I sigh. “No, he hasn’t. But I don’t think he wants to know anyway. He’s…not enthusiastic about any of this.”
Eissa’s eyes cut down, and he nods. He looks almost…sad? It’s so hard to tell, but it’s in the flicker of his long, pierced ears. “I understand.”
Looking back at my tablet, I shrug. “I’ll get finished now.” I don’t wait for him to answer, instead flicking to the next page with a quiz that turns out to be insultingly easy.
I pass with a score of one hundred, and there’s a little chime of victory that makes me feel accomplished, even though I didn’t do much.
“What happens next?” I ask.
“You walk next door to the clinic and sign in for your session.”
I push the tablet to the edge of the desk and stand up. Staring at him again, I lick my lips. “Do you…ah. I mean, you participate, right?”
His eyes narrow a little. “Are you trying to make a request?”
“No. Oh my god, I’m…I mean, no offense. You seem like a perfectly nice per—uh—mon—um. Vyastil?” God, I’m such a loser.
Now he looks amused. I can read that in his dark eyes. “I see. Thank you.”
My face is flaming hot. “I just…I mean. I guess I never thought about how all Vyastil do it. The sessions.”
“Yes. Most of us.”
Interesting. I wonder what that means.
“And you, um. Like it?”
“It is necessary,” he answers, mostly toneless.
I realize I’m crossing a line here. I’m not sure if cock sucking is as intimate for them as it is for us, but it’s probably taboo to talk about it. They, at the very least, understand that for humans, it’s a sexual act.
So, yeah. I should shut my mouth.
“Thanks for being nice,” I tell him.
His face goes a little softer than most monsters look at humans, and he nods. “You’re most welcome. I hope you have an easy session.”
I make note of the fact that he doesn’t say good or nice or whatever. But I’ll take it.
An easy session is definitely something I can hope for.
three
EVEREST
Iwalk next door for my session, and the world looks a little stranger now that I know more about what’s going to happen to me.
Just outside the clinic, I see a line of people waiting by the door, and I wonder for a moment why they’re here.
Are they backup in case one of us chickens out? Or are they so addicted to the blow jobs that they line up and wait all day, hoping to get in?
I see a human security guard near the door and throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Why the line?”
The man doesn’t even flick his gaze sideways. “Addicts.”
I stare at him, but he doesn’t blink. So, apparently, they’re addicted to monster blow jobs.
Got it.
