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The Last Chance: My Medicine [18+]
🕑 Added 2023-01-23 19:56:32 +0000 UTCIntermission to comic The Last Chance: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YNhXLKRt_NYX4ixg3dIu6tmRgneNK7zi/view?usp=share_link
Summary: Tal'Gkhor is the Commander of a leviathan class spaceship, and the one to whom N'taar addressed his request. Things piled up for him, and he had to find something that would allow him to have a much needed rest.
My Medicine
"I'm so tired."
Tal'Gkhor, a tall, hulking figure walked along a narrow passage. It was dimly lit by slow, pulsating, turquoise lights. Like blood through veins, energy passed through uneven walls. Walls, which looked like thousands of snakes intertwined. His metal looking armor, - that covered all of his chiseled body except for the wide, bulking neck and elongated head with a pointy chin and an empty space where one would think the cheeks should be in, - as of the same design, gleamed lazily in return. A low humming along with heavy steps echoed through the corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly.
Tal'Gkhor was exhausted. He lost valuable materials when Aiteye's ship could not be found. It disappeared. Just gone. Without a trace. Ragas' Armada caught up to one of his scouts. Now gone as well. The supplies of frame threads are running low with every passing cycle. Not to speak of food stocks. Their beasts need food as well as they do.
And sleep. Tal'Gkhor has been deprived of this luxury for a while by now. He ordered his research team to make something that would allow him to rest. The usual treatment stopped working for him a long time ago.
He stopped. Before him looked to be another wall. He raised his right hand to the side. Between his fingers glowed a turquoise object. It looked to be a sphere. A matrix orb. It resonated with another, a little larger, orb in the wall. The wall before him started to part and revealed an open space behind.
"Hal'Rau, I've came, where is it?" Not waiting for an invite nor an answer, Tal'Gkhor walked in the laboratory. It was a mess. Filled with various instruments, artifacts, cages, tanks, chambers and assortment of supplies along with containers scattered across every available surface one would need a map to navigate though it without stepping on something important.
"Apologies for not being able to deliver it myself, I've been-..." A troubled, and a little bit surprised voice of the second Ancient, -who was neck deep in a pile of some goo -quite literally- was immediately cut off by Tal'Gkhor's firm, deep, albeit tired, rumble "Stop it" - he gestured with his right hand to silence the researcher. "That is fine, send me a report when you're done" Tal'Gkhor continued more tiredly, head tilting to the side and eyes scanning the usual place where Hal'Rau kept his medicine.
"O-of course! It's on the table, vial marked with red" Hal'Rau answered in a hurry, seemingly trying not to get too distracted from the goo which looked to be- "is it alive?" - Tal'Gkhor pondered aloud for a moment before a sting of pain rushed through his head, making him lose balance and knock off the table a few differently marked vials. He picked one which didn't fall off the table and stumbled back, resuming his composure -to the best of his current ability- and leaving the researcher to his -whatever it was- research.
***
As for the Commander of a leviathan class spaceship, Tal'Gkhor's private quarters looked quite ordinary. They held his resting place, a few storage vaults, a weapon and an armor rack, and a few working tables with various tools and objects scattered across them.
There were only two things that made them stand out from the rest. His chamber was connected to a solitary restroom, and the chamber itself held a nest-like structure in one of its corners.
It was his feral companion's bed.
The creature slept as Tal'Gkhor entered the room, undressing himself. The snakes of armor uncoiled themselves into a neatly looking plate, revealing a tight bodysuit underneath. It covered his massive frame like a second skin - not hiding every muscle, every nook and cranny of his towering body.
He put the plate on a table next to his own bed, on which he unsteadily sat a moment later. A vial in his hand. He looked at it for a moment longer before unsealing the lid. Bitter liquid proceeded down his long tongue, past his membranes and down his throat.
"Today it tastes... different" Tal'Gkhor looked at the vial without paying it any further thought. He laid down on his back. Hands straight along his hips, and head slightly tilted to the side, held by, - what could be only described as - an oddly shaped pillow, made to accommodate his built.
He closed his eyes. This time the medicine worked rather quickly... Or so he thought.
Tal'Gkhor's eyes darted open, as he felt a pressure washing over his lying body. Before him, above his lap, stood his hound. His ragkhlar. Gkhasherzan. "What are you doing Gkha-" as he started to speak, the hound spoke: "I've waited long enough for this moment, Master."
Tal'Gkhor was speechless. Hounds do not speak. He watched how his hound held his wrists with its hands. Pinning him down. Face lowered. Its mouth flaps touched his rising chest. As if caressing. Sucking on his bodysuit. A few drops of acid seeped out of its teeth. It was just enough to pry open the suit. And rip it off, revealing Tal'Gkhor's tensed abdominal muscles.
"Zane" Tal'Gkhor raised his voice "get off of me. Now." He was getting frustrated. For some reason his hound overpowered him, which it shouldn't. Its hind legs held his own with its seemingly unmovable weight.
The hound didn't listen.
It continued to hold in place its owner, its Master, who squirmed underneath. Streaks of liquid oozed from its mouth, leaving a wet, sticky trail on Tal'Gkhor's belly, as its head slowly moved lower.
"This is an order-" struggling to move, he began to talk when a sharp sensation ran through his groin. His companion touched his slit with its wet mouth. Like an agile tendril, one of its flaps circled above the sealed entrance. Probed it, and then dipped, making the owner to tensely gasp.
"Zane!" In a moment after, Tal'Gkhor exclaimed in surprise. "Stop it, now." His muscles tensed, and the breathing became ragged, as the hound continued exploring his inner being.
It was swelling.
As much as he didn't wanted to, his body was reacting to his companion's overwhelming touch.
Within his race it was acceptable, albeit in silence, to share a close bond. Ragkhlars were creatures which understood many words, and their hands even allowed them to perform simple tasks. Yet here, now.
Zane raised its head. A mixture of liquids drooping from its flaps.
"I am glad that you finally agreed, Master." Zane said, as he felt how his Master relaxed.
Tal'Gkhor did not answer. He was too tired, too confused, and now - too erect to resist.
Hound's hands left its Master's wrists, finding support besides his thighs.
Hardened being hungered for warmth, as it was left exposed in moist cold.
And it returned.
Zane teased at first - touching the tip with two of his flaps, as if they were palms. He run them down the shaft, and then back up. Withdrawing for a moment, and then forming a tight entrance from all of his flaps. With little, separate motions he guided the tip inside, and then sucked.
A short grunt escaped Tal'Gkhor's membranes. Now freed hands rested on his partner's head.
Upon his Master's wish, Zane released his legs, which Tal'Gkhor immediately spread. Hips going up and the hands pressing down to simulate a harder thrust.
Zane's mouth was velvety, slick and tight.
Tension was building up in Tal'Gkhor's overworked body as he pounded his companion's throat with his rod.
Vacuum that ragkhlar's cavity formed felt like the very being is ready to explode, and it started to throb.
Tal'Gkhor was at his brink. His thrusts became erratic, out of pace. He squeezed muscled head and slapped it down his base. Spurts of hot, viscous liquid filled Zane's mouth. He felt how it pulsated, enjoyed his multifaceted form. He sucked it, ate it, till there was nothing left.
Tal'Gkhor's body relaxed as he prostrated himself on the bed; his member slipping out of Zane's mouth and retracting within its space.
Mixture of ragkhlar's natural lube, saliva and other bodily fluids hanged, dripped from its mouth.
Zane observed his tired, but now seemingly happy, Master, whose ragged breathing was slowly returning into norm.
Their gazes met, question in Tal'Gkhor's eyes. "Zane-" just as he wanted something to ask, he woke up.
The bodysuit was intact. The hound lied where it was when he walked inside, -seemingly minding its own business, - and the only difference was his erect rod.
He looked at the vial. It was marked with purple. He felt well rested, but It was not his medicine.
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