FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The tunnels were nice. They were quiet, but not silent, the sounds of the Teeth reverberating through them, carried on the air in whispers. Walking, grunting, shoving, moving, all echoed silently through the ventilation shafts along with the ever-present human talk-sounds, all bled together. It was a welcome reprieve from the loud, frenetic world of the Humans, who moved about and made noise but had no other registrable presence in her mind. After too long, their presence became strange, uncanny, in need of manual correction via stroking their soft, pleasant hair. In the absence of soothing, retreating to the tunnels was an acceptable salve, and one Friend Ran supported.

The ventilation shafts were stately, roomy and well made, very similar to the ones in the hive. Yannit had wonder if the Humans, with their many strange and wonderful things, had carved out these tunnels themselves. Such a thing would be difficult for them, as they needed room to inflate themselves to breath, and their bodies, while squishy, didn't bend certain ways very easily.

She ran her antennae on the walls, detecting the astringent traces of the substance used to dissolve and soften the limestone. Indrel used a similar method when digging through softer rocks, though the taste-smell of the substance was different, specialized to this sort of rock. Humans didn't appear to produce the excretions needed to do this, so far as she knew anyway, and their funny, flexible grasper claws lacked the hardness and strength to scour even soft stone. Did they bring the rock-softener with them into the tunnel along with their strange, hard not-rock tools?

So many questions. She would find answers. Her time with Friend Ran had exposed her to this Human thing called the 'scientific method', the process of observing something until a pattern emerges, and then testing that pattern against other factors to determine its nature and cause. Something about the scientific method appealed to her insectoid mind, the method of investigation and the deduction of patterns and comparisons. Indrel naturally used such a method in all aspects of life, from finding new sources of food, to digging tunnels and chambers, even when determining if alien Indrel were benign or hostile. Her mind took to it like a grub to sustenance.

Therefore, she had decided to set about on her own personal research mission. Were she to label it after Ran's reports as she's heard them narrated, this endeavor would be called 'Humans: Why?: A Treatise on the Subject of Human Behaviors'.

Traveling the vents had proven very interesting to the curious insect, offering her insight into her hosts she could not have gained otherwise. Humans behaved differently when observed, she found, her presence generally causing them to stop and stare. Yannit enjoyed this reaction, as they no doubt found her as fascinating and cute as she found them. However, it did mean that she could not learn all she wanted. She wanted to observe them, see their habits and customs, all of them.

Since arriving in Val Salia, she had learned many interesting things about Humans.

For one: while they were arranged in a strict hierarchy in which one was born into a position, like the Indrel, a Human could learn a new craft and occupy a different position once given opportunity/permission to do so. Humans that swept floors could, in time, become the Human version of a predigestor. Granted, Human predigestors did not consume and digest coarse food and regurgitate it into the mouthes of others, but they did cut and flavor and burn food for others to devour.

Basically the same thing.

For two: Humans, like Indrel repletes, became swollen with nutrients when their consumption exceeded their activity, but could not share this excess with others in the form of sustenance.

Yannit recalled on one occasion while explaining this function to Friend Ran, she had gestured at a turgid housekeeper and inquired if she was something similar. The housekeeper's face scrunched up adorably at this and she left. So cute and funny. Friend Ran found this observation amusing and corrected her presumption, warning her against such candid observations in polite company. Yannit found this social more odd, but would comply.

For three: despite being social and friendly, Humans valued isolation to a degree, and even designed entire rooms to this purpose. Indeed, even the friendliest Humans would become agitated when she intruded on these isolation chambers without permission.

This finding was deeply strange to Yannit, as prolonged isolation on her part had recently led to an unnerving episode. Friend Ran explained that Humans acted on a strange sort of territoriality, like Indrel hives do with one another but on an individual level. 'Privacy' he called it. When pressed, he explained that there are activities and behaviors that Humans are uncomfortable performing around other Humans, or that these activities were not appropriate to do in the presence of others, necessitating isolation chambers for such things.

The concept of privacy fascinated the insect. She had to learn more.

She crawled through the vents, antennae twitching as she drew near her target. She peered through the vent opening, looking down on the room below. It was a domicile, one of the many simple single-occupant rooms near the guard barracks. Milling about the room was a male Human, a guard she had seen around. He held rank of some kind, but was otherwise no different from the others outside of being somewhat taller and broader across the shoulders. However, he was different in one way that made him stand out to Yannit in particular. His features hardly remarkable, to her eyes he looked like any other Human, but his hair... it was dark, lustrous, and very very curly. It seemed to hold itself up, not falling to the sides like straight hair, but out, almost like a bush. He kept it somewhat short, but Yannit wanted to see how springy and bushy it would get if grown out.

Of all the Humans, she wanted to touch his hair the most, if only for the novelty. That would have to come later. She was here to see what Humans did when they sought isolation.

He sighed and rolled out his shoulders, walking over to his bed, reaching under it and pulling out a large basin and a smaller bucket. He carried it over to the other side to a wide, deep trough in the floor. A spout and wooden handle with a knotted rope dangling from it protruded belly-high from the wall. He disrobed, Yannit watching with particular interest: Humans always wore their strange fabric things, to the point her Hive Sisters assumed they were part of their bodies. Yannit knew better, knew the purpose of these intricately spun fiber constructs. Human skin was soft and fragile, and withstood wind and cold and sun poorly, the clothes protected them from the elements. However, even when inside, away from the elements, the Humans never took off their clothing. Not once had she seen one in the nude, a shirtless laborer here and there, but never without the lower garment.

Was this one of those 'privacy' things?

His upper clothing fell to the floor, revealing his bare flesh. Yannit suppressed a delighted chitter. She was learning so much!

She could tell before that Human males were different from females just from their shape, with the males being larger, meatier, and grew strange coarse hairs where the females did not. But here she could fully appreciate the difference. Females possessed strange fleshy lumps upon their narrow torsos whereas males were flat and broad, the muscles visible under the skin. She found herself staring as he moved about, removing his garments. Unlike Indrel, whose flesh resided within a hard carapace, Human bodies were the reverse, with their hard structures on the inside. She didn't realize how much Humans moved about when they, well, moved about. Muscles bunched and flowed under the thin hide, every movement changing their shape in subtle, pleasing ways. With Indrel, all was still except for the moving parts, but with Humans, every motion set off a cascade of movement and change. This particular guard made it very easy to see which muscle pulled what, his warm skin stretched taut over them, countless strange lines visible beneath it, like the roots of a plant. She wondered what they felt like, those little lines, or how his flesh changed in texture when he flexed.

She wanted a closer look. She wanted to touch. But privacy is important to Humans, so she sufficed to get a different vantage.

Quickly and quietly, she shuffled through the tunnels to another ventilation hole, in the wall this time, and peered through it. She could see him in his profile now, amused at how males weren't flat on their chests after all, but had large, broad mounds there too, covered in a light skein of curly dark hair. Not pronounced or bouncy as the females, these looked to be made of muscle, with curious little bumps on each, little dark ringed buttons.

What were those for? They looked almost like spiracles. Did they help with breathing? And all those lumps on his belly, they were muscle too?

He bent over to fiddle with his breeches. Yes, they were muscles. They looked funny, she wanted to feel them move with her antennae, maybe figure out what they were attached to. Surely not the whole thorax! Humans had their hard parts on the inside, so there had to be hard parts going all up and down their torso, otherwise Humans would just fall over! Surely? Must investigate further.

His breeches were undone, Yannit watching intently. Now she'd see why no Human ever removed the lower garment, not even when working in the hot sun. The pants dropped… revealing another, smaller garment of dull gray cotton. Yannit almost hissed in irritation. Another one?! He moved to doff the final layer, Yannit musing sourly that surely there would be another, smaller swatch of fabric and on and on! Humans had more layers than a pupa!

The little garment thudded silently to the floor, Yannit's eyes going wide with interest. This particular Human male had some sort of organ in the crux of his legs, a long fleshy tube set overtop a skin sack of some kind. Within the sack were what appeared to be a pair of spheres each about the size of a small plum, hanging low, but not so low as the tube, which extended half its length lower. Was that normal or did this human have a tumor?

It was then that she noticed the smell filling the air. It wasn't the normal Human smell that suffused the Teeth, or the unpleasantly strong floral aromas some Human females dusted themselves with. It was strong, natural, almost spicy. It smelled like the Human smelled, but stronger, more potent and with an unmistakable pheromone edge. It was coming from the guard, and more specifically it was coming from that strange little organ.

Of course!

That must be the reproductive organ!

But why was it between the legs? That's where the waste chute ought to be, it was on Indrel anyway. Yannit supposed that Humans didn't have an abdomen to store all their innards and generative organs, so it would have to be there. What a cluttered layout.

Still, how would that work? The strange little organ just hung there, dangling and limp. It didn't seem to be rigged with any musculature, how was that supposed to perform the male function of delivering seed? Did the female encase it and secure herself? Where were the coital hooks? It was outside of him, so that meant it was active, didn't it? Male Indrel's depositors only revealed themselves when active, being internal at all other times. Was this Human in breeding season? That would certainly explain the smell. So much she didn't know.

Its location was odd too. When Indrel Queens and Queen Proxies engaged in coitus with males, the male would mount her and curl his depositor down to meet with the female's receptor, their coital hooks would latch, and rigorous stimulation would commence. Yannit had never experienced it herself, as a drone she did not produce eggs and seed was precious, but the Queen Proxies were always keen to regale the drones with their breeding escapades, replete with think-feel-wants that portrayed the act as supremely pleasurable and fulfilling beyond even the most filling, delicious meal. They would frequently regale them, in fact, unprompted, detailing the number of males, the robustness of their seed, and the quality of their performance – whatever that meant – evidently reveling in their privilege over the female workers.

Yannit frowned at the memories of Hive politics. She was here because she found such things tedious and annoying. Humans were much more interesting with their smooth rolling sound-words, cute squishy emotive faces, and delightfully soft hair. Their pleasingly proportioned bodies and muscles that flowed and danced under their soft, silky skin. Their tangy scent that made touch-feeling their hair a singular delight. And now, this new smell she'd experienced. Oh, how she wanted to touch and feel and taste without all those dry, dead fibers in the way. She wanted to poke and prod and squeeze – but not too hard – this male, to explore him and many others, these strange and fascinating creatures. But for now 'Privacy' was to be respected.

A sudden movement drew her attention away from her longings. The guard, having discarded his second shell of annoying fibers, sat himself down in the basin, setting the bucket aside, his head under the spout. He pulled on a handle, water pouring from the slit in a torrential stream and splashed down on his head. Yannit cocked her head, she'd thought she'd heard running water through the walls. So, the Humans have made tunnels for water and for air. What's next, fire? The guard gasped, his body tensing, making his pleasingly defined muscles stand proud. She sampled the air, the water smelled soft, likely rainwater collected in the cisterns she smelled in the upper areas, and in her extra perception she saw that the water stood dark against the brightness of the Human's heat: very cold. The guard's organ retracted and shriveled amusingly until it was a dark little worm just barely longer than the Human's index finger, sitting atop a stiff, wrinkly pouch.

So, Human depositors got smaller? Again, how would that work? From what she'd been told, the depositor was long in order to deposit their seed nearer to the eggs, and rigid enough to push through the dense, muscular flesh of the female's egg channel. Such things were supposed to be flush with blood and warmth and strength, to spear and stretch the female, filling the void within her with its presence before filling it with life. How was that cringing, shriveled little thing supposed to do that? Perhaps this was not how Humans mated? If so, Yannit felt sorry for them, as part of what made the Queen Proxies so irritating was how amazing and fulfilling they felt the act to be, taunting Yannit and her sisters with their exclusive access to it.

The Human set about soaking himself with another stream of cold water, hissing in displeasure. He reached into a bucket and produced a small, pale bar and a rough hemp cloth. He wet the cloth and from the bar produced an astringent-smelling lather, working it into his scalp before rubbing the lather all around his body. He stood up and got the unpleasant-smelling foam all over his body, especially his groin and undercarriage. The guard sat back down, wetting and wringing out the cloth and using it to wipe the lather away. Another blast of water rinsed the suds from his dark, curly hair, his fingers rigorously scrubbing and rubbing, sure to get all of the strange substance out of his hair. He picked up the bucket stood up, filling it full before upending it over his head, washing away the last vestiges of the stuff from his skin.

Yannit belatedly remembered that Humans did not groom one another as Indrel did, with sanitizing excretions from the mouth and tongue serving to remove dirt and grime and lend the carapace a pleasing sheen. She wondered what would happen if she tried to groom this Human in such a way. Running her tongue and soft inner mouthparts all over his face, his broad chest, his funny bumpy belly, all the way down to his strange, squishy depositor. It would save him the unpleasant cold water and harsh-smelling foam. What a good way to familiarize herself with a Human, too. She would satisfy her curiosity regarding the taste and textures of the Human form while providing a service! She would have to suggest this to Friend Ran.

The guard reached for a longer swathe of dry fabric, blotting the water from his skin before scrubbing his dark, delightfully curly hair. Sufficiently dry, he drained the basin and made his way over to the simple bed, sitting down on it with a creak. Was he going to sleep? In the morning? Humans did not usually sleep at this time of day. Yannit recalled that even when she scampered about during the night, when all the Humans were supposed to be asleep, there were still some walking about, some of them doing work that needed to be ready for the morning, others were… guarding. Of course. This guard must have been guarding all night. No doubt he was tired.

“Just the thing to cap off the night…" He muttered, heaving a sigh as his hand drifted down his belly. “Gods bless Lady Talleraine and her sleepwalking…"

Yannit cocked her head to the side. Lady Talleraine was a visiting Important Person, and one who had the quaint habit of walking about while asleep, usually wearing little more than a nightgown. According to Ran, her love of something called blood tea was the cause. Yannit herself had seen her shambling around a few times. Now that she'd seen a male without clothes, she felt compelled to more closely examine the female form. Perhaps she would even determine how Humans mated with such odd organs.

“Snooty junky…" He sighed, his hand grasping his slowly unshriveling depositor. “Those fekking tits, though!"

Yannit's eyes widened as she watched. What was he doing? The bed was on the far side of the room, away from the bathing area, making it somewhat difficult to see. Her other sense told her that whatever was happening, the Human was getting warmer, especially…

She had to get a better look.

The Indrel scurried through the ventilation shafts, peering through an opening on the wall, over the bed, and watched. His hand squeezed and stroked his depositor, now back to its former size, flush with warm blood. Yannit trilled quietly, curious. Perhaps the organ was uncomfortable when cold and he was heating it up. It was certainly working, the depositor was rapidly warming.

“Fekk…" he murmured, closing his eyes. “Hips too… nice flat belly… enjoy the memory, Clint, that's as close as you'll get to her…"

Clint was his sound-name? Maybe Clint could become Friend Clint? What was Friend Clint doing?

The depositor… grew. With each stroke of his hand, with each passing second, Friend Clint grew. And grew. And grew some more. Rising and changing, the funny, limp skin tube became a tall, thick shaft, the wrinkled pucker at the end became smooth, taut, before sliding back, revealing a shiny bulb with pronounced furled crown about the size and color of a Tiplod egg. Yannit almost chittered in amusement: it looked like a mushroom! Yannit liked mushrooms, they had a fun texture and pleasantly earthy flavor.

Friend Clint's depositor finally stopped growing. It had to have gotten three times as long, and at least that much thicker, his large, rough hand not quite able to encircle it. Where a funny, wrinkly thing had been there was now a long, rigid organ, something much closer to what she imagined a proper depositor to be. It twitched and throbbed in his hand, a small bead of clear fluid forming at the tip. She watched with rapt attention, dimly aware of the scent in the air, that same strong, tangy musk from before he'd rubbed that harsh-smelling lather all over himself. So it was coming from there! Apparently, Human depositors were always on the outside, but were deflated and small. However, when stimulated, they would rapidly engorge and swell, ready to fulfill their purpose.

She still didn't see where the coital hooks might be, though. Maybe they came out later?

She was learning so much!

Wait, why was this happening? There was no female around for Friend Clint to deposit into. Why had he prepared himself so? Perhaps she was right before and the organ being cold was uncomfortable. Indeed, the thing was very warm now, hot even, it glowed in her other sense like a lantern, pulsing with heavy, steady beats. Now that it was warm, Friend Clint would be much more comfortable and could get some sleep.

“Yeah… show me those tits…" Friend Clint said, quietly, stroking the long shaft of his depositor. “Open your mouth, My Lady…"

Mouth? Why her mouth? Was she wildly wrong about how Human's mated?

“Fekk…" Friend Clint moaned, pumping harder. “Suck it. Suck my cock… I wanna see that lipstick on my rod…"

Yannit watched, transfixed. What was he doing? His depositor was sufficiently warm, so why continue? And what do Human mouthparts have to do with mating? What's a cock? The more she learned, the more questions were raised. The Human picked up the pace, his hand gliding up and down the length of his shaft, squeezing and pulling. His back arched slightly as he leaned his head back, giving a shuddering sigh of release as a long rope of thick, white liquid spurted from the tip, splattering across his belly and dripping down the shaft and onto his hand. And another. And another. A few more times and the event was over. Friend Clint huffed slightly, his rapidly cooling issue splattered across his stomach. He sighed and reached down, grabbing a cloth and blotting it up. He sighed and turned over in his bed, pulling the blanket up over him.

“Idiot, you shoulda done that before your bath…" He grumbled.

Yannit, now quite sure the show was over, pulled back into the vents, processing what she had seen. She was reasonably sure that what she had seen squirting from his depositor was seed. Human seed. He'd just wasted his issue upon his belly. Why? Such a thing would have been unthinkable back at the Hive, a male mating with a female drone was considered a scandalous waste, much less daubing it up with an old rag! And how did mouths factor into it?

She needed to learn more. She needed to watch the Humans much more closely, and privately, if she was to truly understand.

Yannit crawled down the ventilation shaft, pausing as something caught her eye. There, on the floor, under the bed, was the rag Friend Clint had used to mop up his wasted seed, still saturated with the stuff. On impulse, she reached out and grabbed it. Her antennae poked and prodded the saturated fabric, her taste-feel tingling as she came across an especially wet spot. Her mandibles clacked together, a buzz building in the back of her throat. Something in the stuff was effecting her, something odd and unfamiliar rose in her unbidden and she plopped the rag in her mouth, trilling in satisfaction. What was this strange sensation? It was similar to Ran's experiments, but she couldn't name the feeling.

She was learning so much about Humans!

Watching Humans in private had been informative. When sure no one was watching, Humans did all sorts of interesting things. They would talk to no one, or sing, or sniff other Humans' clothing. Curiously to Yannit, was Humans insistence on excreting waste in private. Indrel had rubbish chambers where they would do so, but simply to keep it from contaminating anything else. Humans did the same with troughs and seats over running water mains or cess pits, but in these waste rooms they would have these odd little stalls, wooden walls with canvass curtains. Yannit could only wonder the reason for this, eventually deciding it was just some weird Human thing, like when an Indrel smelled sick for too long, they would be taken away by guard Indrel and never spoken of again. That would be difficult to explain to Humans, as they had whole buildings and statues to Humans who were no longer around.

She prepared to conclude her daily 'scientific research' and head back to Friend Ran to participate in yet another scent experiment. He'd found many substances that elicited several automatic reactions such as drooling, the excretion of sanitation substances, and an mounting feeling of oppressive dread. He was confident he'd be able to find a substance that could combat her constantly percolating sense of panic and desire to bite faces.

Speaking of biting, below her were two Human males, only was moaning and groaning as the other knelt, biting the depositor of the other. Yannit stopped, a surge of panic rushing to the fore. Violence? He was biting the other's organ? The bitten Human threw his head back and moaned, a very familiar moan. No… he wasn't being bitten, the other wasn't biting. What were they doing? The Human's head bobbed, his mouth gliding up and down the sensitive organ, subtle slurps and pops emanating from the action.

Wait, didn't Friend Clint mention a mouth? Lips? Yes, he did. Was this what he was talking about as he stimulated his depositor?

“Fekk, yeah…" The Human being serviced groaned. “Suck my cock, slut…"

There was that word again. Cock. Is that what they called the depositor? And sucking it? No teeth?

“Tch! Ah!" The Human winced. “Watch your teeth!"

No teeth. Noted.

The other Human withdrew from the 'cock' with a pop, pumping it in his grasp. This Human's cock was much different from Friend Clint's, almost completely eclipsed by the hand stroking it. Were they not all the same? The Human panted and moaned as his cock jumped in the other's, hot white seed spurting from the tip in a series of spasmodic jets. As the Humans exchanged muttered words, Yannit pondered this revelation. Not only can Human males self-stimulate in the absence of a female, but males also stimulate one another. But why? Letting the delicious substance spill on the floor like that, it struck her as wasteful. She wondered if she should ask Friend Ran about this, but dismissed the notion: this was a private activity, something Humans did alone or with people they trusted enough to put their mouths on their 'cocks'. Friend Ran would likely not want to discuss such things with her, or worse, tell her to stop watching Humans when they're being private.

No, she had to proceed with her research on her own.

As with everything Humans did, these new realizations raised further questions. Now that she knew how the Human depositor – or cock – worked she was reasonably certain how Human females functioned. Indeed, last night Lady Talleraine had been out for a naked sleep-walk and Yannit gently led her back to her room, looking her over as she did. Naturally, she wanted to get close and examine more Human females, to touch and squeeze and taste and smell them just like she did the males. They looked so soft and smooth and delightful, if only there was some way to get them comfortable enough with her to allow her to do so. It would come, all in good time. First, she had to decipher the males.

But, back to the pressing matter: not all cocks are the same, apparently. So far, she had only seen the two, and while the shape was about the same, the difference in scale had been significant. Was Friend Clint a different caste of Human from Bathroom Human? What was the difference? She'd have to investigate further, but how? She could (and would) revisit Friend Clint to establish what Friend Ran called a 'reference-point'. But how would she go about increasing the sample size?

Questions for later, it was time to visit Friend Ran for his experiments.

“And this?" Ran said, pushing forth a small vial of liquid.

Yannit leaned forward, puffing on it and sampling the air with her antennae. “Ihs like… blaaack mold in storrres. Rrremove."

“I see," said the short, svelte Human, his word-feather bobbing as he wrote. “You sound unmoved. I take it the feeling is distant?"

“Hyesss."

“Interesting." He pushed forward a small bowl of powder. “And this?"

She sampled it and made a few retching sounds, only for Ran to hurriedly scoop it away.

“Oh dear! Are you alright?"

“Hyes," she said, smiling blithely. “Ihs like feeeed young wiith kkkrop."

“Ah, yes," said Ran, smiling. “The young would make that scent and you would regurgitate any food you had in your crop, yes?"

“Hyesss," said Yannit frowning. “Nnno sssooth-thing yet. Am sorrrry."

“No need to apologize," he said, waving her off. “We'll find it eventually. I think that concludes this round of experiments. Mind if we try a few more?"

“Nooo miiind."

He place on her head a hood of some kind. “Can you see me?"

“Nnno?"

“Leather blocks vision," said Ran, scribbling. “Interesting."

Another hood, again she saw nothing. “And this?"

“Noooothing."

“Flax canvas blocks," said Ran. “Thickness of material appears to be a factor."

“Hwhat ihs?"

“Oh, just a theory I'm working on." Ran removed the veil. “You see, the Baxxid, like the Indrel, are partially subterranean. Their eyes can perceive in environments where Human eyes cannot. I wanted to see if this was the case with Indrel."

“Aaand?"

“Currently, you do not 'see' any better than the Baxxid." He put another, lighter hood on her. “And now?"

Yannit's eyes went dark, but her other sense could detect a presence, a very faint aura of heat. “I sssee. Ihs weeeak. Fffaint."

“Really?" Ran replied, excitedly scribbling. “Very interesting. Limited perception through thin flax. How about this one?"

The next veil provided even less impediment, her eyes could see a flicker of the light, but her other sense could sense a shape, definable as a Human. “Beeeter. Khan see shaaape."

“Wonderful!" Ran exclaimed. “Equal measure of linen less effective. And this one?"

The next one may as well have not been there. Her vision was blurred, sure, but Ran's form glowed for her other sense clear as day. “Iiihs fuzzy, but khan sssee hyouu."

“Cotton even less effective!" Ran cheered, smiling. “It would seem that Indrel possess a separate sense from even the Baxxid. Tell me Yannit, are you aware of the differences in your sight?"

“Khan sssee ehven without lllight," she said, her mind already working on a solution to her own work. “Sssee heeeat."

“Incredible!" Ran cried, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “So… instead of relying on outside sources of light, you perceive the heat coming off of a body! Heat will travel through many mediums. This is remarkable! Thank you so much for your cooperation, Yannit!"

Yannit pulled off the hood and examined it, smiling. “Khaaan keep?"

“Hm?" Ran glanced at the cotton hood, mildly perplexed. “Of course. I can provide all manner of fabrics, if you like."

“Hyesss," she said, smiling, “Hwill neeed few."

The solution was simple.

She could satisfy her curiosity without alerting the Humans to her presence, all because of a small swatch of fabric. She selected her base of operations carefully, the southside main bathroom always got the most traffic during daylight hours, but was almost deserted at night. Males working on the South Wing would filter in and out throughout the day, attending to their business, as would guards and other staff. The walls upholding the bathroom stalls weren't wood and plaster like the others, but limestone worn to but a few inches thick.

It was perfect.

During the following night, Yannit scoured the wall lining the bathroom stalls, licking and scratching over and over until she'd bored four holes through the stone, large enough for all her eyes to peer through.

She then crawled her way to the other side of the limestone wall and, with the help of her claws and corrosive secretions, carved out four concave apertures around the holes so she could press her face into them, improving her view. The final step was the cotton. She regurgitated a glossy mixture of various secretions to form a resin and applied it to the cotton sheets. It stiffened them until they were hard as paper-thin ceramic tiles. She stuck these over the holes in the wall and her job was done: she now had multiple portals through which she could freely sample the differences in the Human male population, at least until her curiosity had been satisfied.

Yannit was applying the last of the stiff cotton windows when a noise drew her attention.

“Uh…?" She turned around to see a Human male, a bucket in his hand and various cleaning instruments on his back. “What's… what're you doing?"

Yannit thought for a moment before smiling and saying: “Khooock~"

The custodian stared at her for a moment, his face trying several different expression at once before he simply turned around and walked away. “…I'll come back later."

“Phleeeze dooo~" She crooned, turning back to her work.

If the Humans noticed the patches at all, they would not question them, leaving her free to examine and compare their organs at her leisure, safely behind the – to her – transparent medium of the cotton.

It was the perfect plan.

In the morning, she informed Friend Ran that she would be spending additional time in the vents as a 'sooth thing'. Friend Ran accepted this happily, but reminded her to report to him or his attendants every four hours to touch bases regarding her anxiety. Yannit agreed, though those feelings of nameless panic had been far from her mind ever since taking up this endeavor, so satisfying their precautions would be easy. Before she left his lab, she had asked for a small section of parchment for chewing. Indeed, while she did enjoy the flavor and texture of the substance, this would be her first of many notes pads.

While she could, to an extent, see the symbols Humans used to make their thoughts stay, she suspected that Human eyes did so better, and learning to ascribe meaning to the blurry lines would have taken significant time. Instead, she would daube the absorbent parchment with a quantity of her think-feel-want pheromones, committing the information to the substance. This revelation had occurred to her when Friend Ran's word-feather disgorged too much of the word-juice to the parchment, its fragrance more perceptible to her than the scribbles ever were. Once she had completed her study, Yannit intended to mention this innovation to Friend Ran. She smiled when thinking of how he would smile and become excited.

A shadow darkened one of the portals as a Human entered the stall. Yannit chirped quietly in excitement and scuttled over, peering through the portal: the study began.

Hours later and Yannit had arrived at some interesting conclusions.

One: the Humans could, in fact, see her patch work, running their fingers across it. Not that it really mattered, as all dismissed it a second later and resumed their business.

Two: Unlike Indrel, Humans excreted solid and liquid waste separately via different chutes. More interesting to her, the male organ served a double purpose, being used to excrete liquid waste, which most males did standing up. Very interesting.

Three: All male organs were roughly the same shape, a tube terminating in a flap of skin covering a mushroom-shaped crown, on some this flap was missing, but she could tell they were not local. A close subspecies, perhaps? That is where the similarities ended. Variations in every possible dimension existed among the subjects. Some were long, some were short, some were thick, others were thin, and with every possible combination of these factors imaginable, to the point where it seemed like no two were alike.

Yannit peered through the portal and took a note, using her oral glands to make a scent marker that indicated a quantity greater than four tens next to the scent marker labeled 'thumb'. Through her observations, she had been forced to make several different categories, each comparing to the nearest reference point, settling for the digits on their hands. Short and thick were 'thumb' while short and skinny were 'pinky', longer organs of the same general length would be categorized as 'finger', with combinations as necessary. She hadn't anticipated this level of variation, but felt proud of her system for accommodating it.

A shadow darkened one of the stalls and she walked over and peered through, marking 'pinky'. Only ten of those so far! Another Human walked into the far stall, Yannit chittered with interest, this one was almost two finger long, but thick relative to its length like a thumb. She created a new category: 'thumb-finger double'. Very rare.

Her research was coming along nicely.

However…

She thought back to how Friend Clint's organ had changed, going from a 'thumb-finger' to 'thumb-finger triple'. While her system allowed her to note the differences when idle, what about when active? Would they all grow to the extent Friend Clint's had? She had to know! But how…?

A commotion drew her attention. A knocking. A series of short raps in a repeating pattern. She looked through the portal, seeing a male sitting in the stall, knocking on the wooden partition wall. Another, slightly different series of knocks sounded from the other stall, prompting the Human to get on his knees and pull a bundle of fabric from a hole in the partition. Yannit had noticed this plugged hole in this partition, briefly considering patching it, but not knowing its purpose she decided not to. She looked into the other stall, her eyes widening. The Human, whom she now dubbed 'Double', was standing opposite the hole and stimulating himself! She thought back to the other Humans in the stall before. In fact, the other Human, who was now 'Pinky', was indeed the 'cock sucker' from before.

Were they going to…?

She looked back in on Pinky, gasping along with him when Double pushed his now very ready, very warm organ – no, 'cock' – through the hole. Interestingly, Double's cock had only become stiff, its length and width having only marginally increased if at all. So, the rate of growth was also variable. How frustrating.

Pinky leaned forward and took the tip into his mouth, eliciting a moan from Double. His jaw opened as he took more and more of the cock into his mouth, the long, thick organ stretching his jaw and cheeks. Pinky's head bobbed, his lips forming a seal around the shaft, his cheeks sucking in as he did, slurping and popping as he did. The effect was immediate, with Double huffing and panting in the other stall. Pinky's own cock was standing tall, having easily doubled in length and thickness, but still rather modest compared to Double. He pumped his rigid cock as he slurped and slobbered on the impressive member jutting through the hole. He withdrew off the shaft, only keeping the tip in his mouth as he pumped the thick shaft in tandem with his own.

“F-fekk! I'm gonna–" Double wheezed.

Pinky pulled off the organ with a pop, still pumping the slick shaft. Double's cock jerked as seed erupted from the tip, ropes of thick, hot cum splattering across the far wall. Pinky moaned softly, his own cock twitching as white seed squirted out, dribbling down his hand and onto the floor. He grabbed the rag and wiped the wasted seed off the floor, wall, and his hands.

Yannit pulled away from the portal as the Humans exchanged brief, whispered pleasantries, her mind a flurry of new information. She looked down at her tally, the incomplete census. A familiar knocking sounded again, responded to in kind with the same answer: Pinky was at it again, with another male, a 'finger-pinky' that soon became a 'finger-half'. Yannit looked around at the portals she had made, her eyes widening as an idea struck her, a smile pulling at the sides of her mouth.

The man sighed as he walked into the southside latrine. It had been a hard day of work carving new rooms into the teeth. Limestone was a 'soft' rock, sure, but when you had pickaxe in your hand it still felt plenty hard! He shuffled into the far stall and pulled himself out, relieving himself into the latrine. He looked up to see a clump of fabric jutting from the limestone wall. He'd noticed the queer, amateurish patch-job someone had done. He didn't care enough to ask, but he assumed some limp-dick knocked a few holes in the wrong walls and got their nuts steamed but good. Shoddy work, as the patch had already come loose and some comedian had stuffed the ol' 'get your dick sucked' rag in the thing. He wanted to laugh, but with his wife away acquiring textile trade deals and his pay still a few days away, he couldn't even buy a whore! He'd never really leaned that way before, but presently if he could close his eyes and imagine a pretty girl, that would have suited him just fine.

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?'

He blinked, looking about. What was that?

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?'

Sure enough, that was the code-tap for an offer. But he was sure this place was empty. Moreover, everyone knew the middle stall was the one with the hole. So where was it coming from?

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?'

He turned to the rag-stuffed hole in the wall, perplexed. Looking closer, he could see carved into the limestone several 8===D and :) symbols around the hole.

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?'

It was… coming from the wall? The stone wall? Tentatively, he reached up and rapped the standard reply.

'tap-tap-a-rap-tap'

He jerked back when the rag was suddenly yanked into the hole. He leaned down and looked into it, trying to see just who was in there. No luck, it was too late in the day, too dark. He ran his finger around the edge of the hole, the limestone ground down to an almost polished smoothness. It was good craftmanship, someone worked hard on this, carving and polishing the stone.

What was going on?

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?' echoed from the hole.

'I definitely shouldn't stick my dick in there.' He thought to himself. 'However...'

He reached down and worked himself up. It didn't take long, as it'd been a long, hard few weeks without his lady about. He shuffled up to the wall, straddling the throne of the latrine as he slid his dick into the hole. He waited for a moment, his turgid prick throbbing in the open air. And waited… and waited.

“Hey? Uh, whoever's over there?" He said, misgivings giving way to irritation. “You gonna do something with this thing or what?"

He flinched as he felt something soft but firm tap at his shaft, followed by another one prodding the tip. They were soft, sure, but not in the way fingers were. They were… fuzzy? Was someone over there just tapping his cock with a piece of felt or something? Was this just some really elaborate joke? He was preparing to pull out when something hot, slick, and firm ran up the underside of his shaft. It felt like a tongue but also not. Too long, too rigid, but wet and warm and apparently really flexible as it coiled around his shaft, pulling back his foreskin, rolling undulated back on forth on his meaty head, as though polishing it. The stoneworker moaned and rolled his head back, his eyes closed, as he braced himself against the stall.

“Feeek…" He hissed, not entirely sure just what was happening on the other side of the wall beyond it being some of the best head he'd had in ages. “That's more like it…"

Those weird fuzzy things were back, poking and prodding his spit-slick shaft, rummaging around his crotch and pubes, reaching down and jostling his ballsack. They really seemed to like those, rubbing and squeezing and bouncing his balls about, seeming to savor them. He grunted as his head and shaft were pulled into something hot and tight, enveloping him like a sheath, that magical tongue or whatever it was now wrapped firmly around the base of his cock. It slithered down and scooped up his balls, pulling them into something warm and slick but also firm and rigid. As his head and upper shaft were swallowed by firm, massaging flesh, the rest was stroked and squeezed and pumped by that long, flexible tongue, his ballsack teased and jostled, all in a hot, liquid heat that felt almost inhuman, like a fever.

“Fekk me, I-I'm gonna–" He stammered, so caught up in the bizarre, pleasurable experience his building climax had snuck up on him and in record time. “Fekk!"

Loosing a low, throaty groan, his cock jumped, balls clenching as his climax crashed over him in a powerful wave. Jolt after ecstatic jolt of pleasure surged through him as spurt after spurt of hot cum erupted from his cock. The smooth, slick flesh wrapped around him, undulating and squeezing as his seed was eagerly swallowed. He panted and cursed in a dazed, hushed tone his orgasm tapered off, belatedly stepping back from the hole. Whatever was wrapped around his cock reluctantly released him with a muted slurp. He backed away from the hole in the wall, huffing. He looked down at his crotch, whoever –or whatever– was on the other side of the wall had handily sucked all the warm slippery slobber from his flesh, leaving only a dim sheen on his prick and sack.

He crouched down and peered into the hole, trying his best to parse the darkness on the other side. He almost cried out when a multitude of glowing orange eyes met his. The two eyed one another up for a moment, silent.

The silence was broken when he spoke. “Uh… thanks? That was… uh…"

“Wwwelcome…" An inhuman voice rasped from the hole. It wasn't a squeaky Yinglet chirp, nor that deep 'I feel that in my eyeballs' flanging of a Baxxid, but high-toned and buzzing, like a delicate reed instrument trying to talk. “Waaas hhhelpful very."

“Helpful?"

“Aaam learning," it said. “Abouuut Hhhumans."

“Learning about humans…" He arched an eyebrow. “…By sucking dick in a latrine?"

“Hyes."

Gods, this situation was surreal, but in for a copper. “Learning what?"

“Kkkhomparing hhhuman male depositorsss," it replied, before correcting. “Khocks."

“Comparing dicks? Like, size and stuff?"

“Hhyes," it said. “Mmmuch difference. Mmuch chaaange soft and hhhard. Hham researching."

He blushed and cleared his throat. “Um, so, how do I measure up?"

“Hyyou are firrrst," it said, almost sounded apologetic. “Hhwill let hhyou knowww."

He paused, rapping his fingers against the limestone. “What if I, say, spread word about this research of yours? I won't tell anyone you're, uh, whatever you are, just that you suck cock better than a concubine. Would that help?"

A series of trilling buzzes and clicks ensued, sounding somewhere between a cricket and a cymbal. “Wwwould help muuuch very!"

He smirked, leaning on the wall. “And if I do this, could I, say, swing by here whenever I want?"

“Aaas much as waaant," the thing purred. “Eeenjoyed youuur khock very very."

He puffed his chest out at this. “Well, alright then! See you tomorrow!"

“Khaaan not go agaaain now?" It inquired, a curious lilt in its voice.

He paused; this thing really was just learning the ins-and-outs of, well, in-and-out. “Well, most Human men can't go again until, I dunno, an hour or so after. Have to refill the granary, you know?"

“Nnnot know…" said the wall-thing over the sound of rustling parchment. “Iiinteresting very. Thhhank you."

He turned to leave before stopping. “Wait! Are you a… 'girl' whatever you are?"

“Hyyes?" She replied. “Aaam female? Hhhis that prrroblem?"

“No! No problem!" He said, somewhat relieved, having avoided the temptation of sodomy for one more day. “Makes it better, in fact!"

“Beeetter?" She trilled. “Feeemale hhiis better?"

“Yeah! Er, for me, anyway. Some men prefer men, I guess. But for a mouth like yours they'll make an exception!" He moved to walk out of the stall before turning around and winking at her. “Same time tomorrow, uh, babe?"

“Baaabe? Babe. Hyesss. Asss much aaas hyou caaan, Baaabe."

With that, he took his leave, fully intending to spread the word. He could get a solid nut out every day, but the perplexed and confounded looks on his coworkers' faces after he sends them her way would be its own reward. There had to be some way for him to teach his wife that tongue-trick.

The past two days had proven most informative.

First: the flaccid state of the organ more often than not held little bearing on the size of the functional form. Some would appear impressive in all dimensions, only to merely stiffen, whereas others could go from 'pinky' to 'thumb-double finger', or two-fingers long and with a 1:4 thickness-length ratio.

Second: her reference points made for inconsistent measurements, as human hands and fingers varied almost as much as their depositors! To rectify this, during one of her sessions with Friend Ran she made a point to inquire as to what, if any, measurements humans held as relevant. To this end, Friend Ran provided various tools and scales to use as reference points. The standard of human measurements was the 'meter' with endless divisions or multiplications available in factors of ten. Yannit had taken one of Ran's 1/5 meter measurement sticks and inserted it into her mouth, mentally noting the beginning and termination and dividing the sensation into segments of 20 and each of those segments into bunches of 10s. She repeated the process when it came to accessing the circumference of various objects.

Friend Ran had watched her do this, perplexed but fascinated.

Regardless, he was eager to assist her in her endeavor, likely to satisfy his own curiosity. By the end of their experiments, Friend Ran happily noted that her esophagus could comfortably accept a unit measuring 20cm long by 20cm in circumference, with larger objects prompting the inclination to regurgitate and chew. The dimensions, so clean in numbers, struck Yannit as ideal for some reason. He began to go on about how such a feature could benefit creatures in the habit of swallowing mouthfuls whole and on and on.

Yannit hadn't been listening: she had all she needed now.

She sat at her station now, waiting for the next subject to arrive. Her antennae perked up as a male walked into the stall. She waited for him to do his business when an impatient hand poked the bundled rag out. A grumble sounded followed by a male organ pressing through the hole.

Word had, indeed, spread.

“Lessee what all the fuss is about, then," grumbled a voice on the other side of the wall. “Wow me, bitch."

Yannit chittered in irritation at his tone. Most males were curious, trepidatious, or apprehensive. The other males were returners, males that enjoyed her research, the number of which was increasing by the day. They were functionally useless to her research, but she was happy to review prior studies.

For scientific accuracy, of course.

This was a new one, his scent unfamiliar, and brusque demeanor unwelcome. Did he doubt her research acumen? In the past 2 days, exactly 66 separate males had participated in her survey, and not one had failed to eject seed!

“Well?" He said. “Get on with it!"

Yannit scowled at the presented organ. It was unimpressive, short and thin, but she'd learned by now that in this state that meant little. She leaned forward, her mouthparts splitting, her two main mandibles connected by a taut, firm, slick membrane. She scooped that odd, orb-filled sack up into the membrane, her long, black tongue snaking around the limp shaft, undulating and squeezing as she did. The effect was immediate, his organ doubling in length and trebling in girth, almost intruding on the back of her tongue.

She took her notes: 13cm length. Below average, given the sample size.

She looped her tongue around the shaft, working it up and down: 13cm mean circumference, somewhat above average.

Yannit pressed her face into the concave cavity she'd carved into the stone, fully enveloping his length and sack, prompting a gratifying gasp from the human. She set about her usual process, her tongue working the shaft as her throat worked away on the sensitive crown. Her tongue trailed down shaft, snaking about the skin-sack, jostling and juggling the orbs within. Her affront at the male's initially brusque demeanor melted away as she sampled the organ. The sack, the shaft, the fragrant bushel of coarse curly hairs, all were suffused with dense, heady pheromones. Merely sampling a human male in the heat of rut would flush from her mind any and all feelings of anxiety and panic.

Her desire to attack, to bite and rip and tear, all were replaced with… what? Not aggression. Not violence. Not a need to protect or guard or attack. But a need. A deep need. One that ached and throbbed within her in a way she'd never felt before. Like hunger, a deep aching void in her abdomen, but not. Like an itch, but inside her somewhere. She knew that she desperately wanted something, anything, to fill some empty space within her hindquarters. She needed something to reach in deep that in and scratch that wanting, empty space inside her.

Oh well! She'd make due with this for now.

She bobbed her head, peeling back the flap of protective skin covering the proud crown of his cock. His shaft was above average, but the head was well beyond that, fat and broad with a pronounced fleshy furl: 14cm if her mind was not wandering. But it was. She knew it was. That smell, that taste, was trebled, and with it its effects. That was always the most potent part, the shiny, angry mushroom-like tip. It always smelled and tasted the strongest of all. Every time it made her head swim, her eyes wander. What was it about that area that effected her so strongly?

“F-fekk…" The male gurgled. “Damn…"

Her mouth was suddenly filled with tangy, salty, musky seed, squirting out of his depositor in a pulsing stream. She pulled back and coated her tongue mouth with it before swallowing.

No matter the variances in size or shape, every male would give her hot mouthful of clarity and she thanked them for that.

The patron grunted and pulled out his shrinking dick. “A-a'right, yer pretty good."

His tone had changed, gone was the impatient, skeptical edge. It would have been gratifying if she had been listening. But Yannit wasn't listening, still basking in the satisfaction, the calm, she had just received. “Yheh."

She sighed, her eyes half-open and dreamy. She couldn't quite admit to liking the *flavor*, as it was often bitter, astringent, and unpleasantly akin to the eye-jelly of tiplods in texture. But she loved it. Craved it. Of all the scents and substances Friend Ran had pushed her way, nothing but fresh hot male human issue could quell that constantly bubbling well of fear and isolation. Nothing but that smell, that taste, that texture, could fully quell her restlessness, her feelings of isolation. Indeed, since she had devoured Friend Clint's seed-rag, she'd not known a single moment free of that true, deep, atavistic panic.

Had she found her sooth-thing? Were her fascinating experiments with Friend Ran at an end? She hoped not. Friend Ran always had something new and interesting to show her.

…Friend Ran was a male. She briefly pondered what his measurements were…

No. She needed to inquire further, to research and test before she presented her findings to him. Would just one deposit of male issue be sufficient to last her a day? Many days? A week? Since her experiment began in earnest just two days ago, she'd been blessed with the issue of 67 separate humans, with ever more walking in every day. Did she have to perpetually consume vast quantities of human seed to maintain her sanity? The idea of being fed an unending stream of human males, each with their unique organs, interesting smells, and eagerly given seed was not unappealing, but probably unrealistic.

Number 68 walked in. “This, uh, this the place? The place where the, uh, stuff happens?"

Yannit was shaken from her contemplations with a jolt, cocking her head.

“I-I thought it was a joke," he laughed, his voice high and uncertain, likely young. “Fekk, it's a joke, isn't it?"

Yannit rolled her eyes, pulling the cloth out of the hole and rapping her claws against the the stone: 'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?'

A short, happy gasp sounded, followed shortly by a cock being shoved through the hole. The hardness, the eagerness of it surprised her, the thing throbbed and twitched like no other before, even the hairs about the base and along the sack were finer, softer-looking. Even the smell had a lightness to it, thin but sharp. Did humans change in potency of scent with age? How fascinating!

She wasted little time engulfing this new organ, her tongue exploring it with vigor, causing the young human to squeak and squirm.

12 x 11cm, fresh and new-tasting.

Two days later and her project was nearing its conclusion. Ever since her first foray and his willingness to 'spread the word', things had picked up. Since she began, she had personally measured 144 unique males, with 91 reoccurring across that span. A reasonably-sized reference pool, she felt. Not comprehensive, as Friend Ran estimated that at any given time the Teeth held between 500 and 800 males, but 18-28% of that number should provide viable data for a census.

Still… 200 would be better. One more day would likely round out that nicely.

A subject entered, his clothing rustling as he set about his business. She tapped out the standard preposition and, quite suddenly, a very hard, very familiar cock poked the rag out of the hole: the first member of her census, a Human she'd dubbed 'Babe'. In the past 4 days Babe had returned no less than 8 times. She liked Babe. He would whisper funny stories to her about how her research effected his colleagues, how she'd 'ruined' them for other gloryholes.

Yannit did not know what a 'gloryhole' was, but it had the word 'glory' in it and apparently hers put all others to shame. She swelled with pride.

“Hey, babe," he whispered. “Got time for a review?"

She replied by opening her mouth, tongue-tip snaking under his foreskin, wrapping around his head completely without peeling it back: a trick she'd learned just the previous night.

He gasped and shuddered, audibly slumping against the wall. Still, he managed to keep his voice down. “Fffff… th-that's a new one. Damn! I h-hear–ah!–you've been busy…"

She leaned in and swallowed Babe's cock entirely, her throat massaging his tip while her tongue worked the shaft, careful to firmly squeeze his sack with her mandibles, just how he liked it.

“Fekk, babe, you keep this up, I'm gonna have to figure out how to get back there and fekk you properly…" He groaned. “If this is what you can do with your mouth, I can only imagine what your pussy is like."

Yannit blinked in surprise, continuing in her 'research' as her mind wandered.

Her what? Pussy? What was that? Oh! Babe knew she was female. That must be what they call the receptacle. Pussy. Fun-sounding word, different from the hard sibilants of 'cock'. It was more reserved sounding. 'Cock' was hard-sound, intrusive, like a, well, a cock, while 'pussy' was more delicate, softer. Yannit couldn't help but buzz a giggle at the appropriateness.

Babe noticed her amusement. “F-fekk! That! Do that, babe, keep doing that!"

She quirked her antennae in interest. Her voice felt good? She supposed it would, as her buzzers had to click so very hard to make Human words. She continued buzzing and Babe loosed a comical high-pitched squeak as he ejaculated into her mouth with unprecedented force. She withdrew and allowed him to paint her mouthparts with the addictive issue, her tongue lavishing his head with long, sloppy strokes as it loosed rope after rope of seed. She pulled him back in one more time, to suck her saliva and any errant jizz off his balls and shaft. The smell and taste of it was wonderful, calming, but coming from a friend like Babe, she felt gratified for having brought him pleasure.

“Damn, babe, what was that?" He whispered into the hole, still panting slightly. “That tingling thing you did?"

“Lllaughing," she replied, quietly. “Aaat khock."

He suddenly became very serious. “What do you mean."

“Wwword khock," she said, blithely. “Ssso hhhard sounding. Lllike hhhard khock. Hhis funny."

“Oh… oh!" He said, forcing a chuckle. “I thought you were laughing at my–you know what, nevermind."

“Hhokay," she said. “Baaabe khock always niiice. Khooome back alwaaays."

Babe paused for a moment before saying. “You're a girl whatever you are, right?"

Yannit cocked her head, she'd already told him as much. “Hhhyes? Am feeemale."

“But you only ever, like, use your mouth?" He said, before muttering. “At least I think that's your mouth…"

“Hhyes," she replied. “Hhis mouth. Hhwat else?"

“Y'know, your… lady parts?" He said, hesitantly. “I'm just saying, you may as well get something out of this too, you know?"

“Lllady parrrts?" She cocked her head, glancing back to the gap between the pincers on her abdomen. “Dddon't understaaand?"

Babe paused. “Look, babe, I'm married, happily married, okay?"

Yannit had no idea what 'married' meant, but went along with it. “Hhokay?"

He leaned in and whispered. “But if I wasn't, I wouldn't mind coming back there and fekking you senseless, no matter what you are."

Yannit said nothing, her eyes wide. Why hadn't she thought of that? Even though she was infertile, her anatomy was identical to those that were as far as she knew. Why not use… that?

“Babe?" Babe inquired, whispering. “You still there?"

“Hhyes," she said. “Yyyou would… fffekk me?"

“Uh, well, I would," he said, coughing awkwardly. “But I'm married."

“Hhwat is 'maaarried'?"

“Uh, it's, y'see, uh…" He paused for a moment, before saying. “A Human woman considers me her territory."

Oh… Of course! With Human males and females being so complimentary in populations, it would make sense for a single female to claim a single male as her own. “Hhhyes hhI see. Nnno fekking theeen?"

“Not from me," he said, chuckling. “But hey, on your side of the wall, you decide what goes where, right?"

Yannit glanced over her shoulder at her pincers, the space between them. Didn't she feel hungry back there when researching? Didn't she feel like she was empty? The taste and smell of Human seed calmed her mind, certainly, but she had been increasingly aware of something else, another form of tension building within her, like she'd only eaten half as much as she should, partially sated but still hungry.

She turned back to the hole, her tone desperate. “Fffekk phleeeze? Feeemale not knooow."

Babe chuckled and pushed his limp organ back into his breeches. “Do I look like a Scav to you? I'm spent! Besides, you've got plenty of others after me… oh, and one more thing…"

“Hhyesss, Babe?"

“How do I, y'know, measure up?"

Yannit paused, the average was 15cm in length by 13cm in girth. Babe measured in at almost exactly 16 by 16. Above average, and in nice, clean, even numbers. “Biiiger. Looonger little, but thicker very. Wwwould fekk very."

“Oh," he muttered. “Good."

“Wwwould fekk?" She asked, hopefully.

“Sorry, babe, I'm spoken for," he said, chuckling, stuffing the rag back in before walking out of the stall. She cocked her head to hear as he addressed someone outside the stall. “Strap in, twink. She's learned some new tricks."

“What?" Was the reply.

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap' Babe knocked on the stall before leaving. “Have fun."

“…Asshole," was the muttered reply as he entered the stall, pulling out his prick to urinate.

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?'

“Uh…" The Human looked up to see the previously plugged hole open. “What?"

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap?'

He stood up rapidly. “Oh shit! Is this the place with the thing?!"

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap!'

“Right, sorry!" He said, hurriedly standing up and pressing his junk into the hole which she readily accepted.

18cm by 10cm. An odd one, it needed to be added to the list.

It had been some hours since Babe had been his usual helpful self. She hadn't taken his advice. Yannit did not know why. She was absent-minded, distracted. Where was her research even going? She looked down at the parchment, it read '211 samples, 148 reoccurring. Must fekk Babe. Remove rival by any means'

She turned away from the parchment. Her mind went to strange places when pacified, no, *saturated* with her new soothe-thing. She felt like they were… hers, somehow. They didn't need their females, they had her. And she would happily see to their needs every day, however she could.

But…

She had not yet tried Babe's suggestion, to use her 'lady parts'. Her female organ. No Human seemed right to her. Some were big, some were small, most were more or less exactly in between with endless variations. But none were right. Not for this.

Why did Babe have to 'married'?

It was late in the day and the Humans were beginning to thin out. Yannit prepared to pack her things and leave. She had to touch bases with Friend Ran regarding her mental state. She was tempted to reveal her research to him tonight, but was strangely hesitant. Her research had blossomed from a simple anatomical survey into an extension of Friend Ran's experiments. He would no doubt be overjoyed to learn she had found a foolproof method of quelling her anxiety and panic but it felt incomplete, somehow.

Something was missing.

As she turned to leave a Human entered her stall, muttering. “What fresh hell is this? Was the gloryhole in the stall over not enough for those horny dogs?"

That voice. It was familiar… Friend Clint!

“Not that anyone's ever around for ol' Clint anyway…" He grumbled, relieving himself.

Yannit rushed over. Friend Clint was the one who started this whole endeavor! How appropriate he be the one to finish it!

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap!'

“Huh?" Clint grunted.

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap!'

He paused, no doubt trying to locate the source of the sound. “What… where?"

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap!'

“Is someone back there?"

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap!'

Clint paused for a moment before sighing. “Eh. Why not?"

'rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap rap-rap-a-rap-a-tap-tap!'

“Hold your tiplods, slut!" He chuckled, stepping up to the hole. “I got what you want right here."

Yannit trembled with excitement, reaching up to pull out the rag when Friend Clint's cock shove in through the hole. She gazed upon it for a moment. The first one she'd ever seen, standing there, throbbing. It was beautiful. Yannit tapped and rubbed it with her antennae, that rich familiar musk now stronger, more potent than ever before. A fuzzy antenna brushed the partially exposed tip, the pheromones there so strong they tingled, making her feel lightheaded and woozy, but stronger than that was the hunger. The Indrel lunged forward, fully engulfing the entire thing, shaft and balls, in a single motion.

“Holy shit!" Friend Clint exclaimed in alarm. “What the–whoooooa… feeeekk…"

Perfect. It was perfect. Yannit's eyes rolled up at the delicious pressure of his huge, fat crown pressing against the far back of her throat, the pleasurable stretch of her esophagus. 20cm long by 20cm girth. Perfect, even numbers. It was the ideal note on which to end her research. She pulled back, her tongue throttling the thick shaft best it could, coiling around the still-covered glans and peeling back the taut shiny foreskin. She almost fainted when the strong, heady musk hit her, drool pouring from her mouthparts as she set about squeezing, stroking, lavishing the sensitive bulb with slick laps. That fat crown had to be 22cm in circumference! More! She needed more! She was so…

Hungry.

Yannit felt something strange, then. A pressure at the end of her abdomen, something pushing out, swelling. She pulled herself off Friend Clint's magnificent cock and looked back, lifting her abdomen to a slick, shiny furl of flesh between her pincers. The Human's cock twitched and jumped, sending a fresh waft of musk into her antennae, causing her to swoon, a gush of clear thick fluids squirted from her revealed receptacle. She was so hungry she was drooling from both ends!

Hungry? No… Horny!

“H-hey…" Friend Clint panted. “Why'd you stop?"

Yannit wasted no time, spinning about and kneeling, no, kowtowing to that cock, raising her receptacle up to it, kissing that thick crown with her lips, shuddering as she felt its heat on her flesh. She pressed back, feeling her willing but tiny orifice struggle to accept the massive intruder. Her pincers shot up, grabbing the slick organ before it could slide away from its target. Friend Clint flinched and began to ask something when his fat cockhead popped in, causing them both to gasp. Yannit buzzed, her head thudding against the floor with a dull 'clack'

This was it. What she'd needed this whole time. She needed more.

So she took it.

Yannit pushed off the floor and slammed her abdomen backwards, sheathing Friend Clint's cock in her hot, needy hole. Yannit froze, lights exploding behind her eyes as she felt her body stretch almost to its breaking point, some fragile membranes straining as his magnificently hard, thick member was buried deep within. Then, just as some part of her lust-addled mind began to worry about the potential for injury, her body accepted him. Within her were several apparently stiff, hard structures similar in dimensions to her opening. These structures had been cruelly, brutally crushed by Friend Clint's thick, mercilessly unyielding cock upon insertion, holding out bare moments before accepting him. All at once, they gave way, opening and sliding over his head and shaft in a rapid series of pops. Eight in total.

Yannit would have made note of this on her pad, were she not presently face down on the floor, her eyes dazed, half-lidded, drool flowing out of her slack mouthparts. Despite her flesh having yielded to the intruder, it had not ceased its assault. Just by being there, inside her, his cock was stretching her, throbbing and twitching within her, the stimulation was constant and intense, flooding her body with hot jolts of pleasure from every square centimeter of her brutally stretched receptacle.

No.

Her pussy.

“H-holy fekkin' shit on a s-scav's back…" Friend Clint stammered, panting. “What the fuck even is that? H-how're you doing that?"

Yannit willed herself out of her trance, focusing her mind on one singular task. How was she doing what? She had not yet begun to fekk this hot slab of juicy meat! Was she already so exceptional compared to their females? Yannit rumbled with triumph. She would make Friend Clint forget all about Lady Talleraine's mammaries! She would make every Human male she accommodated want nothing but her mouth and pussy! They would be hers, all of them.

Yannit purred and clicked as she squeezed and massaged, her muscles back there stiff and atrophied from a tragic lifetime of under-use, her female organ feebly suckling and gripping the sensitive male inside her. She rumbled in satisfaction, every shape and contour of Friend Clint's cock being etched into her mind from this new place, with new sensations and textures setting the experience apart from her oral samplings.

In her mouth, scent and flavor were the main draws, with things like length and width being secondary concerns and the resultant seed the end goal. But back there, the dimensions of the organ were of paramount concern! She conceded that perhaps Friend Clint was several standard deviations too large for her first foray into mating. Indeed, there were times where her ministrations risked pain, or at least unpleasant pressure and strain. It was statistically likely her next Human paramour would be of much less impressive dimensions and therefore more easily and pleasurably handled.

Part of her pondered a follow-up study, using only her pussy in order to more thoroughly assess the health and vitality of the Human male population.

For science, of course.

Not to say Friend Clint's member was unsatisfactory! Far from it! Every squeeze and massage on her part sent dizzying jolts of pleasure through her whole body. His every throb and errant twitch set off lights behind her eyes! He was just a little… much. Too much stimulation, too fast, and too early. She needed time to adjust. Time to explore this new part of her. Time to experiment and compare and contrast.

“Fekk me!" Friend Clint exclaimed. “Sorry, I just gotta–"

Friend Clint pushed off the wall with a grunt, his cock withdrawing from her tight, hot pussy with a barely audible series of wet, slurping pops. Yannit buzzed and squealed at those many sensitive rings, still adjusting to his girth, were forced to stretch anew as his bulbous tip yanked out of her. But not all the way. That tip stopped at her entrance as though stuck. Yannit felt a sudden pang of dread; what if Friend Clint was going to depart? To leave her in this agitated state, so far along but lacking that unnamable satisfaction she–

He thrust back in.

Yannit jolted forward, her headplate clacking on the stone floor. Every sensation from before had returned all at once. The stretching, the popping, the friction and burn as her virgin pussy was pushed to its absolute limits.

All at once.

She came, suddenly and explosively.

The sensation was indescribable. At once her body tensed, became tight and rigid, but throughout her form was a flow, a surge of warm, liquid heat, filling her and pushing outwards. She felt like an engorged replete filled to bursting with hot liquid pleasure. This pressure found an out, a release, as she both felt and heard a rush of pressurized juices spray out around Friend Clint's thick shaft, pattering in the floor.

“Fekk! Some of that got on me!" Friend Clint cried, chuckling. “Like that, did ya?"

He pulled out and did it again and again and again. It was all Yannit could do to stay upright, some deep instinctual part of her using every last scrap of willpower to keep her abdomen pressed against the hole in the wall as Best Friend Clint ravaged her pussy. All those delicate, sensitive parts mercilessly stretched and pounded and stirred, her limits met and exceeded with every thrust. If this was how Bestest Friend Clint mated through a hole in a wall, imagine how much more thoroughly he could breed her without it! Holding her in his big strong arms as he slammed into her hot, dripping hole. Her arms around his neck, her legs around his midsection, her antenna feeling his dense curly hair–

She was cumming again.

Yannit screeched into the dry, dusty floor, her claws digging into the soft sandstone like it was clay, her love-juices splattering against the wall and pattering to the floor like rain. The dull thud of Good Bestest Fekking Friend Clint's hips hitting the wall echoed in the backroom, underscored by the unending slurping and squelching sounds of their bodies meeting, both happily and greedily fulfilling their purpose, only in a way they were not intended. Yannit, in a moment of lucidity that had not yet been ruthlessly fekked out of her, briefly lamented that she would likely never experience this bliss with a male of her own kind, would never satisfy this need and longing in the way nature intended.

She came again, harder than ever before.

Oh well!

Fekk-Legend Bestest Friend Clint buried himself to the root in her, rotating his hips so that the far end of his long, thick cock drew large, wide circles deep insider her. He loosed a series of throaty, panting huffs before stopping his heedless rutting. His cock jumped and throbbed as she felt long, strong pulses of seed pump deep into her, mixing in with her interminable surges of hot bug cum. Something in the seed set of a reaction within her, a deep, resonant state of calm, of clarity, similar to how she felt after consuming seed, but infinitely more potent. With one last explosive climax, Yannit slumped forward, her lover's cock springing from her with a lewd, echoing 'pop', still jumping and twitching, ejecting rope after rope of Human cum. She lay on the floor, her mind locked within a limp, useless body, head swimming as every climax she had experienced before washed over her over and over again, slowly fading like an echo in a cave.

“Damn, that was…" Official Best Fekker in the Teeth Clint said from the other side of the wall. “I mean, I heard things, but… heh! Hey, lady or whatever you are, if you wanna put one of these holes in my room, I won't say no!"

Yannit said nothing, unable to, only capable of twitching.

“Uh…?" Now Property of Yannit Clint said, uncertainly. “You okay in there, uh, whatever you are?"

Yannit willed herself out of her trance, getting up off the floor on trembling limbs, nearly slipping in the sizable puddle of her cum pooling at the foot of the wall. “Hhyesss… ahhm good VERY."

“Okay. Good. Uh… what are you, anyway?"

“Ahhhm rrresearcher," she managed to say, her eyes blinking out of sequence. “Ahhm making study. Fffor guillld."

Clint scoffed. “A study that involves–?"

“Hyes," she said, tersely. “Ihs imporrrtant. Wwwant to know howww hyou diiid?"

“Uh, yeah?" Clint said, curious. “What, did I win something?"

“Hyes," she said, licking her chops. “Wwwon hole in wall?"

Master Fekker Clint paused. “…What, seriously? I was joking about that."

“Not wwwant?"

“I'd rather you didn't knock a hole in my wall," said Friend Clint, flatly. “I could lose my damage deposit."

“Ohhh."

“Buuut…" He said, smirking. “How about you, uh, keep this one open on nightshifts? Sound good?"

“Sssounds liiike fuhhn~" She crooned.

Ran sat behind his desk, scribbling his next field guide to be copied and distributed among the populace. This particular treatise would address the potential of an Indrel population establishing itself in Val Salia. Indeed, a new colony of the creatures had established themselves in a nearby valley. Excitingly, this colony had displayed an unprecedented willingness to interact with Human traders and caravaners, to the extent that they actively sought interactions with Humans outside of guiding them through their territory. The Trading Guild had jumped at the opportunity, as this particular valley ran a full two thirds of the range, with the rest being relatively easy terrain to traverse. With full Indrel cooperation, Val Salia could become an east-west trading hub on par with its north-south and seafaring endeavors!

Needless to say, Trademaster Veracroix had made it clear that he was prepared to give Ran full leave to conduct all manner of experiments with their resident Indrel with no mention of overhead. Which suited the svelte researcher just fine, for while the shine of gold and silk swathes lit up the eyes of Val Salia's ruling body, it was the light of knowledge that glowed most brightly. Any opportunity to add to Humanity's understanding of the world was to Ran sweeter than any rare perfume or incense.

Now, if only there was some way to reliably stabilize their resident Indrel, the true social experimentation could commence.

The door to his office opened with a creak, a pair of antennae poked through, sampling the air. Ah, speak of the devil!

“Ah, good morning, Yannit!" Ran exclaimed, setting down his quill. “Just the person I wanted to see! Do come in!"

Yannit opened the door, a small bundle of parchment in her claws. Ran cocked an eyebrow; she seem… different. The set of her shoulders, the stance of her legs, her body language in general seemed more relaxed, open. She strolled, no, strutted towards him, a placid smile on her hard-yet-expressive face. Ran was always hesitant to apply Human traits to their non-Human cohorts, but at that point Yannit seemed distinctly… triumphant?

“You seem to be in good spirits today, Yannit," he said as she made her way over, pointing at the parchment. “What's that you've got there?"

“Rrresearch," the bug trilled, her hard clicky voice now softer somehow, more placid and reserved. “Forrr days, diiid science like Friend Raaan. Did ehhhksperiments, many. Took notes, very."

“Research? Science?" Ran said, grinning. “Experiments? Notes? Yannit, that's amazing! I didn't realize you had such an appetite for the field! This is wonderful!"

“Rrresearch much fun," said Yannit, her smile no longer that blithe, curious expression she normally wore. If Ran didn't know better, he'd swear she was smirking. “Much fun, very."

“I see," said Ran, pointing the parchments in her claws. “And what, exactly, were you researching? You took notes? May I see them?"

“Whhas noting differences in aaanatomy between Hhhumans," she said, handing him the parchments. “Lllearn much."

He examined the parchments, each one blotted and stained with off-green and yellow secretions with the odd splash of dried, yellowish crust. “…I see."

“Nnnot know Hhuman word-signs," said Yannit, pointing to the stains. “Inssstead put thought-smells on parchmeeent."

Ran's eyes opened wide at this, a huge smile on his face. “Of course! Yannit, that's brilliant! With this method, we can send all manner of messages to all Indrel colonies we encounter. First contact will be much easier and safer this way."

Yannit smiled and puffed up at this, tapping the paper. “Dissscover much. Found sssoothe-thing."

Ran gasped, delighted; this day was just getting better and better! “You did? You found a method of curing your deprivation anxiety?

She trilled a laugh. “Mmmany methods."

“Wonderful!" Ran said, pulling out an official Val Salian document. “I will pen up a missive to Trademaster Veracroix recommending that you be brought on as an official member of the Val Salian Research and Discovery Guild! This is momentous!"

“Aaand my nnnotes?" Yannit inquired, excitedly. “Nnneed translaaate? For Friend Ran to rrread?"

“Oh?" Ran paused before chuckling. “Of course! Silly me! I got well ahead of myself. Of course, Yannit, I will assign a scribe to you to dictate your notes and findings. I can't tell you how amazing this development is!"

“Thhhxxxank you, Friend Ran," buzzed Yannit, obviously overjoyed at this reaction. “Wiiill get to wooork fast, very!"

Some time later…

Ran sat behind his desk, writing up the request to the Trademaster, to bring Yannit on as an official researcher.

This was momentous!

That a non-Human, of her own initiative, carried out and replicated the Human scientific method was incredible, to say nothing of her findings. The fact that there had been no news of an Indrel disturbing the population suggested that she was either exceptionally discreet, observant, or both. Moreover, her discovery of committing Indrel communication pheromones to parchment was itself an unqualified breakthrough! Travelers could now carry with them legible messages to friendly or neutral colonies, or present to hostile or uncontacted colonies declaration of peaceful intent. Add to that the fact that Yannit had obviously discovered a remedy to her isolation madness, it was entirely possible that formal diplomatic relations could soon be established with the Indrel.

Ran knew that the mere appeal to knowledge and science would not move the ruling body of Val Salia, so he had drummed up several potential boons such freer trade through the mountains, the safe and large-scale movement of peoples and goods through the otherwise treacherous terrain would fill their coffers nicely. For the mining guilds, further cooperation with the largely subterranean race could prove most useful. He postulated the Indrel no doubt unearthed many resources in the excavation of their tunnels, resources such as ore, coal, and gemstones that would be useless to them, but valuable to Humanity.

Oh yes, this was going to be an easy sell.

“Er, Head Researcher?" A voice said. “I've completed the translations of the Indrel's, er... findings."

Ran looked up to see one of his scribes, a young man by the name of Driden. He held a substantial stack of parchments in his hands. “Oh! All that from just those few pages? The Indrel must be able to commit far more information with their pheromones than we can with our representative symbology! Fascinating!"

“Yes…" Driden said, looking distinctly uneasy. “Very, er, fascinating. She was exceptionally… thorough in her documentation and methodology, Head Researcher."

“Oh?" Ran said, beckoning him over. “Well, let's see it, then! I'm positively beside myself with anticipation!"

Driden handed him the stack of notes, watching as Ran's eyes darted across the first page, his face dropping as he did. “Oh my."

“Shall I alert the authorities, Head Researcher?"

“Hm? Oh no, no no no! No harm has been done, after all," Ran said as he shuffled through the notes, his initial shock giving way to honest admiration. “Goodness, she is remarkably thorough, isn't she? A natural born researcher, choice of subject matter and 'methodology' notwithstanding, of course. Actually… some of this information may be useful to the Physician's Guild."

“What will the next course of action be, Head Researcher?" Driden said, uneasily, knowing full well that Ran's curiosity could land them all in a scandal. “I mean, we should continue to search for alternatives to her anxiety issues, yes? There's no way that this method is tenable… or ethical."

“Leave that to me, Driden," said Ran, reading through the final few pages of Yannit's 'Humans: Why?: A Treatise on the Anatomical Variances of Human Males'. “Of course we will continue our research, for its own sake at the very least. But a solution has been provided and we cannot risk the safety of others over subjective matters such as propriety. I will note and log Yannit's findings and dispense them to the appropriate parties. Then, I will continue with my petition to bring Yannit on as a researcher. Understood?"

Driden sighed and nodded, bowing shallowly. “Yes, Head Researcher. If she is to be our cohort going forward, perhaps it would be wise to advise her against, er, prepositioning the staff."

“Of course," said Ran, chuckling lightly as he thumbed to a particular page. “That said, the report indicates a 70% rate of recidivism among the test subjects, so the experience seems far from traumatizing. An open mind is the hallmark of any good researcher, you know!"

“Sir?"

“You may go, now, Driden," said Ran, resuming his writing. “Thank your for your efforts."

Some days later, a new informational poster from the Val Salian Research Department was posted to the public forums. It read:

“Greetings citizens! The Val Salian Research Department has, by the grace and wisdom of the Veracroix Dynasty, undertaken a new recruit to its Interspecies Research Team. This new member is to be afforded all honors and courtesies appropriate to her rank. When approached by this new recruit, citizens are advised to cooperate with her and her team in the interests of furthering diplomatic relations with our mountain-faring neighbors. Participation in these experiments will be entirely voluntary and volunteers will generously compensated for their time and effort. However, it should be noted that a strict Nondisclosure Agreement will be mandated per participant prior to the dispensation of compensation. Violation of this agreement will result in the retraction of aforementioned compensation as well as a hefty fee and/or prison time. The Val Salian Government thanks all its citizens for their dedication and commitment to making our city the shining beacon of knowledge and progress the world over.

Signed: Head Researcher Ran Ste-Su G'Mindel

Below it was a missive from the Val Salian Board of Health and Safety and the Guild of Construction and Masonry. It read:

“Employees and Visitors to The Teeth: it has come to our attention that unknown person/persons have taken it upon themselves to install additional portals in the walls of certain restrooms. THIS IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. Whomever engaged this unauthorized structural alterations are strongly advised to cease their activities lest a formal investigation be undertaken. Punitive measures will be employed. Furthermore, it is the informed opinion of the Health and Safety Board that citizens refrain from inserting any limb or protuberance into these unauthorized portals, as there is a potential risk to health and sanitation for all involved. The offending portals have since been plastered over. CITIZENS SHOULD NOT ATTEMPT TO REOPEN THEM. Any further questions or inquiries by citizens effected by this phenomenon shall henceforth be directed to the Interspecies Research Team.

Signed: Dr. Haymich Senti of the Board of Health and Safety, Gaal D'tan-Su of the Guild of Construction and Masonry.