Vangers: One for the Road(Lostie Softie)

Softie. A blinding flash and intense heat, you awaken to the sound of wet babbling. Hustled to your feet by an array of pincers as you gasp for air. Your vision blurs as you slip out of consciousness, the sound of inane blabbering filling your ears.

The air is damp but not intolerable like before, you take as many greedy breaths as you can. You are Rustled awake by the sound of wet slapping and sucking moving across the metal floor. Entering the room is a grotesque amalgamation of man and insect, you can only compare it to a caterpillar only it is the size of a fully grown man. With Its disturbingly human features like strange lips that seem to part sideways at the top and its flabby hands. They shift constantly over each other, almost human but bloated and wet. Its stumpy feet slap on the ground as it makes its way towards you. Translucent green skin hanging loose on it, giving full view of its inner workings.

You could probably kill it, this sickly abomination struggles to maintain even a steady pace as it stops and heaves. You probably would have tried if it had not been followed in by large carapace clad figures. These are not the same as the degenerate man insect, towering over you they brandish their serrated claws.

They regard you with bulbous segmented eyes as their mandibles shudder in anticipation, dribbling viscous fluid. The caterpillar flaps its lips but utters no words, instead it blurts out yelps and ululations. A primitive and disgusting language to human ears, the guards obey and restrain you. The hard claws dig into your flesh as you are stood upright, the man caterpillar is uncomfortably close now.

It places a hand on your shoulder, again its disgusting lips flap. Not a graceful muscle controlled motion like lips of a human but the limp thrashing of wet skin. While its grunts mean nothing to you obviously the guards understood, they lean in and pull back your head. Your flesh pinched in their grasp, as they get close you can smell their vile musk. A damp rot, like dead fish and decomposing trees.

The Pungent odor makes you gag But thats nothing compared with whats to come. Out of the corner of your eye you notice that the caterpillar now holds a large wriggling grub in its hand. Again the man pupa barks its orders and the guards pull back your head. They pry open your mouth with their pincers, you feel like the carapace claws are going to tear open your cheeks if they pull back any further.

You realize what is going on and it sends you into a full on panic. The filthy bug raises the writhing maggot towards your head, you try to move but the guards hold you with inhuman strength. You scream but are cut off as the caterpillar slides the worm into your mouth. The slippery maggot pushes its way down your throat and you cannot breath, you vomit as you feel it slip down your gullet.

That was a terrible mistake as the bile panics the grub and it pushes its way down against the motions of your esophageal muscles . You wretch once more as you feel it plop and thrash about in your stomach, your vision goes fuzzy as the grub goes limp inside you. Everything turns black and consciousness once again leaves you.

Once again you wake in the metal room, this time with the caterpillar standing over you. It wastes no time and begins to babbler at you, only this time the ovulation’s and grunts start to mean something. It starts to make sense and you can understand its meaning. It goes on for what seems like hours. Its name is Leepky, a Councillor of Podish and its Bunch. It speaks of the chain of worlds and the surface of Fostral up above.

Tales of Vangers, Mechos and how you a Softie will be the first of your kind here. You listen, even though you can make out its language not everything it says makes sense. These strange rituals it seems to talk about with such excitement that seem completely mundane and pointless.

Eleerections and Tabutasks as you understand them are a form of both ritual and work. Eventually you learn Mechos are a form of vehicle used to travel the surface. Dried bugs known as Beebs are the currency on this chain of worlds. Afterwards Leepky explains that you are being sent to a world known as Glorx to meet someone named “Geer'ah”.

You follow the guard bugs to one of the Mechos and are hustled in. The world outside is not totally alien, many of the “mechos” resemble vehicles found on earth while others look more organic. The land is strange as many structures resemble human craft exactly or not at all. Some seem dilapidated and abandoned while others are fully functional. However it soon dawns on you that this is a post apocalyptic society. Living on the remains of ancient technology, they practice endless cult cycles in an attempt to establish a rationale for their existence.

It takes hours but you finally arrive to a massive hex structure on the ground. Your “guard” drives onto it and you feel the same blinding flash and heat from before. With a deafening crack the mechos rattles across the ground at high speed, flung from the portal. If Leekpy was telling the truth then this must be Glorx, the world were you would meet Geer'ah.

Of course you had no idea why you were meeting him. Humans could be a delicacy on this world and he could be a five star chef. You try to put such thoughts out of your head and focus on the landscape. Glorx is an even stranger world than Fostral, mechos drive along sand stone bridges while massive vines run through a bubbling swamp below. With no guard rails and the bridge being very thin  the possibility of an accident seems very real. You don't want to think of what would happen should another mechos try to pass or drive into you.

Looking out at the clear green water below you find it inviting in a strange way, less of a swamp and more of a warm spring now that you think about it. It seems very shallow as you are easily able to see the sand maybe three or four meters bellow the surface.

You arrive at the Escave, a large underground facility were you would meet Geer'ah. Your so called “guard” forcibly pushes you out of his mechos and departs almost as if he was afraid to stick around.  Then you hear it, something slamming the metal floor with a rhythmic clang.

Shifting your gaze into the dark you are greeted with a terrifying sight. A massive creature stands before you, much larger than even the guard insects from before. The clanging caused by eight crab like legs, each one moving independently in an unorganized fashion. As they smash into the ground you notice a large red shell. A bulbous sphere of thorny chitin makes up the monsters upper body, two skeletal arms at the sides. What strikes you the most however is the diminutive head resting on a large folded neck. The face stretches forward with a small snout, adorned with some form of feelers or spines at the front that curve back slightly. Two brilliant emerald eyes stare at you with a half lidded almost lethargic gaze. While tiny antennae extend extend from the back of its head. Its smell is piercing, like that of fetid crab meat and dirt.

It stares at you for a brief moment and begins a guttural rant. It turns out this thing is Geer'ah the enforcer of glorx. His grunts are even less graceful than that of Leepky if  you can believe that. Almost as if it is too lazy to make any other noise but there are slight differences and somehow you manage to understand most of it.

He talks of Glorx and its inhabitants the Beeboorats, and of the inferior Eleepods like the coward Leepky. Strange nonsense regulations set by an alleged buro relating to the seasons and trade. He calls you softie and insists that he is overjoyed to own you.

You are about to protest but the hulking insect grabs you like a doll, its skeletal fingers dig into your flesh as you batter them ineffectually. Geer'ah carries you easily being twice your size, his face seems cheerful as his cheeks puff up and his small toothless maw contorts into a smile. If were not being carried off god knows where you might even consider it cute, but you know better than to trust any of these bugs.

It is futile to strike at Geer'ah as your blows do nothing to even entice a reaction from the mutant, much less loosen its grip. You accept your fate and lie limp in his grasp but are sat down into some sort of cockpit and released. Sitting dejected you ponder the fact that you will never return to your world. Here you will live out the rest of your days as a slave to a giant insect, but Geer'ah says something with those guttural rasps that sparks hope.

“Do you want to go home?”

You look up at the hard shelled brute and cant help but feel reassured. His green eyes half lidded with that little smile ever so sightly pushing his cheeks out. You have no idea if he can understand you or not but you need to try.

“Goddammit yes!”  While you meant to sound firm and adamant it comes out little more than a whimper. Not that it matters if it cannot understand you. You wait with baited breath as Geer'ah cocks his head to the side. His half lidded gaze shifts into one of anger, and your blood runs cold as the quaint smile disappears from his maw.

He barks at you, quite literally then utters several more grunts. He pushes you into the seat and launches into an angry lecture. He scolds you for wanting to leave after he has been so kind as to provide you with a Raffa and Rubbox. You realize that the cockpit you sit in belongs to a small orange Mechos. Geer'ah rambles on about being the first to have a softie slave in the entire chain of worlds and how you will bring him much respect from other Beeboorats. He outlines for you a schedule, head outside and collect Veniagrat. Geer'ah explains how much he enjoys the taste of this savory fruit, and how hard it is to obtain. It only falls from large wafting seed pods, inaccessible to those without a copterig in their mechos.

Such an egotistical insect he insists you should be thankful as other slaves do not get off with such easy jobs. Somehow you are not particularity flattered but you hold your tongue. Geer'ah hands you a small box attached to a translucent orange chain, he tells you to not return unless it is with you. With that the cockpit on your Raffa slams shut and you are flung out of the Escave.

The light mechos soars high into the air, you plummet towards the ground. Instead of crumpling against the ground like a flimsy can the little mechos gently bounces of the sandy bridge and into the swamp below. Gently rocking back in the shallow water the Raffa quickly steadies itself, you sit back in the seat and exhale.
You have to come to terms with your new life on the wretched world, examining the controls on your tiny vehicle you notice that they are shockingly similar to those of a normal car. As you push on the gas the little thing lurches forward, the Raffa is light enough to navigate water easily. You putter off in search of this fruit, if you were going to be a slave there was no reason to waste time lest you anger Geer'ah.

Several months pass as you are ejected from the escave once again, the days are much shorter than on earth but you have grown used to it. Right away you lead the Raffa into the swamp, as you have learned to avoid the main roads.  Hulking trucks rattle across them and have no qualms smashing your little shitbox out of the way, you had learned the hard way after a run in with a Rivet Beir.

This fruit had turned out to be much easier to find than you had assumed, you simply needed to wait for a jagged spore to float overhead. The Veniagrat fruit dropped quite frequently from them. While Geer'ah only ate about two or three fruit a day he still enjoyed a job well done, really he was not so cruel and you had gotten off rather well compared to other slaves. Many of them caterpillar people like Leepky, Eleepods. Geer'ah enjoyed mutilating wayward Eleepods stumbling into Glorx, while many would be sickened you could care less. These Mutant bugs could butcher each other as much as they wanted so long as they left you alone.

To survive you learned to eat the Veniagrat that Geer'ah was so fond of. It was a hard shelled fruit, roughly the size of a coconut. However it was riddled with razor sharp spines, it seemed almost impossible to break. You learned that if you left them around for a few days the spines would drop off and the shell would become soft. The fruit inside was a sour-sweet taste, it had the texture of a peach but had a distinct bitter tang. Not unpleasant in the least, however if Geer'ah ever found out you were eating some of the fruit you would face execution or exile to Necross.

You shudder to imagine how terrible Necross must be if Geer'ah considers that ample punishment. As for sleep you reside within the Raffa, Geer'ah is generous enough to stay in the escave overnight. The little mechos has become your home, while it does not hold a candle to a regular bed it will have to do.

As you sit in your mechos you have noticed a blue mechos flying overhead these past few days. You had heard of mechos like this, based on softie technology with a built in copterig allowing it unrestricted flight. However its cobalt coloration suggests it is from Necross, that puts you on edge as even Geer'ah is not fond of that world.  The way it moves also unnerves you. It wafts about like a drunken fly, no rotors or visible engines on its frame. Still you resolve yourself and commit to the fruit routine.

Within a few hours you manage to collect more than enough Veniagrat for both Geer'ah and for yourself. The little Raffa sways gently in the water as you peel one of the fruits you had saved up. With the push of a button the cockpit flies open and you dispose of the slippery skin. Biting into the tender fruit you ponder your next action.

Having saved up enough beebs you could afford a real mechos, but where would you go and what you do? Would you go back to Leepky, did he know how to get back to earth? First of all you needed to go see Boorawchick, another Beeboorat who sold mechos to slaves. After that you could try and use a spiral station to traverse into other worlds.

You input the coordinates for Boorawchicks escave and putter off. The navigation system these bugs used was based on distance rather than direction, as such it required some trial and error. They did not seem to use meters but a measurement unit larger than that. This meant memorization of paths was much more important than reliance on the built in compass. As you near Boorwachicks escave the more vangers appear, they thunder across the bridges in their deathtraps. Larger mechos command the road and you once again see a foolish raffa pushed off into the water. Many vangers even go out of their way to send smaller mechos to an early grave, surprisingly Beeboorats are not known for their courtesy. Out of nowhere there is a heavy thump and flash of light at the back of the Raffa. The vehicles small frame rattles ferociously, peeled fruit falling betwixt your legs.

At first you assume some wayward vanger had met his fate in the waters but with a glace at the dashboard you see that the Raffas pitiful shields are almost depleted. Something had struck you with the intent to kill. You look out of the cockpit there you see it, the blue mechos that had been hovering over Geer'ahs escave. It flew maybe 4 meters from the water, two Ghorb gears pointed at your tiny mechos. Explosive assault guns used to hunt heavily armored transport trucks now zeroed in on your tiny frame. You hear the distinct thump of a Ghorb gear as it lets loose another shot, smashing into the raffa once again. Thrown back into your seat your shields give out and thin cracks spread across the cockpit.

You feel nauseous and disoriented, every shot is like a jackhammer to the skull. Holding your head you try to stop the ringing in your ears, what the hell does that vanger want from a raffa? No beebs to your name you were not even worth wasting time on. Well perhaps it didn't need a reason, maybe the vanger simply reveled in destroying the weak. Whatever the reason was you braced for the finishing blow, you no longer wanted to look outside. The best kind of death is the unexpected.

Ten, twenty, thirty seconds pass and still nothing. You peek between your fingers and out the window, the cobalt mechos is gone. Maybe this vanger just wanted to give you a scare? If that was the case it sure as hell succeeded. Just as the ringing began to subside it was replaced with yet another cacophony of sound. A piercing screech, like that of a saw cutting metal came from outside. You slam the gas pedal and lurch forward, however you do not move father than a few feet before you stop.

Peering out of the cockpit you see that the Necross mechos hovers above you. A thick steel cable stretching from it to your raffa. Within moments you are in the air, the puttering mechos hoists you higher and higher until you are a good hundred meters above ground. Jumping out or cutting the cable would be suicide. You sit, horrid anticipation building within you.

You fly for hours. Somehow even with the knowledge that you might die, you doze off. You dream of earth and regular people. They go about their day none the wiser that a place like this exists. You had not thought about home in a long time and it opens a fresh wound. The dreams fade out and most everything is forgotten by the time you wake, yet you still long for something you do not remember.

The raffa bangs against the ground and you smack your head on the steering wheel.  The blue Mechos lands a few meter’s away. You have no idea were you are, Geer'ah had never let you venture really far from his escave. Watching the other mechos intently you waited for movement, no way you were going to get out first. You looked a mess anyways, the months on Glorx had really taken their tole, even with meticulous care of your clothes they were scuffed an tattered. You had found a crude helmet outside an escave one time and decided to wear it. Deep down you knew the tin can provided no real protection but still you felt safer with it. While you used the water to wash and dry yourself and your clothes you still ended up smelling like rust and sweat at the end of the day.

You see the gleaming cockpit of the other mechos open and a robed figure steps out, no doubt some Necross horror concealing its looks. Your face practically pressed up against the glass you watch it walk towards you. It seems to wear a dark blue robe of some sort, the robe does a good job of hidding most of its body but as it nears you can see its head clearly.

It is the same species as Geer'ah, with the same snout at the very least. Not a denizen of Necross but another Beeboorat. Still it is quite different from him its snout slightly elongated with the front spines less pronounced than his. Its eyes smaller and slightly more ovoid but nonetheless emerald green. The antennae at the back much longer than that of other Beeboorats, and you notice within its maw small razor sharp fangs. Unlike Geer'ah who prides himself on having a thick and corpulent neck it was thin and well toned. The vanger also seemed to lack the massive red shell characteristic of its species, the neck connecting to a torso concealed by the robe. In fact the coloration of its carapace was a deep cobalt blue, the softer skin on the neck was still tan like on other Beeboorats.

You were now face to face with this strange vanger, a plane of cracked glass separating you. It reached out of the robe and began tapping on the cockpit. Its arms covered with chitinous plating with tan skin in-between its joints. Unlike The skeletal hands of Geer'ah it had four fingers with harder shell on the top and softer skin on the bottom. Still with sharp spines on the end you shuddered to think how easily it could rend human flesh.

It spoke, not guttural barks and grunts like Geer'ah but higher pitched growls and hisses. You had been able to understand their language ever since ingesting that horrid maggot, not that you wanted too. You had no idea how they communicated with themselves especially since each vanger seemed to have their own piercing cry.

“Come out softie, all I want is talk. I have no reason to kill a pathetic fritter like you.” While its sinister appearance said otherwise it did not seem to be lying, it could easily have killed you back in the swamp.

The cockpit pops open and you stare at the vanger, not as tall as Geer'ah either. It was only two heads taller then yourself in fact, still it was not something to be trifled with.

“Do you like being a slave to Geer'ah, you like watching his neck fat while he gorges himself on fruit?”

You have no idea what to say, the vanger throws accusations as if you had willingly jumped into his arms.

“What could I have done? You should know that he has the entire Buro under his command, he would have me killed for doing otherwise!” Exasperated and exhausted you have no idea what else to say, what the hell does it want from you?

“No other slave would lower himself to that level, you have driven a Raffa for months and accomplished nothing.”

It smiles at you, a barred toothy grin. You never expected it to be such a smug thing. It seems to be doing the most in its power and edge you on.

“look what do you want from me?” Honestly at this point you want nothing more than to go home, the months of mind numbing fruit collection and servitude have really taken a toll.

“I want to know about your world softie, you came to Leepky from somewhere. You are not from a lostie escave, those have been abandoned for many seasons. Tell me about your home and I will  help you return.”
Your eyes brighten and you look up at the Beeboorat, that sly toothy grin still plastered on its maw. It really knew how to push your buttons.

It hurts to talk about home. Your time here you had learned to not think about earth, it let you focus on your “work”. The vanger badgers you with questions and you try your best to explain it in way it would understand. You talk about the the solar system and each of the planets. However you struggle as the alien has no concept of planets, they reside on continents only traversal able by portals, they had never achieved space travel. No understanding of law or society as you know it, the vanger sees nothing wrong with murder for self gain. The bug cannot fathom why a child would stay with its parent, it does not know why we do not use our mechos to fight. Strangely enough it feels good to open up, to talk and explain. Even if it is with a warrior insect that murders for sport.

“Are you softies naturally without musk? Such sad little pilgarlics you must be, or are you female and simply cannot keep yourself off of Geer'ah?”  This threw you for a loop, it made such snide accusations. Every time it managed to surprise you.

“Well er, no we bathe t-” You stammer out awkwardly but are quickly cut off.

“Only females bathe fritter, why would rid yourself of musk? How strange your way of life is, I had thought you softies were smart but you are even more foolish than the Eleepods.” It again brandishes a smug grin, if you had learned anything about Beeboorats is that they enjoyed fucking with you.

Still you could not help feel amused, if anything you felt it was much more of a friendly teasing than adamant insult. You for a while, about human food of all things. Really it only serves to confuse the alien and makes you hungry for a burger.

“Well softie I am afraid we will be able not continue our chat, we must head to Necross before night cycle begins and I must clean before we depart.” The vanger hisses and you don’t detect the same playful tone as you did before.

“Wait didn't you say only females bathed?” You aren't sure if you heard the vanger correctly but you sure didn't forget what it had said before.

“Such a good memory you softies have, is that all your bios knows how to do properly?”

“But that means you are female?” You genuinely had no idea and had simply assumed the vanger to be male like Geer'ah. You felt embarrassed and did not know why, its not like the bug would take offense or anything.

“You did not see until now? Remember fritter you are not supposed wash out your eyes when you clean.”  The vanger sounded genuinely hurt and annoyed, its sharp hisses punctuated with a scowl.

“Well softie since you are so fond of water why don't you go clean first?” Once against it barred its razor fangs. “If you don't you can drive to Necross yourself”

You glare at the vanger and clamber out of the raffa, nearing the riverbank you strip off everything except your undergarments. You weren't about to set up some kind of alien peep show, just as you are about to dip a toe into the water you hear the vanger hiss once again.

“You bathe in your clothes softie? I knew you were stupid but this makes no sense, surely you do not want to wear wet clothing. We have no time for it to dry fritter.”

“I am going to keep this on, you see it is part of our culture to bathe like this. You would not interfere with softie tradition would you?” Happy with your excuse you put your foot into the water, it is quite warm and inviting.

“Remove it or will corpsificate you softie, I do not want your wet articles in my mechos.” The Vanger hisses and you practically jumped out of the water, you had no fucking idea what “corpsificate” meant but you could make a pretty good guess.

Quickly you remove the tattered underwear and toss them into the pile, you waltz into the water before the Beeboorat can see anything. The vanger walks forward and removes its cloak, a mass of horrifying tentacles burst out in every direction. Well at least that’s what you thought would happen, it looks far different than you had imagined.

Like Geer'ah she has a rounded blue shell on the upper torso, however it it much smaller  than Geer'ahs and does not give the impression of a hunch. It also seems to lack the bumps and spines that that mark it, instead is is smooth like the shell of a beetle. Her abdomen is slim with bands of blue carapace running along the side. The soft flesh is a tan color like her neck. Instead of many crab like legs the Beeboorat stands on two digitigrade legs. Wide hips support long powerful legs, while mostly covered in carapace its inner thighs are not presumably to allow unrestricted movement. Still the legs are surprisingly thick as compared to the spindly appendages of male Beeboorats.

The Vanger quite literally bounds over, its lithe figure quickly submerging under the water.  It moves very rapidly under the water however the way it moves is nothing like any animal on earth. Its legs trailing behind while it skitters across the sand with its arms.

Suddenly it changes direction and bolts straight at you, trying to run back you trip and fall backwards into the water. You rub your eyes to rid them of water. You look up and again you jump as you see the vangers face inches from your own, its pure green emerald eyes gazing deep into your own. It breaks contact and sits up on its knees, giving you room to move.

“So you softies just have your organ hanging out all the time? Is this why you wear the white bandage, to make up for your shortcomings in the genetic lottery?”  Its coy knowing eyes look you over, it knows exactly how uncomfortable you feel. It really enjoys making you squirm.

“Wa- I just did what you sa-” you don’t even get a chance to stammer out an explanation.  Once again you are cut off but not in any way you could have predicted.

The vanger shoves her snout into your crotch, the smooth carapace rubbing against the base of your cock. Her warm husky breath penetrates your groin, she inhales deeply and you shudder.

“So not only do the softies have good memories, they also lie about having no musk.” The vanger practically spits it out as her maw hangs open, a forked tongue darting between her fangs.

Again she shoves her face hungrily into your groin and inhales all the hairs your back stand on end. She exhales, her hot breath perminates your body. The Beeboorat puts her dexterous tongue to work on your balls as she progressively slathers every nook and cranny. Smooth and worm like, her tongue moves on to your member coiling around it. With all this attention you are rock hard, as she wraps the dexterous muscle around your cock. She unravels outward, completely wiping the shaft clean but stopping just before the head. Pure coincidence or intentional you have no way of saying. What you do know is that she has been trying to get a rise out of you ever since you met. While she certainly achieved that it did not stop the vanger from teasing you some more.

She slides the tip of her tongue across your head, slowly and deliberately. You cant stand it and thrust forward in a desperate attempt to gain more purchase. Instead she pushes you down, her clawed hand holding your chest in place. Still you keep thrusting your hips into her tongue, the slippery flesh shying away from your own. After this display she finally submits, engulfing your your cock completely. While it seems animalistic and haphazard the Beeboorat is gentle, she does not want to nick you with one of her teeth. You cant take much more, the excellent control of her tongue drives you near the edge very quickly.  She wraps around the base of your member and massages the bottom of your shaft, the forked tip of her tongue ever so slightly flicking the bottom of your head. It is too much to handle and you moan, your cock jerks and and starts to shoot deep into her mouth. She does not stop, with every thrust she pushes as much cum as she can from your balls.  Once again she fully engulfs your cock, pushing the final strands through her tongue.

You lay on the warm sand, spent and satisfied. The Vanger hungrily swallows the rest of your seed, obviously content with her end of the arrangement.

“Out of all your inane softie traditions, I don't mind this one.  I'm still not particularity fond of you fritter but maybe that is also an acquired taste.”