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A Walk About Town

Today was Sunday, the sabbath, so my business was closed. I’ve never been religious, mind you, but when the Regulians accepted control of the planet, as a show of good faith to their new subjects, they enacted laws guaranteeing religious observation days no matter what job or religion it may be; consequently, the amount of people observing religion increased dramatically. Church attendance increased as well, despite no one really watching to make sure you actually observe the day, perhaps some of us really got broken up over the whole invasion thing.

Either way, as a result, Sunday in the Duchy of North America was a day of rest and most Human businesses were closed. Thankfully for those of us who are more materialistic than most, there are plenty of Alien-owned businesses picking up the slack.

I left my apartment, a modest little thing in the suburbs and got on a bus to the former Downtown, now the Foreign Quarter (Or Fureign, as some awful jokesters call it). I took the only free seat, next to a huge Regulian who smelt like a garbage can. Guess even the elite can forget to shower once in awhile.

The trip was uneventful and I amused myself by looking at the ads above the seats. “Join the Regulian Human Legion! Travel the Galaxy! ALL CAN APPLY!” was emblazoned above three humans in uniform cheerfully saluting a tiger-like Regulian General.

“JOIN THE DUCAL GUARD! DEFEND YOUR HOME!” This reminded me a little too much of the party I was going to attend, and the fact that I might very well meet the white Sirian that was flanked by two faceless humans in ceremonial armor.

“Waterfront Station.”

I got up and left the bus, taking a deep breath as I escaped the smelly feline. The air was not much better, fifteen years since the conflict ended and there was still dust in the air from the orbital bombardment. My city wasn’t even directly targeted and we still have to breathe it all in.

A bright poster with a silhouetted Vulpeculan girl promising a “Soft-paw massage” caught my eye. It was almost tempting, even though it wasn’t really my kind of thing, but I had a more professional reason to be heading into the Foreign District.

Ding-ding! The door sang as I pushed it open, no doubt put in by an Alien designer wanting the clothing store to be like a “Traditional Human store.” I was a little surprised to see a Human girl behind the counter and even more surprised and irritated when I recognized her. I hoped she didn’t recognize me…

“Nate? Is that you?”

Groaning silently, I nodded towards her, “Hello Char.”

“Oh...my...god!” she exclaimed, grabbing at her blonde braid and rubbing it, “It’s been so long!”

“Since college...yes...”

“Wow, yeah! You look great!”

“You too, uh, I’m just here...”

“So, what have you been up to? Did you graduate.”

“Ah, uh, yes, yes I did,” I cleared my throat. I actually had not and neither had her, but I was making far more money with my meager IT skills where I was than I would had I graduated. She looked like she was waiting for a follow-up, so I relented, though I already knew the answer, “What about you?”

“I’m glad you asked!” she exclaimed, thrusting her hand towards me. A gold band was around her ring finger, “I’m married...to a Vulpeculan!”

I knew the story, which she began to recite to me at length. Long story short, (and believe me, her version was not short!) she met a Vulpeculan who worked as an indentured hauler at the Spaceport. Finding him particularly handsome and a gentleman, she used her (Father’s) money to buy his contract and, having attained his freedom thanks to her, he fell in love with her and married her. I knew about this because they were the first Human and Alien to marry and there was a fluff pieces on the news about it for months. What those news stories failed to mention as they were praising their relationship as a “Bonding between two cultures,” was that he didn’t actually have his freedom, she still owned him until his contract expired. They also didn’t mention he got indentured as an alternative to a jail sentence by ratting out his band of thieves on Beta Vulpeculae, that would have ruined the story, of course.

Full disclosure, I am perhaps a little bitter because we dated for a few months and she dumped me; shortly after she met him. Normally I wouldn’t let such a thing get to me, but after a long period of seeing her and him embracing on television, it wore at me. It kind of felt like I was such a bad boyfriend that she switched species, no matter how hard I tried to think otherwise.

“...and so we started our own business.”

“Oh, uh...” I shook myself awake, “So, you own this place?”

“We do! Me and my Vulpeculan husband!”

Cringing internally, I muttered a reply, “Really now.”

“I do the books and he makes the clothes!” she smiled, “Well, uh, not the ones on display, but the custom jobs, you know?”

“Speaking of custom jobs,” I cleared my throat, “I could use a good suit. I have a party I will be attending.”

“Oh, that’s great! Back when, you know...you never were the party kind!” she giggled, “My Vulpeculan husband is kind of like that too, he’s a sweetie.”

I was beginning to grow a little sick of hearing ‘Vulpeculan husband,’ but I had to remind myself she likely did not mean any offense by it. It was what she was famous for, after all. Gritting my teeth, I managed out my order, “Just a normal suit, but nice. Human style, traditional.”

“You sure you don’t want something more...exotic? My Vulpeculan...”

“No, no. I’ll stick with the Human suit. Single-breasted, with a vest.”

“Okay, you know best! Let me go get him,” she quickly stepped away from the counter, her heels clacking against the tile floor, “Honey! We’ve got a customer and you won’t believe who it is!”

“Coming dear!” Came a shout from the backroom, it was deep, unusually so for a Vulpeculan.

The back door flung open and he emerged, six foot tall with brown, course fur and a white muzzle which had a nasty red scar etched across the top from one end to the other. He had a Human-style, double-breasted brown suit on with a modified rear to allow his tail to escape. Measuring tape draped around his shoulders, flicking about as he walked.

“Hey honey,” he whispered, rubbing his black nose against hers and giving her lips a lick with his long tongue, “Who’s the skin?”

“This...” she broke away from his embrace and motioned to me with a wave of her fingers, “Is Nate!”

“Nate,” he said with recognition, bad or good, I couldn’t tell. He extended a paw and I did the same, his grip was firm, almost to the verge of hurting, “Glad to finally meet the famous Nate.”

“Glad to meet you too...” I paused, trying to remember his name. Come to think of it, the fluff pieces never really mentioned his name aside from her...groan...Vulpeculan husband. I never did recall his name and switched to giving my order.

“I think we can take care of that,” he poked towards the back room with his muzzle, “Let’s go get you fit.”

I trailed behind him, trying to gauge the situation from him. I was Human, I couldn’t smell anything on him aside from the usual Vulpeculan musk that permeated all of them, of course, so I tried to get something out of his body language. His tail seemed to swish back and forth as he walked...did that mean he was happy, like a dog? Or annoyed like a cat? Maybe it was just a normal thing to do, did they all do that?

It didn’t matter, I was now in a small room, alone with the biggest ex-con, two-legged fox I ever met and I had no idea if he wanted to rip out the previous boyfriend’s throat.

“Arms out,” he demanded and I stretched them from side to side. He stepped closer, stretching out the tape and tracing it along my arms.

He stayed there, measuring for an unusually long time. This was not normal, even I knew this and the last time I got measured for a suit was high school graduation.

His nose twitched. Nostrils flaring, he chuckled, “She talks about you all the time, you know?”

Gulping, I began to sweat, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling the tape back with his needle-like teeth showing in a grin, “Stuff like, “Nate never did things like that!” and “Oh, you’re sooooo much better than Nate!””

Normally I’d be offended, maybe a little pissed off, but honestly, I was willing to let him feel like the bigger man if it meant I wasn’t going to end up as a statistic.

“Hey,” he slapped me on the shoulder, “I’m kidding.”

“Ah, I see.”

Snorting, he wrapped the tape around my waist, “She never said any of that, but she don’t have to. You know, all the women around the Galaxy love Vulpeculan cock the best, right?”

“I, uh, how so?”

He shook his head at me, “Oh? Like you’ve never seen girls with Alien men in porn?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

Laughing, he told me to spread my legs but just stood there, snapping the tape across, “Regulians, women don’t like their cocks. They hurt, you know? Those spines of theirs. That’s why any Regulian with a modest income has a harem of women bought who can’t say no. Some, some like the pain, but most don’t, not one bit. They’re last, by far.”

“Next would be the Lupiads and Sirians, and lets face it, they’re the same no matter what they say. They’ve got that knot and there is something to it that girls are drawn to, the feeling of being bound to someone in sex, that’s a powerful feeling. But for most, it’s a little too big, once again, it hurts.”

“So, then there’s you Humans. Smooth and flexible. There’s a lot for a woman to love, but in the end it’s a little...plain, don’t you think?”

“So naturally, the Vulpeculan comes on top. It’s not as big as the Lupiad or Sirian, closer to your species in size, but we still have a knot, one that’s just the right size for women of all species for that little extra bit of fun without causing pain. You see, now?”

“You seem to have thought a lot about cocks.”

Grinning, he knelt and started running the tape along the inside of my leg, “If you want to know women, you got to know what they want.”

His paw brushed against my penis causing me to shudder.

He looked up at me, “It’s okay if you get a boner. I’m one sexy beast, after all.”

Chuckling, I shook my head.

“I love her, I truly do,” he said, pulling back the tape and standing up. He had a serious look on his face, “She’s a good girl. I wouldn’t change anything I did in my life, it all led to meeting her.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, trying to think of anything else to say that wouldn’t involve emphasizing my ex-boyfriend status. I couldn’t think of anything.

“I think that’s everything. Char will have the details about when the suit will be available,” he turned away, swishing his tail one more time, “Pleasure to meet you, Nate.”

* * * * *

The suit would be ready for the next weekend, I was assured of that by Char, who refused to charge me extra for a rush order. I left a little relieved and a little less bitter. There was plenty I could find to be cynical about their relationship, but it seemed that he was nice enough, despite his violent past and she was doing well. They had a shop in a good location in the Foreign Quarter and all the free exposure they could want. They must be doing well.

And that was that, her being my girlfriend was the past and now she was just another nice person, if a little irritating, in the present. Good for her and good for me.

I plopped down in my couch. I still had a lot of things to do before the big weekend. A lot of work to do. But for now, it was time to relax and watch some TV.

Click.

“...Tensions escalated as Earth Confederation protestors clashed with a new group called the Xenophiles...”

The screen switched, showing a Human man with unkempt hair and a pair of gray, furry ears attached to his head. He proceeded to lose all shreds of respectability when he immediately began screaming as soon as the camera focused on him.

“Humans ruled Earth for thousands of years and we BUNGLED IT! There is no species more wicked than the Human! They are smarter, stronger, and more sexy...”

Too much cringe. I switched the channel.

“Join the fight! Join the Royal Guard! Five years of service. A lifetime of experience.”

Click.

“Up next, an exclusive sneak peak at “My Vulpeculan Husband,” the true story of one woman’s...”

Click.

I shut the TV off.

Goddammit.