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Cultural Critical Art

Bang bang bang.

Oh no.

In Lunar Colony Mesa, all sorts of amazing technology and genius devices were at the common person's disposal. Heck, it was a side benefit of the Sol II system – all the good shit came your way before it was dispersed for interplanetary trading. Yep, from hologram AI's to eye cameras with built in microscopes, right down to duplicate organs for thirty-minute delivery, shit was pretty amazing in Mesa. And, they had these other cool things, called doorbells. Just touch the door and a calm voice would alert the resident somebody was waiting for them.

So when you heard fucking knocks, it only meant one thing: FEAR. No, no, not fear, FEAR. Federation Enforcement and Administrative Registration. Goons from the highest wings of the government, typically with equipped every tier of authority to do whatever the hell they wanted. And they knocked.

Keth jumped from his morning insta-noodles, eyes locked to the pounding door. His apartment display fluttered open and bore a screen of the exterior hall. Two ghastly shadows were neatly stationed in front, one in regal uniform, the other armed to the goddamn teeth, hidden by armor and carrying a particularly nasty sidearm. Oh shit, oh shit. What the hell was this about?

Despite the fear pounding in his chest, he had no choice but to answer. Keeping Federation personnel waiting risked citation, with severe penalties and a massive blow to one's “Citizen Credit." He wasn't about to keep them.

The young man pounced from his seat and bolted to the door, rather forgetting he was in briefs and a t shirt. He pounded the authentication lock to open the frame. It slid open with a swift hiss, and a pale man with unblinking, unfeeling grey eyes met his stare.

Keth didn't even have a chance to say something.

“_Kethry Ort Loasca. Congratulations. The Committee for Interspecies Diplomacy and Welfare of Xeno-Human Relations has determined you are a suitable candidate for immediate habitation of Lunar Colony _Strata."

The words fell on Keth like an avalanche. About half the words he understood, the other half he didn't process.

“W-what. . ."

The uniformed man pushed forward a piece of formal white paper, shoving it into Keth.

“You are hereby immediately reinstated to Sub-Apartment Lot 332, Unit H6, 2 Bedroom, Co-Habitation Designation Homo-Canis by dictation of the Federation Enforcement, effective 1300 hours."

Keth took the paper, blank. Huh? What!? What was happening!?

“Stipend of 1000 credits is hereby granted to cover travel expenses and your material goods will be retrieved. Your assignment is of the upmost importance. The Committee demands results."

He glanced between the ominous parcel and the man. “I. . . I. . ."

The agent saluted. “Glory to Urth Prime, Glory to the Federation."

Like a swift, efficient mechanism, the uniformed man turned, gesturing to his armed companion.

“Oh. . ." he started again. “And get some goddamn clothes on."

The door flashed shut. In seconds, Keth's entire world changed in the blink of an eye. This couldn't be real. This had to be a dream!

But, no, as he looked and gazed over the paper, it was all there, sealed and commanded. His new “assignment," the authority responsible, and of course, the lengthy, endless paragraph about the punishments he'd face if he failed to comply. The Federation loved their bureaucracy.

He sat back at the table, staring at his noodles.

What the FUCK.

-*-

As it turns out, living in proximity to a moon most known for its vast oceanic quantities of ethanol and active volcano life wasn't the best digs.

Hanging around the ice-giant Nesura, Strata was a one stop-shop before traders, Federation hulls, galleons, and travelers got the hell out of dodge, usually to visit one of the neighboring systems (or in some cases to leave the Milky Way entirely). It was also where Xeno liked to stop by before they started a tourism round of the Sol II system. You know, absorb some of that great human culture like water jockeys who swore every other sentence or prisec teams waiting on their next assignment.

Noisy. That was Keth's first impression. Fucking noisy. The primary colony, Dahga (or really just the only colony) was stacks of neon-rimmed towers stretching far into the atmosphere like black fingers, casting deep shadows on the 'oceans' around them. It led to a strange, almost greenish sky, because the distant eruptions of active micro-volcanoes gave an eerie, yellowish overcast. Mixed with all the electronic light it was a weird looking horizon, and that was nothing to say of fuel lakes spread everywhere like open wounds.

Keth was lucky he was a bit of a shut in and his major apartment complex, “Habitation Sector Zeta-4," was basically an all-in-one city. Massive tower with multiple layers which were like micro-platforms, every block suited for entertainment, health, grocery, or whatever else. You could kinda forget there was a whole goddamn galaxy out there. Well, whatever, that's what the SuperNet was for. So, though the planetoid surroundings were less than glorious, it was unlikely he'd see much of it anyway. Or the rest of the colony, for that matter, but it was hardly an issue.

At least he had time to adjust. Damn FEAR, and damn Federation. Good thing he didn't have cranial micro-implants or they'd haul his ass off for thought crime.

His apartment was suitable. Bigger, but an entire half room was reserved for his “company," who wasn't even here! It was over three weeks and still no sign of them, leading Keth to believe this whole thing was just an excuse to kick his ass to the curb. Hell, he didn't even know what to expect: the Committee was all about “enhancing" Xeno relations through a variety of means, integrating them into human culture (and vice versa). How they determined this and with who he had no bloody idea. Bet it was some old codger clicking a button of “YES" or “NO" when randomly deciding who got the short draw.

So, his days were spent on the SuperNet, hearing the latest news from across the way. A lot was indecipherable noise because it dealt with micro-politics on almost every level. Hell, his entire block had its own miniature governance, determining everything from what types of food would come in for grocery or whether to vote yes/no on RESOLUTION 7721 for “building approximately 4 meters of new pipe for water provisions for building 66A." Beyond that? Try learning about the sub-sub senate boards responsible for voting Federation representatives for interstellar diplomacy.

Well, heck with that! Keth was plenty satisfied sticking to the virtual world. Weekends were especially nice. He'd watch FGC tournaments for LEGACY 99, the premiere fighting game played by millions from various systems. Naysayers be damned who spoke ill of its 3-frame inputs, it was popular for a reason! So, he could distract himself with the latest regarding all that. It was always great seeing 3-time winner Tornado (sponsored by Echo Cloud) duke it out with young upstart JakAss (sponsored by FUEL).

He did this with such routine he didn't even notice the time. A lazy Saturday afternoon, spent surfing the SuperNet for the new LEGACY tier lists and then probably to find some. . . images of his “main." The usual. When the door pinged, he didn't even think it was real, like it was a hiccup in his headphones. But once the sultry audio cues chimed in again, he twirled in his seat, yanking headphones off.

The static laced voice repeated itself.

“Guest. One. Door. Alarm. Guest. One. Door. Alarm."

He blinked.

Not those FEAR goons again, he hoped. But, no, they would've knocked, they always knocked.

Realization took him. It was the roommate. Shit, who else could it be? Oh man, oh damn, oh god! He looked at himself: briefs and a stained t-shirt as usual! Panicking, Keth scrambled to his room closet to throw on something a little more approachable. A not-stained shirt, unless you counted the rather excessive imagery on it.

Gulping, he went to the front door. Unfortunately, his unit didn't come with a security screen. Personal protection? Pah! No need for anything fancy now, safety was a luxury! Chance was far more exciting.

Worse though, he didn't even know what to expect. The Federation wasn't too specific about his new acquaintance. Homo-Canis relations, so. . . what? A fancy talking dog? This was going to get weird. He took a breath, padding open the door-combination, the frame sliding open. He blinked a few times.

Uh, what?

He wasn't staring at anything, was he? This wasn't. . .

Oh. Holy shit. His eyes widened, as his brain processed just what he was looking at. A chest, and said chest was attached to the curvy dimensions of a tall, wolf-like anthropoid. He couldn't tell completely and only assumed it was wolf, because their head wasn't even visible they were so tall!

Did he say 'their?' Oh no, no. It was a she. It was a she because her chest carried two massive assets, buxom slopes hidden greedily by a thin shirt, eclipsing his view. The damn things were enormous, to put it mildly. Watermelons? The hell with that, these battering rams could probably crush his torso between them! Ah, shit! Keth had never seen a gal with these proportions. She looked like a bloody Amazon, if they made em' in dog form.

A sultry growl caught his ears. “Hullo."

Speechless, Keth looked up. A river of black hair accompanied a grinning muzzle and strange, purple eyes, fur a sooty grey.

“You're small," she said. “I'm Kritska. But call me Krit. What do they call you, small one?"

Keth blurt out his name and quickly excused himself. His pants were getting tight.

-*-

It was about two weeks before Keth could see “Krit" without popping a rager. That proved challenging, even at his best. See, the whole point of this “togetherness" scenario was to foster positive Human-Xeno relations, usually through cultural exchanges, stories, cuisine, the usual. Kritska? Well, cool, apparently her ancient lineage went as far back as billion year old wolves from an ice giant world named Vyskgaard. According to her, she was a goddamn runt. Tell that to her skull crushing thighs!

Being part of said lineage meant her proportions were intense. Half the time she pranced around bottomless, sometimes bending over to lift the goddamn couch with a single arm in search of a lost object. Other times she was splayed out, naked, “cooling down" as she called it, apparently letting excess heat escape her coat of fur. It was insanity. The wolf-like creature didn't care much for human prudence, and often found it perplexing how shy and reserved Keth tried to be. She found it equally annoying trying to get through customs, since Federation officials wouldn't let her through “in such a perverse state."

Gah! Keth tried to keep himself together. He had to “take care" of himself before talking with her. She wasn't much for straps, either, and her front liked to heave and bounce at the slightest motion. He was afraid if he stared at her, she might throw him through the damn wall. Considering how effortlessly she hoisted objects hundreds of pounds in weight, he was sure she could do it too.

His only solution was to share his “culture." It distracted him, at least – hard to focus on bits when you were feeling the tilt over NetPlay. This meant getting Krit into the glorious FGC! And naturally, the best fighting game out there: LEGACY 99. Krit never dove into games, much less the demanding mechanics of a fighting one, but he was resolute to get her involved!

-*-

“I don't understand."

The living room was bathed in the flashing lights from the duo's entertainment monitor, a massive flatscreen integrated into the wall which sported a range of visual distractions. One could never watch or play the amount of interstellar media available, there were trillions upon trillions of hours worth of it.

Fortunately, Keth only had eyes for his precious game, and he was determined to get Krit just as excited.

“It's simple," he grumbled back, fiddling with his pad. “It's really just a sequence of movements in a fast motion, then a button press."

Krit was behind him (thank goodness), perched on the couch. She basically took up most of it anyway, but that's fine, Keth didn't mind sitting near the screen. Helped him react faster!

The plastic gamepad clicked against his touches as he dialed in “the motions." On screen, a character performed a special attack, the tried-and-true “dragon punch" via his main.

“Besides," he continued. “Roxxan is really easy to pick up. She's been my choice since I was a kid."

It had nothing to do with Roxxan being a rather busty, fit squirrel girl. Not at all!

He did the motion a few more times, although Krit couldn't really view his motions.

“See?" he said, turning his head slightly. The larger chimera growled.

“No."

There was a shifting sound. “Why don't you show me?"

What? Well, that was easier said than done! Besides, Keth couldn't just show motions, it had to be learned, practiced. This was a difficult thing to do which took hours and hours of repetitive movements. It wasn't like observing his fingers move would just. . . translate the information!

“I mean. . ." he started to say. Started, because he was cut off by the warm, immense proximity of the wolfess. She moved herself from the couch to directly behind him, the gravity of her presence immediately recognizable. O-oh. Oh shit. Uh, okay, don't panic. Nothing to worry about. Just a wolfess twice his size with tits about as big as Keth's torso. No big deal! R-right? Hahaha. Hah.

“Um."

Her generous thighs and legs wrapped around Keth.

UM.

He froze. His hands were stuck on the pad, sweat trailing down his brow as the immensity of Krit's, uh, mountains came to his side, like two immense, fluffy slopes. His back squished into the proximity of her chest, warm, silky fur overtaking him, while her muzzle rested on top of his head. F-fuck! Holy shit lady! Did personal space mean nothing to the wolves? G-gah. He could feel himself getting tense, bestial root stirring to life. This was awful for Keth's focus.

“I can see better now," Krit said, peering down at the controller, tail whapping against the floor.

Yeah, great. Didn't help her toned arms slid around Keth too, outright embracing him, the paws coming over the device, right on top of his.

“O-oh. . ." he cleared his throat. “G-good."

“Show me again," purred the wolfess.

Yeah, sure no problem. Just like that, right? Easy to focus on a big-titted squirrel girl when a big-titted wolf girl was right behind you!

Keth coughed. “Er, uh, y-yeah, sure."

Well, only thing he could do was focus. It was like a pro tourney, right? The best players would get haggled and cheered and booed but they blocked it out! It was just that, save the hagglers weren't a crowd. . .

Keth did his best to repeat the motions. Again, on the training stage, his selected fighter performed a simple three hit combo ending with her Burning Riser, the DP. All that good muscle memory still preserved itself despite the suffocating bust hugging his arms.

“Er, see?" he said, eyes firmly planted on the screen. Krit made a grumbling noise, leaning further, and oh god oh fuck Keth could see the proximity of her massive bust via peripheral vision. Her soft paws over his hands was also unnerving. Comforting, but unnerving. His tiny boy brain screamed for him to turn right around and burying himself in that bust! But, hell, what kind of cultural exchange was that? Oh god, he could see the Committee report now, and the FEAR officers taking him to the asteroid gulags for daring to insult a proud wolfess with his antics.

“The squirrel is cute," mused Krit, huffing. Y-yeah, she was. Keth focused on his main, which didn't really help either, because the developers of LEGACY saw fit to give her bounce physics too. He was surrounded by tits! Typically a young man's dream, but it was like a prison at this point.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, um, I think she's cool, and uh. . ."

Krit cut him off. “I see you move the joystick a lot when using her."

UHHH.

“W-well, you kind of have to it, it's the um, input motions and. . ."

She chuckled. “No, silly one. Not that joystick. That joystick."

Oh shit what was she talking about.

Hah, of course! Keth's flag had a mind of its own. You can't throw a young, budding man in the throes of a huge, mountainous embrace and not have his length do a little dragon-punch of its own, no? Hah! It would be so funny if it wasn't so unsettling.

“W-what do you mean," he said, frozen, trying to play it cool. Which is to say, not at all.

Krit chuckled. “Funny you. Is Roxxan real?"

Whuh? What kind of question is that? Krit accented her query by wrapping those big thighs around him. GEH.

“S-she's a character, so n-not really?"

Krit made a surprised coo. “No? So no chance of pushing her buttons? Strange. Human culture is strange."

What did she mean pushing buttons!?

The wolfess sniffed. “Let's see. . . maybe you need a different kind of practice. . . what was the joystick movement again?"

Before Keth could respond, Krit's gentle palm pressed into his crotch, the delicate fingers squeezing around the dimensions of his bulging flank. Oh god there was no hiding it, not anymore, not with that soft, silky set of digits squeezing at him. Keth's face went red and small slivers of sweat dripped from his brow. He couldn't fight back a groan – no way. Not in his wildest dreams did he imagine something like this would happen!

“Hey, w-what are you doing. . ." he protested, although weakly. And, really, it wasn't even a protest, it was just the dumb sliver of his brain asking “hey whoa this shit's great but why?"

“Sharing some culture," said Krit, offering an amused chuckle. Again, she rubbed her hand against the hardening inches, feeling the length between the dim layers of fabric shielding Keth from her delectable touch.

“Humans are funny," she continued. “All these things you wear and things you like. Too bad Roxxan isn't here, no? You would touch her buttons. But I will do. I'm curious about this stick of yours."

Bwuh! T-touching Roxxan? That was a nice thought, instantly replaced by the nicer thought of fumbling around with Krit's “assets."

He didn't have time to contemplate though. With rather terrifying strength, Krit shifted, hoisting the boy up. in a moment he was made aware of just how dainty and feeble his size was compared to her power, so, you know, don't piss her off or she might make him a red blotch on the wall. He was on his feet, and she spun him around. The wolfess crouched, looking at him with an amused gaze. Of course, at this point Keth's cock was outright fighting to get out of its covers, dew of presex staining through his undergarments.

“Buh. . ." he said. That wasn't a word, but about all he could manage right now. His eyes were locked onto the creature's impressive size, dark fur painted with the flashing screen behind him. Her shirt did little to hold the massive mountains held in their fragile grasp. Well, she recognized this, and did away with the pesky attire.

Ket was speechless. Her buxom, frothy front bounced free and clapped together, enormous front easily the size of his chest. Yeah, she could kill him with those if she wanted. What a KO! He was basically defeated. Was he drooling? Hard not to, oh crap they were huge. And. . . and there was a whole planet of women like her? And she was a runt!?

“You seem to like them," she chuckled, taking a digit and grabbing the rim of his pants. In one powerful motion she yanked them down, revealing Keth's aroused, hard cock. It wobbled in the air, and Krit rubbed her chin, sniffing at it.

“Good. Humans strange. They like things. Want to see them but cover them up? Your culture is odd. At home, we only wear when it is time for fighting."

Hey, Keth, remember how words work?

“O-oh, that's c-cool."

Good one!

Didn't matter. Krit obliged herself some strokes of his length, wrapping palm around the inches, tugging at it with slow but determined strokes. Oh shit it was perfect! Not just the sensation, but the proximity, the realization a titty-monster was massaging his length. Despite her size and clear strength, she was gentle too, and understood how to roll and cup and squeeze, sending shivering, pleasant waves through Keth.

She growled with laughs, seeing Keth blush and seethe at her attentions. She licked her chops, leaning forward to take a long, slow lick against the throbbing inches, savoring the flavor of Keth's presex, her dripping tongue slipping to his testes and base, assaulting him with laps. Keth panted, overwhelmed with desire, filling the air with soft, choked moans. This was insane! This was a culture exchange? Did he have to include this in the Committee report!?

Oh god, it was insanity this! Keth watched his flank vanish into her massive, sloppy muzzle, a chamber of moist heat fitting perfectly around his malehood. He most fell as the kneeling beast bobbed her head in gentle, slow tosses, canine lips suckling the inches perfectly, dragging the skin along with her motions. His instinct drove him forward, forcing his hips to gyrate and bang into her awaiting maw. A chitter of noise indicated Krit's approval, grabbing his hip to encourage him on. Ah shit!

She popped him free, a thin river of saliva and presex falling from her muzzle. Gah! Why! What a horrifying tease! This was like watching XenoHub and having a video buffer right when the good stuff was happening!

“You're like a pup. Need to grow into those balls, little one."

He blinked, panting. “T-thanks?"

At once, her hand lashed out and grabbed the back of his head, throwing Keth into the wolfess' mighty cleavage. Wah! Oh, was there a god? Probably! Keth flushed, engulfed into her fat, frothy front, the powerful wolfess crushing him with an embrace of supple, soft tits. His whole head and chest got stuck in there, consumed by her silky warmth and powerful fluff, causing his bare cock to shiver in anticipation. Ah, this was too much! On instinct – he couldn't resist – his hands flew out and crashed into her titanic tits, squeezing and yanking and pulling. Gh, just as he imagined! So thick and fat, heavy, he could hardly lift them!

“Ohoho, there we are. Finally coming out of your shell? Why it took so long, I can't imagine."

Brr. Krit's accented, rough voice encouraged him more. She was like a perverse lullaby, inviting him to do all the things you just. . . couldn't do. This was the kinda gal who might crush your pelvis and wonder why you weren't just honest about it!

“Important to know each other in all the ways, little one," she purred, watching him fondle her fat front. Well, will do, big wolf, not like Keth was doing anything else. Pretty sure he suffered a time penalty on LEGACY, but, there were more important matters at hand now. Literally.

“W-what do you mean?" Keth managed, voice muffled by the burial of fur he was currently planted in. Another rumble of chuckles.

She pushed him back, holding him by the shoulders, predatory glance looking him over. Uh oh. Those were come hither eyes, fuck me eyes, even Keth could recognize that. W-was he about to die? Cause' if this girl used him like a chewtoy how would he survive?

Well, couldn't fight back now. No counters! He was negative on block and she was about to apply a command grab! In fact, the wolfess had Keth on his back before he finished a blink with a resulting thud. He gave a slight grunt, watching with aroused terror as the beast swung herself around, her firm, supple rump thrown into view. Before Keth could even process what was happening, her hefty rear smooshed into his visage, warm cleft crashing into his mouth and nose.

“Grrmhmf!?"

Oh, well goodbye vision. It was encompassed now by the stern, hefty cheeks of Krit's backside, thick, plentiful ass engulfing him, for lack of better word. Her soft, moist lips embraced him, and Keth was hapless, throwing arms around the immense rump. Not like he had much a choice. Was he gonna lose oxygen? Well, worse ways to go.

He was lost in this sort of abyss, and boy, what a strange thing. The void of wolf ass. He'd laugh if he wasn't so goddamn aroused right now, and how he wished he could touch himself. This damn creature was all about exchanging but she was leaving him dry! He'd show her! He countered with his own licks, or tried to, tongue feeling for the inner walls of the beast's sumptuous folds, exploring her petals. This incurred pleasant moans from her as she rolled her hips against him, enforcing more tongue touches. But, she wasn't so greedy to abandon the poor boy in his time of need.

Like before, Krit leaned to engulf Keth's pole into her maw, burying the spear in her moist hilt. Keth groaned from the attention, feeling her suckle in smooth but intense sweeps, so strong she was practically pulling him off the floor! F-fuck!

Well, he couldn't hold back, trying to buck into her sloppy, lewd motions. It was hard, literally, and she was eager to toss her had against the hungry inches, though it was clear who had the better style here. All the while, Keth smooshed his palms into her generous, plump backside, astounding at just how much there was. It said nothing when he discovered the delicate dimensions of her muscle, feeling at the lines of her sinewy strength. The thought of her running, those thick thighs heaving together. . .

“Slkkmfm. . ."

There was a loud sucking sound, but it was hard to hear. After all, Keth's head was a little preoccupied. He smooched and kissed at the snatch, embracing the mons, taking in her taste and scent. It filled him with identity, as though he was getting to know her in more ways than one. Well, guess he was now. Sheesh! Xenos sure were an informal bunch! Too bad things didn't go this way with usual courtship!

Now, her motions hastened. Krit wiggled her hips, forcing the perky rump to jiggle with jubilant bounces, the hefty slopes practically clapping into the other, exciting Keth. He felt them on his ears, entombed by wolf, and it wasn't a grave he wanted to escape. Krit bounced herself on his mouth, forcing echoing claps to pattern the room, mixing with the sounds of the idle fighting game, her mons dripping with wolfish arousal.

Gah! It was way too much. Keth was really practiced with this kind of thing, and it didn't take long before his spear burst to life in a hot wave of sticky, youthful seed. Krit yipped with delight, eager to suck down the presence of issue, slobbering the inches down, forcing his cock to turn into a drowned, dripping fleshy sword. Keth's stones roiled and rose, offering everything they had, soaking Krit's throat as thin rivers of white dribbled from her lips.

She licked her chops, mashing her loins against him. “Mhmhmhm, didn't take long. But seems your joystick needs extra testing."

W-what? She had to be kidding right? Okay, sure, maybe Keth was still hard, but that didn't mean he had the stamina for this! His EX-gauge was all spent! R-right?

Too bad, Krit was a lustful beast. She hopped off Keth's now rather moist face, spinning to loom over him, her visage stretched with a wild grin. Oh god, that was the beast, the creature from a planet of big wolves. Was he about to die?

Maybe. Her hips fell onto his loins, accepting Keth's bestial root. At once his cock was embraced by the slippery, hot clench of her inner folds. She grabbed his shoulders, pinning him (not like he was able to resist anyway), and started to assault his cock with soft, though intense, bounces.

“Oh goooood!" Keth moaned. His hapless hands reached up, once again squeezing at her mountainous tits, which were battering rams at this point. She cackled, pressing down, smooshing the weighty front into his face, engulfing him in her womanly axis. Jeeze, she really didn't want him to breathe, huh? Well, he couldn't complain. He nipped at her nips, licking at the hard black tents, trying to suckle like a pup, eager to bite and squeeze with teeth.

This only encouraged her to wobble faster, bouncing on his flank with increased haste, practically breaking the floor. Each toss of her thick, jubilant rump sent wavy claps through her viscous rear, claps emitting around the room. Keth bucked back, or tried to, but he was at the mercy of the mighty wolfess. There were worse fates.

She rode him like a stallion – a thing he absolutely was not – but her tossing body was enough to escalate them both into a state of “culture sharing" bliss. Wow, was this how it went back at her home? He should really put in for interstellar diplomacy.

“NNaaah!"

The whimpers and whines emitting from the titanic creature once again sent Keth over the edge. The very idea he was capable of pleasing such a beautiful beast was enough to make him lose all control! And he did.

Again – surprising even himself – his loins burst with waves of radiating, hot bliss, drowning Krit's cunt with himself. He grabbed her thighs, holding on for dear life as the buxom beast bounced ferociously on him. Any harder and his bones would crack!

Gah. . .

He fizzled out. . .

-*-

“KAYYYY OHHH!"

The screen blared as Krit's foe fell into a virtual limp pile. Her second victory for today.

“See? Wasn't so hard," said Keth, back buried in her torso as she fiddled with the pad.

“Hmph," she grumbled. “Still not sure about this joystick."

UH.

He tried to ignore it as she skipped to the next screen, loading a new opponent. Cultural exchange complete, he guessed.

“Maybe you'll show me the input later," purred the wolfess. Keth laughed, nervous, feeling his stick wiggle to life again.

Guess there was more to learn.