by: Rick Johnson
PO Box 40451
Tucson, Az.

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I sit here in what my protector calls a Shinto Shrine. He says that if I write down what I think and feel, I will heal faster. But he also says that if I give him sex I will heal faster and he looks human and so I don’t believe most of what he tells me. But I find that the more I wrote, the easier it is. I burned the first dozen pages because they looked like animal marks and he had to show me how to use the brush and make ink and what letters were and how they formed words. There is so much to remember but the more I talk and write the easier it is.

Me. I don’t know who I am. He says that I am weir and was made by demons to be a worker or maybe my parents were made to be workers but my parents or grandparents were human and that is uncomfortable to consider.

I remember being on a table, surrounded by humans wearing masks and bright lights and not being able to move and knives and darkness and questions I could not answer and beatings and pain and more knives.

They told me that I was evil and dangerous and it was my duty to help them and they were hurting me for my own good then when I couldn’t answer, the pain started again and the knives.

They were afraid of me and hurt me to learn what I was. I could estann others like me crying and screaming and once a girl, young, a child, being taken screaming then later she stopped screaming and had her throat wrapped up. They did something to her to stop her from screaming but they didn’t do that to me because they wanted me to tell them something I didn’t know.

Once they showed me a man. He was opened and his insides were on trays and they said that would be me and my mother if I didn’t help them. They were scared and some enjoyed what they did and others hated it but did it anyway.

I couldn’t think well. It was all fuzzy and dark especially when they stuck a needle into me and sometimes I would wake up with new scars and I think they cut parts of me off like they did to that man on the table.

Then I almost remember being taken again, but this time there was no fear from the man, just anger and hatred. I remember flashes and sounds like things being dropped and I felt death all around. It was mostly dark and I could see one man, dressed in mottled green clothes pointing something at other men and women who were dressed in white. The same white as those who cut into me. They were screaming at each other and then the men and women in white died. Blood was everywhere and I felt heat, burning then nothing.

I next remember being fed something thick and without taste and swallowing more from need than thought. When I could see a little, I saw a man in black and mottled green feeding me from a bowel, speaking softly. I got scared because whenever they were kind to me, they always followed with pain. Then the man put the bowl on the floor and talked more that I couldn’t understand and backed away.

I tried to see him but my eyes didn’t work well and my head hurt a lot but he had a black shirt with some design on the chest and his pants were the same mottled green that the ones with weapons wore but his feet were bare. I felt his concern but no fear, just some anger but not at me, at others. Then he left.

I was weak but starving and this place didn’t feel like my cell, it felt alive and I saw plants and smelled the sea. I don’t know how I knew it was the sea because I don’t remember ever smelling or seeing the sea before and didn’t even know what the sea was, I only knew that is what I smelled. I loved it. In my cell and the places where they hurt me, I smelled cleaning stuff. Liquids they used to clean my blood from the walls and keep it sterile. But here I smelled the sea and the plants also smelled wonderful.

I slowly ate what I could and tried to look around by my eyes wouldn’t see well. So I ate and smelled until he came back later with more food.

He talked more and sometimes I understood a word but I feared him because all the others who pretended to care for me always watched as another hurt me so I feared that they were just waiting to hurt me more. I did notice that his shirt of mottled green was around me now. The others didn’t care if I was naked and only gave me white things to wear so they could take them away after they hurt me more.

The man was old, his hair white with some brown and he saw through wire and glass and his face had wrinkles but he was kind and I came to believe that he was kind because he was and not because he was pretending. He worked always, making me food that I ate, bringing flowers in for me to smell and talking to me in words I barely understood and he never harmed me for some reason.

Once I saw him under that wood he later told me was a Tori, a sign to a sacred place, and he stared off into the sky and I could feel sadness from him.

When I could move he showed me how to wash myself and then added water and cloths to my food. I think he washed me before like he fed me and I wondered if he hurt me too before because my head hurt and so did my butt.

Then one day four men came to the place. They looked dirty and their hair was black and long and they wore strange loose clothes and carried knives. At first I thought they were finally coming to hurt me again but the man stood between them and me and I could feel anger and fear from him. The four wanted to pass and he turned and saw me watching from the window then faced the others again, motioning for them to go away. I realized that he was preventing the men from cutting on me but they were four and young while he was one and old and they had weapons and big knives and sticks with knives on the end and he had nothing.

Then it happened. One of the four tried to strike the man with his knife. It was big. The blade longer than his arm and I knew that he would kill the old man and then hurt me. But the man suddenly became very calm as if he wanted to die. Then he stepped forward, took the knife from the man, turned completely around and ducked and stuck the knife he had taken from the first into the chest of the man with the long stick-knife. The first man, the one who first held the knife fell down, his head rolling on the ground and blood spewed everywhere. Then my protector stood, pulled the long-knife free and struck the third man who fell, bleeding from a split head. Within a few heartbeats, the man who was kind to me had gone from afraid to wishing to die to killing three men.

The fourth man dropped his knife, screamed and ran off, followed by my protector and I never learned what he did but I walked to the dead and looked down at them. It was almost like my father, the one the bad men had opened up and taken apart. I just stared at them. So much blood.

Then my protector returned, himself covered with blood and he looked at me and I felt concern. He tried to smile but sadness was there and he turned me and took me back inside. Then he left and dragged the bodies away.

When he returned, this time cleaned and with more clothes he had taken from the dead men and washed, he fed me as always and told me that I should have stayed inside. I understood his meanings and he wasn’t angry, just afraid for me. I awoke in the dark and found him asleep, glowing red in the moonlight, that long knife next to his mat in the next room where he always slept and I watched him for a long time, then lay next to him and wrapped his arm around me and fell asleep listening to his irregular heartbeat and slept peacefully for the first time in memory. I knew that no one would hurt me again while he was around.

“Out” I asked the next day when I was eating.

“Out? English?” He laughed and said, “All this time I was speaking Spanglic and you understand English. Now that is curious.” He looked at me in that way he did and slowly reached out to touch my head. “Probably related to the surgery they did up there. They probably did too much damage and you had to re-learn language and since that is what you heard, that is what you respond to. Unless your Grandparents were American or English.” I felt anger and concern and curiosity from him but now I understood almost all that he said.

When I was finished he stood and held his hand to me. I had never seen such a kindness and when I gave him mine, he helped me to stand and I saw how different our hands were. Mine was smooth and white and hairless. His was dark and spotty and had hair growing from the back. Then I saw that he only had one thumb and four fingers while I had three fingers and two thumbs. His smallest finger was like my second thumb. I turned and stared at it as if I had seen it for the first time.

The underside was as while as mine and both had the same lines, he just had only one thumb. Then I looked at his bare feet and mine and saw that his large toe was next to his other toes but mine was nearer to my heel. He couldn’t hold anything with a foot like that. What other differences were there?

He smiled and said to me, “It’s because your are Weir and I am human. Your grandparents were like me but you and your parents are different. I’ll explain later.” Then he led me outside where he showed me the wood arch and said, “This is a Tori. The Shinto make these to show that this place is sacred to the Gods. This building was once a shrine but has since been abandoned for some reason. I’ve been repairing it as I can but food for you is more important.”

He showed me the stream where he took water for my drink and meals and bathing and there was a small pond with insects on it. I could see plants in the water and knew that these were a reflection of the plants overhead so I leaned over to see my own face.

I don’t think I was horrified as much as was he. Anger flowed from him as I touched the scars. His hair was turning white from age but my dark hair was only beginning to grow back. “They shaved your head so they could remove your skull easier and play around inside.”

I saw the scars running around my head, some fresher than others from many times when they went into my brain. I could see my pointed ears and saw his were round. My eyes opened like a cat’s but his were always the same. But one of my antennae was gone, just a fresh scab to show where they had cut it away. They didn’t care about my face, they wanted to see those parts that were different and to see what I looked like inside.

I needed to see more so I removed the shirt I wore, his shirt and stood there naked. One scar ran down between my breasts. Another couple across my belly but my legs were hairless and free of their attentions. I turned and tried to see my butt which still hurt but couldn’t and when I felt back there, I felt a short tail that moved.

“They amputated your tail to see how it worked but the Demons gave you a strong regenerative system and you are regrowing everything. All you need is rest, food and sex to regrow and be normal again.” I didn’t know what sex was but I knew about food and rest for my protector made certain that I had both so he would give me sex when I needed it too.

Suddenly tired, I sat, my stub of a tail moving aside as I sat on a rock and I watched the water run over the rocks. “This is why they built the shrine. To the Japanese this place was so beautiful they believed that only the Gods could have made it.” He was a wealth of knowledge but I knew nothing so everything he said was new.

“What happened to me?” I asked finally.

He sat and stared at the water then began, “Your family came to Earth for some unknown reason. Maybe they wanted to see your homeworld, maybe they were historians trying to learn about Earthlings, maybe they were tourists. I don’t know. But the government captured them and saw their alienness and got scared. But when humans get scared they tend to kill. So the bad ones decided to torture your family into giving them their knowledge and the good ones simply went along because humans are sheep. They follow the strong and the thought that they are accomplices to evil never enters their minds.

“I learned about you and managed to free your mother and younger sister. As they were escaping, I returned for you but got caught. So I had to fight free and found a stargate that brought us here. If you hadn’t been so drugged, we would have ran and joined your mother and gotten away but I couldn’t carry you and protect you at the same time so I took the only way I could to get you away. We are on the other side of the planet, perhaps 500 years in the past. When you are strong enough, we’ll go back and join your family and get you off-world.”

“They did this to me? And my sister and mother and father?”

“They did. When we get you safe, we will return to punish them. But for now, survival is more important.”

“My father is dead. They took him apart to see how he worked. My sister, they cut her throat so she wouldn’t scream any more. What did they do to my mother?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to ask or read their records. I barely had time to destroy most of their notes and even then, I killed a lot of guards and doctors to get you three out. No loss.” He spat that last.

“Are they safe?” I was dead inside.

“I hope so. When you are ready, we’ll go back and find out and help them.”

“I’m ready.”

He laughed. “Not yet. You can barely stand and I cannot save them and keep you and even myself alive until you are fully regenerated. Besides, I am one ageing soldier and they’ll be prepared the next time. I need time to plan and gather allies.”

“I can be your ally.” I wanted to hurt them like they hurt me.

“Child, you are stronger and faster and smarter than any human but you have no training in war. The Demons created you to be a technician, not a soldier.”

“I can learn. Teach me!” I wouldn’t let him refuse. Whatever it took I would do.

He looked into my eyes and softly replied, “Ok, but it isn’t an easy path. Warriors don’t worry about winning or even surviving. They only concern themselves with perfection. Accept that you are already dead and you can focus on the perfection of the move and thus, win.”

“Like you did with those men? You stopped trying to live and won?”

“Something like that. For now, rest, recover and when you are ready, we will begin.”

So I ate. And slept. And rested. Sometimes I rested and slept in my bed, sometimes in his arms and sometimes by the pond. And I regrew fast. I ate far more than did he and slept constantly and my body repaired itself at a rate I remember being faster than even in the evil place. The humans were amazed at how fast my body healed after they hurt me, but here, with rest and food and no more injuries, I healed faster still. My scars on my chest and belly and scalp healed and faded within a few days. My pubes and head grew hair fast and in a few days, my hair was as long as his. My tail didn’t grow fast though. I needed calcium, he told me, to replace the bones or I’d rob my skeleton for my tail and that would weaken me. So he fished and ground up the bones to a paste for me.

I ate everything. I didn’t care if it tasted good or bad, I just ate to repair my body as fast as possible.

After a week I began to notice how good he looked. I watched him in the ocean, wearing just his underwear and caught myself watching his ass as he bent over to pull the net he had made from the water. His body just looked good to me. A part of me saw the wrinkles and scars and still, another part wanted to touch him, to feel his hands on me, roughly.

I looked at the heads of the men he had killed resting on those poles he stuck in the sand, the gulls pecking at them and I wanted to do the same to those who had hurt me and the thought that he had killed evil men to rescue me and my mother and sister, the thought that he had killed those four to protect me, the thought that he would do that again and again made me feel strange. I felt, funny down between my legs and licked my lips and found the wind across them as they dried to be pleasant. I crossed my legs and liked how I felt. So I did it again as I watched him toil in the water for me. For me. He had risked all for me. He had asked nothing from me and he had done whatever he could to make my life safe and comfortable. I kept crossing my legs and then, a shudder ran up my body from the place where I peed. I wanted to hold him so much right then but was too tired to stand up so I lay in the sun, feeling the warm sand on my back through the clothes I wore and fell asleep.

That night when we retired, I removed my clothes and insisted that he do the same. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. Oh, he argued but finally gave in and we lay there with him in his underpants and me naked. I looked him over carefully as he slept, his body so different from mine. He had hair on his arms and legs and chest and face where I had none. His ears were round, his eyes lacking my vertical folds, his forehead smooth of antennae and his chest flat. I lay on my back and watched my breasts flatten and move to the sides but still, they were obviously present and my nipples were red and erect while his were pink and flat. I knew he was a man and I a woman but I didn’t remember what that meant, my brain was still healing and trying to regrow those parts they had removed. How many memories had I lost and would I ever recover them?

I knew he had no tail but there was that bulge in his pants where I was flat.

I slid my fingers down to feel myself, my hair regrowing there and found moisture between my legs. It felt good when I touched myself there and soon found a part that felt really good as I stroked it. I removed my fingers, wet and smelled then tasted them, all the time staring at my protector. Why did he wear those clothes when I was naked?

I touched him, felt him there, firm yet soft then as I stroked I felt him grow large and hard beneath the cloth. He was snoring as he often did and slept soundly so glancing to ensure that he was asleep, I pulled his underpants down and stared at what I saw. It looked familiar, yet new as if I had seen that before and the sight gave me pleasant feelings as if I were remembering something pleasant but could not. Like a mushroom but larger and with a hole in the cap, I stroked it lightly and it pulsed beneath my fingers.

Scared, I replaced his clothing and lay there, in his arms, afraid yet.. wanting more. I found myself stroking my own wetness as I rested my hand on his hard member feeling it beneath me wishing I could remember what to do and then the shuddering began again and again and soon I fell asleep relaxed, smiling and wanting more.

I was alone when I awoke, covered to resist the morning chill and he was making breakfast as he did. Rice, some plants he found and bits of fish with the paste of fish bones mixed with oil. I stared but his pants wouldn’t let me see if he were still hard so I ate what he gave me and asked, “What are we and why are we so different?”

I didn’t understand all that he said and don’t remember it all but this is what I did hear him say, “Fifty million years ago a race of six-limbed intelligent reptiles developed intelligence. But they had a few problems. Their society was homogenous, they were one race with one language so had never seen anything different. They are socialists and so had no greed. They were pacifists and vegetarians so had no war and because of this, they advanced slowly. They finally spread across their part of the galaxy, exploring planets like their own and terra-forming worlds to create places to live as they traveled. But they were cautious and having never seen another race before they never knew other life existed.

“So one day one of their automated ships visited Earth and grabbed a bunch of biological specimens and brought them to their world and suddenly the Demons discovered that they were not alone. They cured the humans of their ills and set them free and the humans spread across the Demons worlds until 500 years later, one group decided that they were more important than the others and started a war that lasted centuries. Entire planets were destroyed before the war ended and the Demons won only because they changed themselves and their human allies into soldiers.

“With the war near won, the Demons returned to exploration but they needed workers to keep their ships running so they took me and your ancestors from Earth and changed us, them, into Weir to work for them. They just didn’t understand why humans argued with this. Everything that you are, your tail and feet and hands are designed for moving around a starship in zero-gravity. Your ears and eyes and antennae are designed to see and hear and sense problems with the ship. And your ability to regenerate are to keep you alive for centuries so you can serve them better.

“Well, they would release their servants after a few years and some of us banded together with humans from Earth who wanted a better life and we settled on a world on the Frontier and the humans who moved there bore Weir children. Your grandparents are humans from Earth who were offered a chance at a better life and took it.

“Sometimes, we return to Earth. We do it to offer colonization to others who are good people, we return to study humanity for someday, earth will develop the ability to travel through space and we need to know how to deal with them, and we do it because Earth is our Homeworld and we miss it.

“I returned for some reason I’d rather not discuss and got stuck there. I’ve been trying to return home for decades because although I was born on earth, I love my adopted home more. That is why we are different. I was born human, you were born Weir but we are both of the same world.”

“Why do the humans hate me so?”

“They don’t hate so much as they fear. Humans are aggressive. They evolved from a predator ape and when one group of humans meets another that is different, they get afraid that the other group will try to steal their food and land and females so they kill them first. It just doesn’t occur to humans to be nice to a new people. So they saw your family and were afraid that you were an advance spy for an alien invasion and instead of talking to you, they reacted with violence. It doesn’t excuse their acts, but it is easier to understand them.”

“I want to kill them for what they did to us.”

“As do I, child. But that will come when it comes. You will live 500 years, the humans less than a century. We have time.”

“You look old. Your heart stutters when I listen to it as you sleep. Are you going to die?”

“We all die eventually. When the Demons took me, they fixed my problems and made me into what you are. But they didn’t fully understand humanity and made mistakes. Like along with the ability to live for centuries and repair injuries easily, they condemned the Weir to a lifetime of sexual need. If you don’t get sex often, you die just as if you don’t get food or water or air. When they turned humans into Weir, they didn’t change our DNA so much as they activated latent genes that we always had. So when a human that has been adapted is injured badly, the regeneration sometimes changes us back into humans again. That is what happened to me. And unfortunately, this human body is fragile and sensitive to human pollutions. So yes, I am dieing. If I can return home, I can be fixed or if I can return to being Weir, I will heal but as for what I am now, well, I have led an interesting life. I’ve lived and loved. I’ve planted trees and fought in wars, watched the clouds drift across the sky and visited the stars. I’ve done a lot and if I die today, my main regret would be in not reuniting you with your family.”

“How old are you? And how old am I?’

“Age is a state of being. This body is old, nearing the end of middle age and falling apart. You? I’m not certain. Weir mature late and stop ageing so I am guessing late teens, no more than twenty.”

“I’ll live centuries? And you won’t last decades?”

“Correct. Here! I am going to teach you the beginnings of fighting. Since you are still weak, we will start with Tai-Chi, or rather something similar. Do as I do. Move slowly, relaxed, feel the Earth beneath your feet, feel the energies flow as you move. Relax and be one with the movement.”

He moved as if he were dancing, slow and relaxed and I could feel tension falling from him as he moved. I tried to follow but could not and he would just continue on, allowing me to follow as best I could. Then he stopped and said, “Try this. Stand on my feet.” And he stood behind me, his male body pressed against my smaller female one. I stood on his feet and grasped his with my tarsial toes for I was much shorter than he and he held me easily. Then he held my arms and began to move again, pulling me as he moved. I could feel his body against mine and couldn’t focus, his breath was so hot and intoxicating as he breathed near my neck, my ear. He turned and moved, taking me along and I wished I were facing him, both naked as he did. I was wet down there again and wished he were hard, I wanted to feel his member hard and pressing against my butt. I wanted more and when he had done the same moves a few times, he released me and said, “Now follow,” and he ignored me as I stood there breathing hard, wishing for his arms again.

“You aren’t trying. Is something wrong?”

I flung myself against him, trying to press my lips against his as I held him and then I felt him harden against my belly and that pressure gave me thrills. He held me away, at least my upper body for I held his butt with my hands, pressing my hips against his. Then he touched my lips and I couldn’t breathe. He stroked my neck and his fingers ran to my breast and I gasped as it touched my nipple.

“I see you are healing nicely. Your lips are red and your nipples flushed. This will help so come with me please.”

I didn’t want to follow so I refused to let go. He laughed and picked me up in his strong arms, those same arms that had killed men to protect me and now held me safe, and he carried me to the Shrine. Somehow this felt familiar as if I had done it before, many times before. He tried to go slow, to kiss me gently but I wanted more now and whatever he did, I replied faster crying, “More!”

I don’t remember removing our clothes but somehow we were naked and I was on my back pulling him to me, pulling at his manhood wanting something but unable to remember. Then he entered easily as I opened for him and I gasped and shuddered as he slid deep into me. This I remembered, the thrusting and crying in pleasure and I wrapped my tarsial thumbs around his ankles as I clutched his ass begging for more, my shudders almost constant.

Then I felt him go harder, then a hot wetness filled me and we both shuddered forever, then lay there, exhausted, his weight comfortably on me.

I could hear his heart beating, his chest against mine, so loud that the fish in the ocean must have heard. I still held his butt, pulling him closer, trying to match our hips, wishing they would never part. But eventually, as I covered his face and neck with kisses, I felt him soften inside and he slipped out and rose himself and looked at me. “I gather you enjoyed that?” He was smiling and so was I so I kissed him again and asked, “Can we do it again?”

I felt his weight lift despite my wishes and he knelt there, smiling as I stretched and said, “Inspire me.”

He tasted like me and more and although my jaw ached at first, I soon relaxed and grew to enjoy the sensation as he grew hard inside my mouth. I wanted to do this longer but he pulled me away and said, “later, but now, and he kissed me long and tenderly and pulled me to his lap where I engulfed him and moaned as I learned or remembered how to move.

This time was better, slower and not as vital and we could kiss and fondle and his lips were everywhere from mine to my neck to my breasts, each time a different pleasure until I was shuddering over and over. I remembered that a man’s second time took longer so I enjoyed as much as I could and welcomed his own as he held me so tight I couldn’t breathe. Then we sat there, him on the floor, me in his lap, our arms around each other matching our heartbeats and breathing.

Finally, I had to say, “I’m starving. That took a lot out of me so as much as I want more, can I eat first?”

He laughed and lifted me off and I heard a sucking sound ad regretted the emptiness that followed. I could have him inside me forever and be happy. Then he stood and I watched his ass as he bent over to fetch his clothes, my nail-marks still visible in his cheeks. When he stood and pulled me to my feet, still naked and feeling him run down my thighs, he held me, kissed me again and had my stomach not been growling so much, I would have pulled him to the floor again.

Then I brushed my hair from my eyes.. my eyes! This morning my hair was as short as his and now it was touching my ears and in my eyes. I moved my tail and it felt longer! I reached behind and felt it almost a foot long. Running after him, I pulled him around and saw he no longer wore his glasses and that his hair was darker.

He didn’t need to ask but offered, “Yes, Weir need air and water and food and sex. Good sex helps you heal and I benefit too. Here, I’ll show you how to cook since I’m not very good at that.”

“My name is Miriam. I remember wishing you would call my name and I remembered what it was.”

“What else came forward while we were engrossed with each other?”

“What came forward were our hips,” I laughed. Then it felt so good I laughed again. I liked laughing. So far today I learned my name, that I enjoyed kissing and sex and laughing.

I sang as I cooked and remembered that I enjoyed singing and cooking. This was the most wonderful day of my life. Sex, laughter, song and my name. Could this day get any better? Tonight, after my stomach was full, I would ride him until I was sore or totally healed, whichever came first.


The next week was a blur. He taught me how to write with a brush and an ink-stone as he found paper for me and I started this journal. I did Tai-Chi and felt the power flow and between that and the sex I healed quickly and he grew younger. “Were I still a Weir, we’d both be healed after one session,” he commented as I lay there panting with his strength. The food I ate in massive amounts was just material to be used to build tissue, it was the sex and exercise that changed it into what I needed. I remembered how to kiss and what and when and learned that I enjoyed his lips on my own as well as my neck and nipples and especially between my legs which he did so often and well I had to beg him to stop and lay on top so I could feel him fill me up before I died from pleasure.

Totally healed, he moved to Karate then Kendo and knife-fighting. He said that firearms are fine but eventually you run out of ammo and sometimes you need to kill silently. The time I defeated him and knocked him down, he laughed, jumped up and held me telling me that he was so proud of me. That night was equally wonderful and as we fell asleep, he said to my willing ears, “Soon we will leave and head for the main-land and seek a stargate that will take us back to your family.”

I was happy and sad at the same time. I wanted to find and rescue my mother and sister whose names I remembered being Stella and Gratia but I never wanted this joy to end. I lay there in his arms, listening to the now-steady rhythm of his heart and wondered what would I find. Most of my memories were still missing and I had none of Earth save of pain and torture. I did have flashes like when I watched the gulls fly overhead and remembered a flock of terrals migrating or I’d bite into a rice ball and remember making rice snacks with my mother to take to my father in the fields, then I’d cry. So they slowly came back to me.

I was wearing what he called a Kisode while he wore the same and a hakama, the kisode being a soft robe that went to my knees but allowed my tail freedom and the hakama being almost like a skirt but actually pleated pants with open sides. He looked sexy in that and I loved how I could hug him then pull his sash which was tied behind and underneath to cause the front of his hakama to fall open and reveal his manliness to my waiting hands or lips or even my breasts at times. Although I loved when he climaxed inside me and that helped me to heal, sometimes I found I wanted to taste it and would feel the saltiness on my tongue before I swallowed. And once I let go and felt it on my breasts and rubbed it into my skin which I became convinced were softer and more beautiful afterwards.

That last night he took me to the beach and stripped me but instead of loving me as I expected, he took his sword and drew a circle in the sand around us. Then he called to the rising Moon and pulled me to him, telling me to think of him being like me, to focus on him being a Weir too. Then we had sex.

I want to say we made love but it was just sex, raw, animal sex and he kept chanting something in Spanglic that sounded familiar but wasn’t though I found it easy to follow. My head swum, I was dizzy as I went crazy rubbing and moving as he grew harder and harder inside, his hands everywhere and no where, and when we both climaxed, I felt like the world had ended.

When the sun rose, the tide lapping at our feet, I saw him standing in the water, naked, his tail splashing in the water, and I ran to him. He was like me now, his ears pointed, his eyes like a cat, his two thumbs and his tail, as long as mine but thicker and stronger. “How much do you remember?” he asked. I held his tail and stared at the tip, compared it to mine and saw the same patterns on the tip as were on my fingers then answered, “about last night? Somehow you were there and someone else was there. I felt like I was there and not there at once, like someone had stepped into my body and pushed me away.”

“Good. You see what happened. Now we are ready. Most humans are kind and generous but they are also afraid of strangers so we must go carefully. They will fear us and there are a few like the ones back at that medical center that we must avoid or kill. But often the evil have power and if we kill the wrong ones, they will take their revenge on the innocent. I’ve kept that boat ready since the bandits arrived a couple weeks ago and we can use it to reach the mainland.”

He kissed me and I wanted one more loving, to see how he felt with that tail so took his tail in mine and called, “First, for me, then we go.”

To contact me or to request topics to be covered, send to RikJohnson@juno.com
by: Rick Johnson
PO Box 40451
Tucson, Az.

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