Star Kitten (17 page)

Now New Australia was going to have to make
some tough decisions just like Earth did all those centuries ago.
And the first order of business was a general cease fire.

When The Schpleeftkorkii gang, who'd been
protecting Architeuthis all this time, came forward to seek peace
with a neighboring Pumalar gang, the Smilodons, it created a chain
reaction of several gangs throughout the planet calling a global
armistice to resolve their differences. Everyone was exhausted.
Food supplies which once seemed endless, now seemed to be
dwindling. And there was nothing noble about it either…. Gang
leaders knew very well it would be their own heads on the chopping
block, if they one day couldn’t feed their own memberships.

A territory map was created using the
Warden’s old planetary network blueprints. These incredibly
detailed maps were used to determine borders; and Architeuthis
himself came out of hiding to develop a new system of government
where all the gangs could send representatives to a brand new
“Parliament” as he called it, located inside the main lobby of the
old terminal complex. They actually even used the site of the old
ARENA used by the Nausties for “entertainment” after the capture of
the main terminal. Nearly a thousand captured Security Troops,
mining engineers, and office staff had been put to death in this
place. Architeuthis felt it was important to teach a lesson here by
reminding his violent and barbaric comrades of what they should
strive to be; and what they should avoid becoming ever again.

But he even went one step further, to give
all Nausties a new basis for identity. The gangs were now to be
called TRIBES; and the Parliament took on the format of a planetary
confederation. Not a full democracy of course, but more of a loose
alliance of tribal governments tied together by a common need to
survive on a planet that had no ability yet to grow crops on its
forbidding surface.

This first parliament met nearly night and
day for over one earth month. Each tribal delegation was given its
own quarters within the old Security Forces barracks; and
Architeuthis had only one demand to be placed on all of them: No
weapons of any kind were allowed inside. And everyone observed his
request, out of respect for their spiritual leader. Food was
brought in daily for the delegates to eat; but then they all agreed
to be locked inside their barracks rooms at night so they could
actually feel safe from each other.

Heated discussions often developed during
the parliamentary sessions, but Architeuthis presided over every
session, allowing member delegates to express their personal
feelings and ideas freely. Debates were often intense; but no one
needed to be reminded just what was really truly at stake: the
planet’s own survival.

Once the basic rules and systems of borders
and territories were established, the second big order of business
became literally to "get back in business". And by that, what they
all really meant was this: The Mining Business. There was only one
way they could get food to feed their planet, and that was to trade
for it. Everyone recognized that. And the only things they had to
trade, were mineral ore, crystals, and precious gems. They all
quite immediately agreed and it was all quite simple after that.
Each TRIBE would go back to its newly established territory, and
put its tribal membership back to work. And each of the fifty
tribes would send a hundred workers each to clear out the massive
dirt ramp from the terminal loading bay.

They would need that Earth
Cruiser, after all! The
Anarchy
was now their only means of interplanetary
transportation….

And so, after all the violence and
destruction and death that followed… after all the devastation of
global civil war… it turned out that when faced with the brink of
disaster, the creatures of “New Australia” found they could wisely
halt their own decline into the oblivion and abyss of history. The
end of Warden Ggggaaah would NOT result in the END of New
Australia, after all.

“Welcome to
Staaaaah Pussss-ay
,” a
rather sexy, low, disembodied human voice announced over the
loudspeaker, as the shuttle craft from Pumalar approached its
docking station. The voice continued, “Prepare to disembark… and
get ready for an experience you’ll
nevvah
…
evvah…
wanna
foooh-get
….”

Passengers onboard from three different
species murmured, chattered, snorted, and growled with delight,
including sixteen working class Pumalar males who were arriving
from one of the big cities for a special discount package weekend
getaway. Star Pussy was always putting on promotional packages like
that just to draw in more blue-collar customers. These were beings
who might never be able to afford a vacation like this in normal
circumstances. In fact, for the typical working class male, it
would have cost half a year’s pay—just to spend a week on Star
Pussy.

In addition to about twenty other beings
from various other planets, there were also nine or ten Star Pussy
employees on the shuttle. They were merely heading back to work
after having completed their semi-annual two week shore leave to go
home and visit family and friends on Pumalar. Employees of Star
Pussy lived on-site in several crowded dormitory sectors of the
massive facility. Many rarely if ever even went home, too, because
life on Star Pussy, it was widely known, was just about as fun for
the employees as it was for the guests!

Management always saw to that. Happy
employees meant more satisfied customers… and after all this WAS a
pleasure palace, wasn’t it?

Rex Middlefield was one of those employees
on board. He was excited to be reporting back to work the next day
for his job as a Chef in one of the many fancy restaurants on Star
Pussy. The resort had been open now for nearly a full Earth year
and business was booming. Beings from all over the galaxy flocked
to the converted space station which had been turned into a
floating interstellar pleasure palace. Most came there to escape
the drudgery and monotony of their lives; or because they won some
fantastic prize or lottery back on their home planets. Some, just
like Rex, had come there to start a brand new life as
employees.

Rex was a Caucasian human,
originally from planet Earth. He’d come to planet Pumalar ten Earth
years earlier to seek the good life… by trying to become a male
concubine to a wealthy male Pumalar—or
Fat
Cat—
as the gay guys called them back on
Earth. Back then, when he was in his early twenties, he was exactly
what some wealthy older “Fat Cats” (or
Toms
as Pumalars traditionally
called them) wanted for a lover. Gorgeous, blonde, thin, athletic,
and with muscular bulbous buttocks that some Toms really craved,
Rex fell right in with the “Tomcat culture”. That’s what Pumalars
called the jet-setting lifestyle of the wealthy male socially elite
classes.

His first function had
been to work nights in a Bath House as a personal valet and waiter
to wealthy male customers. Gradually he found ways to work himself
into relationships with some of them, too. His sexual energy and
endurance was vital to his early success in hooking up with a few;
and soon
Toms
started trading him off with one another, passing him around
within their community to try him out. His “dance card” was nearly
always full after only a few short months. And within a year he’d
be getting called late at night for a
Midnight Meow
, or “booty call”
basically, like they used to call it back on Earth.

He learned how to get by and then prosper,
learning quite quickly how to survive as a gay human male on
Pumalar. He learned not to be out during the day, for fear of
getting “clawed” by prejudiced Pumalar bigots. This is what would
occasionally happen to gay human males who came to live on Pumalar.
Working class Pumalars might gang up on a human and mutilate his
face with their claws; just to be cruel. After all, homosexuality
was not only taboo, it was nonexistent among male Pumalars. And
though sex between wealthy Toms and human males was considered
nothing more than a discrete kinky perversion in the elite circles
of society, in the lower working classes, such an act was
considered disgusting.

After all, just like in
any other part of the galaxy, homosexuality was still statistically
quite rare, no matter what the species.
Bisexuality
was more of an
occasional human trait (and more commonly seen among human
females). Only Zorgolongians practiced outright
polyamory.

The thing about human males though, for a
Pumalar Tom, was their versatility. Whereas a human female could
barely handle the physically demanding very athletic sexuality of a
Pumalar; some human gay males found carnal relations with a Pumalar
to be quite appealing and desirable. True, some human females did
kind of like getting mounted ferociously by a Pumalar male, God
love them. But… to endure it repeatedly? Most human women just
couldn’t handle it. And not surprisingly either—because to a
healthy male Pumalar, sex was not finished until he had driven both
his partner(s) and himself to near unconsciousness.

Young virile muscular gay human males just
loved it. And that wasn’t all. Human males only slept for six to
eight hours a day, compared to female Pumalars who slept for a bare
minimum 12. This meant that having a gay human male concubine
serving as one’s personal valet was quite appealing to a wealthy
Tom. And it was so exotic!

The clean, hairless bodies of humans were
exciting enough to begin with for a Tom, but to have a male human
lover who could take a one to two hour session of rough sex, only
to be able to bounce right back the next day waking up seven hours
later fresh as a daisy to make the Tom’s breakfast, clean his
house, or tend his garden… now that was truly amazing. Rex could do
all of that, and for his part, the brutal Pumalar style of
copulating was—to him—the best he’d ever experienced in his entire
life.

Throughout his twenties,
Rex enjoyed being part of the “cool crowd” of sexy desirable human
males, or
Tomboys
, as Pumalars occasionally referred to them. Rex’s notoriety
grew, and Toms knew about him, even in higher ranks of the Pumalar
nobility. These generationally wealthy Toms had vast estates with
harems numbering up to ten or sometimes even twenty females, with
older females relegated to domestic tasks as well as tending to the
needs of the many kittens sired by the master of the
house.

And that was yet another thing that appealed
to a Pumalar about Tomboys. They couldn’t get pregnant. Female
Pumalars bore litters of kittens quite often; and when pregnant,
they were unappealing to most any male. Only Pumalar Empaths were
sterilized or spayed, so that they could not bear kittens. Empaths
were specifically engineered and trained to do nothing but pleasure
their male mate. And Tomboys? Well they were certainly no mind
readers… but they were rarely as emotional or moody as females
either!

Finally, Rex settled in with a Tom named
Rory Panther; and this seemed to set up Rex for good. He became a
comfortable member of Rory’s harem, and able to live the life of
protected luxury, just like all of Rory’s harem. Rory was the 27th
heir to the Panther clan, and found Rex to be remarkably appealing.
Rex learned how to cook for him, and for nearly seven earth years
he served in the master’s house as a chef by day, and occasional
lover by night. Like many Pumalars, Rory could copulate five to six
times a night—if he wished to—and some nights it took a lot of hard
work among his assorted concubines to finally satisfy him.

But finally Rory 27th got old and passed
away. It was inevitable after all: male Pumalars really only lived
about forty Earth years; whereas females tended to live more like
sixty. And with Rory 27th’s death, the estate passed on to Rory
28th. That basically put an end to the good life for poor Rex.
Finding himself suddenly over thirty and not nearly the spectacular
hunk he used to be, Rex was—by Pumalar standards—quite over the
hill. Besides that, Rory 28th was a young virile Pumalar Tom, not
likely to go for sex with a human male. Such a practice was
considered by most Pumalars to be debased anyway.

Rex knew the writing was on the wall, so
after Rory 27th’s fabulous elaborate funeral and cremation
ceremony, he cooked a fabulous meal for the entire Panther clan. He
served it all on the grounds of the estate, and took care of all
the planning for it; as well as hiring the musicians and overseeing
the decorations. It was quite possibly the biggest social event of
the season, for the Pumalar Nobility. They traveled from far and
wide to pay homage to the Panther dynasty; and the sheer pageantry
of the affair was quite simply unforgettable. ANY Pumalar attending
would have come away thinking they’d just experienced something
similar to a funeral for a royal Prince or even a King. It was that
elaborate.

But it didn’t work out completely for Rex.
No other wealthy Toms showed up or stepped forward wanting the now
aged and thinning-haired Rex to go live with them and be in their
harem. And why would they? Rex knew very well he was no more
appealing than an old flabby Pumalar female, anyway. Past his
prime, past his appeal, and worst of all, dangerously vulnerable
now—he was soon to be not only discharged, but homeless… and on a
planet that tended to look down on beings of his kind.

However! Rex did catch a lucky break of
sorts. Rory 28th was deeply touched by the effort and tireless
energy that Rex put into planning and executing such a lovely event
honoring his deceased father. And in Pumalar culture, there is
nothing more important than a life debt or an honor debt. Though
terribly confrontational and stubborn by nature, Pumalar males,
especially in the noble classes, were very strict about their
adherence to rules of tradition. Because Rex had bestowed HONOR
upon the family by putting together such a beautiful ceremony; Rory
28th was compelled to ask Rex, “You have honored my father with
your devotion and service… now you honor my whole family with this
amazing affair today celebrating his life. What is it that you
desire? What may I do for you; in return, human?”