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Subject: {ASSM} {ASSD} In the Darkest Place {Spline Duck} {SciFi, MF-kinda}
Date: Fri, 18 Jan 2002 00:10:04 -0500
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Originally written for Malinov's Solstice Celebration,
it never made it in.

In the Darkest Place
by S. Duck
Registered US Copyright 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

ADMINISTRATIVE ADVISORY: The risk discovered during our
agents' trip to the past is considerable. I recommend
that INTERSEX take more care in assigning agents to
difficult expeditions. In this case, a junior agent
endangered both of the participants.

AGENT'S SUMMARY: Because of the unusual nature of the
fossils, the science team decided to attempt to recover
a recording from the living beasts. While Interstellar
Scientific Expeditions (INTERSEX) seldom engages in
time travel, the scientific and fiscal benefits from
attempting to record the mating of the mumat are so
great that we decided that the level of danger and the
cost were acceptable. As the senior agent in the
expedition, I am dictating a transcript describing our
findings. We were not prepared for the danger we met.
The popular success of the edited program prepared from
our research does seem to justify the expedition.

EXPEDITION TRANSCRIPT: The two fossils were found on a
plateau on the planet known as Terra. The beasts, in
life, resembled the rocks that they were found among.
We found them among huge stones that were part of the
deep foundations of an old, fortified building. The
building is now just a pile of rubble, but there are
signs that it was palatial and well furnished when it
was occupied. By all appearances, the original builders
incorporated the mumat into the foundations. The
mumat's slow physical motion, hard exoskeleton, and
dull coloring probably led the builders to simply build
around them by adding stones. The builders probably did
not know that the mumat were alive.

Although there are many commercial transcripts of the
sexual experiences of large beasts, we felt that this
might be a new and unique experience for the public.
The demand (especially from women) for high intensity
transferences of large male beasts has been very high
lately. The possible financial dividends of an
excellent recording encouraged us to make the expensive
time trip. So, we prepared an expedition to the distant
past to retrieve a recording of the mating of the
mumat.

We materialized late on a warm night, on the bank of a
stream below a large, beautiful castle. Clear, pleasant
weather and moonlight made a beautiful scene. Agent 372
and I shouldered our packs of recording equipment and
started up toward the entrance. We saw lights above,
and we heard the distant sound of music. As we climbed,
the sound of music grew more distinct, and we heard
occasional loud voices and shrieks of laughter from
inside. Considering that I had done many successful
past expeditions, we had no intimation that there might
be any difficulties ahead. It was just another standard
retrieval expedition.

I expected that our most difficult problem would be
gaining access to the castle. Such buildings, after
all, had usually been built to deny access to
outsiders. But 372 and I have had lots of experience in
getting others to grant us insights and access others
might have trouble getting. After all, INTERSEX does
hire professional archaeologists and psychologists; the
primary goal is still supposed to be the furthering of
scientific knowledge. If salable recordings of alien
sexual diversions result, so much the better. In the
most difficult cases, the psychic projectors and
recorders that we carried could be used to raise
illusions that might change the minds of anyone who
tried to deny us access. We didn't expect to have to go
that far, but we were ready to deal with strong
rebuffs.

As we approached the entrance, the sounds from inside
grew louder and more distinct. Clearly, people were
enjoying themselves. As we crossed a bridge over a moat
filled with flowers, we expected watchmen to stop us at
the other side. Instead, there was a small sign
welcoming visitors (probably not meant for us) to the
equinox celebration. And there was a watchman and a
watchwoman there, but they were asleep in each other's
arms (with their clothing in considerable disarray).
372 and I walked quietly by; I figured we were in free.

Some distance ahead, down a somewhat dim hall, was a
brightly-lit room. Several couples and trios were
dancing, caressing, and (at least a couple) coupling.
I'll admit, it did seem a rather appropriate
environment
for our INTERSEX assignment. 372 asked if we could
linger for a few minutes, but I said we needed to get
below.

We turned to a side corridor and started to explore,
looking for a route to the depths of the castle. In the
dim corridors, we passed rooms only slightly more lit,
from which we heard the sounds of passion. At least
most of them sounded like passion, although
occasionally they might have been discomfort or pain.
Certainly, we heard the sound of a slap once; when we
sneaked a look into the room, we saw a hand fall on
rather shapely buttocks. We worked our way deeper into
the castle, and the sounds mostly faded away. But they
were not entirely gone; ventilation tubes throughout
the castle conducted sounds from the revelry above.
After a while, concentrating on the serious task at
hand became a little difficult.

At length, we came to the dungeon part of the castle.
Our
map showed that the mumat were still below us. Hidden
in a corner, we found a tiny spiral staircase leading
down. Below, we found ourselves in an area that was
rough and damp. Clearly, the builders only needed this
area to check the foundations. But here is where the
mumat were.

Huge stones, gray and slick, surrounded us. But the
largest of them were the two that we knew were the
mumat. They faced each other across a corridor, perhaps
10 feet apart. Surely, the earlier natives, when
building this structure, would have thought them to be
large stones. Without special knowledge, I, also, would
have thought them to be stones. The slow metabolism of
the mumat requires little food; they can subsist for
long periods on the algae, fungus, and organic detritus
in runoff water. Every so often they would have grabbed
passing vermin and, perhaps once in an eon, a human.

372 and I set up the projectors and recorders. We had
some fussy little problems tuning the recorders to the
unusually broad frequency range of the mumat. But after
a few minutes, our head- mounted monitors showed that
we were picking up the signals. As is usual for such a
slow organism, the sexual portion of the signal was
weak; they weren't into breeding at the moment. (Hardly
surprising when unexpected guests just drop in,
unannounced.) So, we started setting up the projectors
to encourage and guide them (and speed up the
proceedings). Although the finished product would be
adjusted to a human's attention span, it's still
convenient to record the mating in a reasonable period
of time. Besides, the technicians can get better
fidelity if they don't compress the time scale too
much.

We had some difficulties setting up the projectors. I
think the mumat must breed very seldom; it seemed
difficult to reach their sexual band. The broad
frequency range required to reach the mumat didn't
help, either. In the end, we set the projectors so
broadly that they almost lapped into the human band. Of
course, the recorders were setup to log the data into
the human band so that we could monitor it the
progress. That meant that even before the mumat were
sexually involved, we could feel some arousal, just due
to crosstalk.

As INTERSEX agents, we were used to crosstalk, and it
didn't cause us any problem. Crosstalk is easy to
ignore, and no residents were nearby to pick up on it.
In particular, the sounds of the orgy above didn't seem
to change much during our setup phase; the shouts and
shrieks just echoed down the air tubes, sounding much
as before. I had worried that leakage from the
equipment might be felt and detected by the residents.

Then we fully turned on the projectors to encourage the
mumat. Immediately, we were aware that there might be
some trouble; the mumat barely responded to the
signals. We
increased the strength to the maximum, and we could see
no sign of arousal. Certainly, there was no motion that
we could see. This was going to be a toughie.

Next, we set up the reflectors and repeaters around the
passage to increase the response. The overlap into the
bands that our monitors use was getting pretty intense
by this point. I had to prompt 372 to keep focused on
the job. A large erection, visible under clothing,
hinted at coming trouble. I worried that if 372 was
already stroking such a large erection, we might find
ourselves even more distracted later. I was having a
little trouble concentrating; I was starting to feel
moist stirrings, myself.

The instruments were near to their limits, making the
readings a little difficult to interpret; we were
flying by the seats of our pants (and mine were getting
more than a bit wet). We were making the adjustments
based on the perceptions coming into our monitors, so
everything we did to stimulate the mumat was based on
what was increasing our own stimulation. By this time,
I think 372 was starting to lose it; Suddenly, I felt
372's huge, now naked, erection against my thigh. I
yelled, "Get back to your instruments! Keep focused.
This won't take much longer." But that reddened pole of
an erection was already distracting my mind.

Finally, the mumat began to respond. But they didn't
just slowly awaken; the first hint that we had was an
enormous blast of erotic energy on our monitors. As we
fine-tuned the range of the projectors, the real
problem arose: we had finally crept fully into the
human frequency range, and we started picking up the
orgy above. Momentarily, I was stunned into immobility
by an enormous erotic wave. It rushed through my body
and crashed against my clitoris. The whole system was
now working in the human range, recorder and projector
alike.

Then the feedback started between the recorder and the
projector. The whole system went beyond our control.
The feedback of the orgy pushed the system and us over
the edge. I heard the sounds from the ventilation tubes
suddenly increase as the participants above were pushed
to new heights, probably greater than any of them had
ever experienced before. They would remember this as a
party beyond all previous limits!

372 was naked immediately. All I could see for a moment
was that glorious erection, enormous, delicious. Behind
372, I could see the change starting to happen in the
male mumat as he also became aroused. With the
monitoring instrument on my head, I was having trouble
distinguishing between 372's arousal and that of the
mumat. I was having trouble distinguishing between my
arousal and that of the female mumat. Actually, I was
having trouble distinguishing between myself and the
mumat at all. 372's erection seemed stony and as tall
as I am, and I was going to consume it. The shrieks
from above continued to increase.

Standing there in the corridor, I felt 372 entering me.
Standing there joined together in the middle of the
corridor, the illusion of the mumat's joining continued
to overpower me. An erection several feet long and
covered with huge
ridges opened me. I could feel it passing completely
through me, sawing in and out. It felt like a second
vagina had opened between my shoulder blades, and the
tip passed from one to the other, pumping into one and
out of the other and then back. I was covered in juice
and sweat from myself. In the psychic image, both
openings were pouring juice. All of the restraint
training that we had had as agents was totally
overwhelmed. The equipment was completely out of our
control. The corner of my mind that was still
concentrating on the external world noticed that the
male mumat was now getting really aroused. The feedback
from the orgy was getting into his brain, too.

I knew that this was going to be a great recording,
perhaps even a real classic, but I needed to get
control of the situation. 372 was unable to respond any
longer. When I used the headset to check, I found that
372 was totally lost, mind a mixture of the orgy above
and the male mumat. Simultaneously, a dozen or so women
were consuming that erection, two or three more taking
it deep in their mouths, drinking the stream of juice.
I luxuriated in the mumat organ deep inside and passing
through me. In 372's mind, the organ was as a big as a
human, bigger: six or seven feet long and a foot or
more in diameter. And the organ continued to bury
itself in me. And my own perception of a vagina several
feet long, stony hard, massaging, caressing, squeezing
that rock-hard organ as it sawed through me kept
feeding back to 372, increasing the mumat's arousal and
then mine.

And then I saw the danger. Fighting for control, I
tried to take in the actual physical situation in the
corridor. Something was tremendously different from the
image I was receiving. The mumat was not responding the
way the feedback in the monitor and projectors was
telling us. The feedback had mixed up the mumat with
the orgy above and with our own perceptions. When I
momentarily examined the mumat, I realized that where I
had expected to see a stately, pulsing, rock-hard tree
of a penis crossing the corridor and entering the
female, another organ was actually showing itself.

My first thought was that I was looking at the female
mumat, that I was looking at gigantic vulva. Looking
back and forth, I assured myself that, yes, that is
where the male is. On the surface of the male, a space
had opened between what looked like a giant, vertical
pair of lips. Between was a tubercle with a central
depression, looking a bit like the opening of a vagina.
What was going on here? I dug through the confused
signals in the monitor, looking for the female mumat.
Female signals were everywhere. It was like a room of
mirrors. Female images were everywhere: hair, vulva,
vagina, lips. The orgy above was in full swing and
fully involved in the feedback. For a moment, I was
captured by the illusion that I was tied to chair,
being enjoyed from behind, but I wrenched myself back
to the corridor.

Where was the real male mumat's signal, the clean
signal without the orgy; without my huge vagina
massaging it, milking it, sucking it; without 372's
huge erection?

And there it was: stately, ponderous, providing the
source of all of the power, the strength that drove the
feedback and carried the orgy along on its signal. He
was approaching a peak, but we had not read all of the
sexual range of the mumat. Sure, he could raise a penis
just like the one that I felt opening a canal through
me. He could raise an erection big enough to span this
corridor and more. But when the female doesn't respond,
or doesn't respond quickly enough, he has another
route. Meanwhile, 372 was approaching a peak; faster
and faster I pushed against the huge organ stroking me.
But the mumat was approaching his peak in a different
way. That wasn't his penis I saw.

Hypodermic insemination is their other route, and
that's what he was preparing to perform.

Lots of animals use hypodermic insemination. For one
thing, it requires less cooperation from the female.
But this female was built like a stone, a boulder, a
monolith. The hide of the mumat is so rocklike that the
natives had thought these were stones. So hypodermic
insemination would need a cannonblast to work. The two
mumat were only about 10 feet apart, and we were
between. Our lives were in danger, and 372's self-
image was an immobile mumat.

Searching through all of the images in my head, I found
a tall, dark, bearded man in the orgy above. He was
buried deep in a beautiful blond who was reaching an
incredible, feedback-enhanced orgasm. Pressing the
image of them onto 372 and myself, I strained for the
edge. Mixing in a little of the mumat images, I
gripped, squeezed, thrust, squirting juice from my
vagina as I came, pulling and massaging, hurrying 372
to the edge. As 372 came with a loud shout, I heard
more shouts from the ventilation tubes. The coupling
mumat returned to control me. My huge, muscular vagina
crushed down on the timber coursing through me, opening
crevices into its side to let out the semen. 372 and I
suddenly were joined together in the images; I couldn't
tell which side I was on. Momentarily focused by the
end of the first orgasm, I pushed us both to the floor,
both of us spent and our minds empty.

And the first blast from the mumat passed just over our
heads, destroying the main projector. As the projector
died, an enormous surge of erotic energy swept out,
through our monitors, and through us. A second and a
third blast followed. The floor shook with the force of
the injections. The walls shook. The sound of the
impact made our ears ring. Surely, the celebrants above
must have thought that the earth moved; the Earth did
move. They may not understand why, but the Earth did
move; it did.

With the projector destroyed, the feedback ended. There
was momentarily silence in the corridor, except for the
muffled splash of semen dripping from the wounds in the
female mumat. No sound came from the ventilation tubes
for a moment. And then the revelers started up again.

I called to 372 to see if she were OK. Finally, I could
see her as female again. Her first response was only a
moan. I looked over at her to see what her condition
was. There was a small cut on her cheek and a larger
one on her shoulder. A thin stream of blood ran from
her shoulder onto her breast and around an erect
nipple. Probably from fragments of the projector or of
the hide of the female mumat cut her as they passed. As
I stroked her cheek, she startled.

"Is it over?" she asked. "Did we get it? Are you all
right? Oh God! What I did to you! Are you all right?"

I tried to reassure her, "I'm OK, or I will be when
I've had time to catch my breath."

372 hadn't sorted out what was real and what had been
feedback-induced illusions. She said, "How could I have
done that to you. Do you have a wound on your back?
God! Where did it go through you?"

I gathered 372 into my arms, and I reassured her that I
was fine. "It's OK. It was just the feedback. You
weren't actually the mumat. You're back to human
female. Just lie here, and sort it out."

372 and I lay there for an indeterminate time. We were
totally spent, and our minds needed time to clear. When
we finally stood up, we were covered in sticky mumat
semen and surrounded by wrecked equipment. Slowly, we
began sifting through the flotsam, picking out our
clothes.

As we retraced our steps on our way out of the castle,
it seemed that most of the revelers were asleep. The
sounds we heard as we limped into the dawn were muted
and distant.

The technicians recovered enough of the sequence for
INTERSEX to produce a recording of the mating of the
mumat. They didn't advertise that it was enhanced by
the illusion that 372 and I produced and participated
in. It IS a great recording. They were able to smooth
the ending a little; it hardly matters, since most of
it was illusion anyway.

INTERSEX redesigned its equipment to increase the
safety limits and beefed up agent training a bit. 372
has retired as an INTERSEX agent; something seems to
have burned out in her brain. I, myself, considered
retiring. INTERSEX told me to take a six-month
sabbatical, and I'm feeling much better now. But I
haven't been able to clear the images from my mind.

I want to be the mumat again.


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

splineduck@hotmail.com

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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