning head over the edge of the plinth, as the flower cascaded down my body, opening my willing thighs and exploring my wetness – I was in heaven” Yulie sighed, her hand worked quickly between her smooth legs.

Lewis moved, and pulled at his trousers – he attempted to cover the telltale signs of his burgeoning erection.

Yulie continued - her voice quaking slightly.

“As I hung there, ravished by a beautiful angelic flower, I had an odd hallucination. Procol walked towards me, upside down, and laid a pure gold leaf in my right hand. I looked at the leaf, the strange veins on its surface looked just like writing. How odd I thought – a plant that can write! It would be so impolite not to read its message. I found it hard to focus my eyes on it” Yulie bucked against her hand, her thighs falling still farther apart – she made no attempt to hide her self-obsessed love.

Lewis swallowed hard, at least he tried to – he found he had no spit.

“What did the leaf write? What did it say? Yulie – Yulie, tell me.” Lewis grunted, his own passion spiraling.

Yulie spoke, unsteadily between assorted moans.

“It said… Unnnhhaa! It said – ‘they lied; this is the right planet and the right problem! The teens must have infiltrated the elders. This is a trap!’ I dropped the clever leaf and watched it drift away. I waved it goodbye, it was autumn – the leaf was dead, it no longer mattered! Ummhhhaaa! Oh god1 I’m randy! Take me Lewis, fuck me!” Yulie dissolved in a heap of multiple orgasms.

Lewis watched, Yulie’s provocative presentation, lust stirred his erection, and his embarrassment increased in direct proportion to his member’s length. He glanced around the room, no one was watching, most of them were busy positioning cameras and lights. Lewis had seen the trap too late!

Yulie raised her head from its slumped position
- She smiled broadly at Lewis.

“Tonight is my 100th performance, 100 not out!” Yulie grinned, as she slipped from the barstool.

Lewis felt Yulie’s urgent hands tugging at his fly; in a second she had his erection nestled deeply in her succulent mouth. Lewis tried to pull away, to run but his legs refused. His knarled cock pushed back into the wet velvet orifice. Purple flowers waved to him; one he swore looked just like a blob, a blob he should remember – but couldn’t. Lewis swung his head around marveling at the spectacular array of blooms. One of them spoke ‘I’m so sorry.’ Lewis just waved - he no longer cared.

The barman wiped a heartfelt tear from his eye, and returned to cleaning the last drops of purple fluid from the glasses that Lewis and Yulie had so recently used. The whole thing had been a trap; the story, whenever listened to, or indeed, read would ensnare the unwary. The whole thing was a ghastly, long, contrived joke.

Chameleon-like Procol colour shifted in embarrassment, and his face burst a little ghostly. Procol, of Harum, turned a whiter shade of pale!

The end.

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Foot Notes ©Yotna El'toub 2004
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I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.  As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my only payment for my work. Please address comments to Yotna.eltoub@hushmail.com
 
This story is copyrighted by the author and as such may not be published, posted or archived on any newsgroup, website, or server, other than ASSM and ASSTR, without the EXPRESS PERMISSION of the author. Any reader may archive a copy of this story, provided the warnings and copyright information is attached in full.