Chapter 3

On Earth 0

My new ship ‘99 Red Balloons’ can now cruise Earth 0’s waters and the sky. She had me walk towards a blank space on the nearby wall. As I neared it, a phantom-looking doorway became visible.

It sharpened as I approached it, and I saw what appeared to be an upside-down ankh symbol. I realized from a hidden memory that it was a logo for a galactic portal company. The memory had been planted during a visit to the ship. I was now authorized to use part of the network myself.

The Heillizdt purchases the alien portals. Only approved beings can see and use the portal doorway. The Heillizdt had paid for a hub that controls all the portals they use. An AI, of course, handles the daily use of their portal network.

99’ had me step through it and be transferred from the ship through a portal at my house. This one is in the garage. Glancing back at the now-closed portal, I saw a phantom-looking doorway like the one I’d just exited from.

I am home because Drozul has a rescue mission for me on Earth 23. It’s Anna Collins’ rescue mission. She lost a leg in an accident. After they regrew her leg and boosted her metabolism, she will become my protector.

I called Bob and CeeCee. They were not busy, so I had them prep the jet. I’d finally get another ride on it. I used it less than once a year on average. I ubered a ride to the airport.

We flew directly to Memphis. I told Bob and CeeCee to text me where they were staying. I may be going back as early as tomorrow.

When I rented a car in Memphis, I got a plain white Chevy. I have yet to learn how bad Anna Collins’s neighborhood may be, though I wanted to avoid standing out.

Drozul had previously had her contacted by phone. A “Tom Morgan” was coming, and he needed to discuss her insurance with her.

She currently could not get insurance because of the high cost. She was told a wealthy benefactor from her fighting days would pay for her recovery. She needed to be interviewed so our insurance company would know how much to charge him.

It sounded enough on the up and up.

Geez, Louise, what a neighborhood. This place was built around a century ago, in the 1930s or 40s. Her place was a one-bath, one-bedroom puny dump of around 450 square feet. It was a falling-down shack if I had ever seen one.

There was no doorbell, so I knocked loudly.

I heard a muffled, “Be there in a minute.”

A bit later, the door opened, and a one-legged woman on crutches held it open. She was only wearing a disheveled house dress.

I had my name tag with a fake insurance company name on my jacket. I said, “Miss Collins, I’m Tom Morgan. I’m here to discuss your health insurance and assess your needs.”

She said, “Is this on the up and up? It sounds too good to be true.”

I said, “No, ma’am, if you accept our insurance policy, you will be fully covered medically for the rest of your life. This is thanks to a benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous.”

‘He’s named Drozul - snicker.’

She said, “It really sounds too good to be true,” as she opened the door wider.

As I slid by her, I touched her lightly. She cringed a second as she got the full impact of my pheromones through her pores and nose. I turned and kissed her lips with my wet lips. Her breath was stinky; I assumed that was because her belly was empty. It’s growling loudly.

After I kissed her, she was mine to keep if I wanted her. I closed the door. For some reason, she was a little unsettling to me. It wasn’t only the leg or the poverty, either.

I picked her up by her ass and gave her a good kiss with lots of tongue. She was not very expert at kissing. I began to wonder. Something is odd.

“Drozul, what is her age?”

He sent, “She is 23. She had barely turned into a professional MMA fighter when her car accident occurred to ruin her career.”

I sent, “She kisses like a little girl. You might have a virgin here. This may be more complicated than you expected. I have doubts about her.”

He sent, “Nonetheless, she meets our criteria. Ships-Beings have cleared her. She has nobody. She needs us, we need her. Are you not wanting to deflower her or some other such nonsense?”

I sent, “No, that’s not it. If she is a virgin, you guys can fix that when she gets there. Is she intended to be a concubine?”

He sent, “Of course. Otherwise, she might become a danger to you; it seems like a remote idea. We know concubines never kill their masters. She will get the behavior overlay on top of her own mind.”

I sent, “OK, that’s the answer I was looking for. I have noticed concubines are fine. For some reason, I don’t get as deeply involved with them emotionally. I guess it’s the humble behavior that mildly turns me off.”

I continued, “I prefer a woman that bites me occasionally. She keeps me alive, so I keep trying. I like a bit of piss and vinegar. I do prefer women like Amber and Connie, who are more free-range. I won’t worry about all that, but the full-on concubines seem humble, overly submissive servants.”

He sent, “As it should be. You are a special being; accept that. It would be best to have body servants to care for your every need. Remember, you have an audience that appreciates your living in style. They are there for you. You rate as many of them as you want. For this service, they get reliable, clean sex, a long life, and extraordinary food and living conditions.”

Loudly, I asked, “Anna Collins, I would like to take you to be treated right now. Would you like your leg back?”

She looked at me in wonder and said, “Yes, please,” she appeared still very muddled. Grabbing her by her ass may have really confused her.

I sent, “Tuucco, please do your thing.”

Tuucco sent, “It’s done, Tom. You can take her outside now; she’s asleep.”

I sent, “Tuucco, invisibility mode, please; coming outside now.”

I picked her up and carried her outside. I saw a nebulous-looking basket visibly appear and placed her into it. She and the basket faded skyward.

I went back in and started to collect any keep-sakes I could find. Sadly, it looked like she had nothing worth keeping, no pictures, no nick-nacs, nothing at all.

The few kitchen items she had were from a second-hand store. They were worn and useless. After her extended visit to the hospital, she had evidently lost everything of personal value.

I sent, “I think I am done here.”

He sent, “We will email her landlord saying she had to leave abruptly for health issues and would not be back. Like I said, she has no family, no close friends.”

I sent, “OK, I will rest today and head back tomorrow morning.”

I drove the unexceptional white Chevy back to the airport hotel where I was staying. I texted Bob. He texted me back with his hotel and mentioned that we should leave around 10 after the bulk of the major carriers were done flying out. I agreed.

The hotel was nice enough that I felt safe ordering two lobster tails with coconut shrimp and a big Caesar salad. I went upstairs to my penthouse suite. I soon went to bed and watched some TV from bed. What a waste—nothing but nonsense to watch. I should have gone to the bar and picked someone up. I started to slide into sleep.

Nope. Sleep was not happening, so I dressed nicely and went downstairs to the piano bar. I walked in and ordered a Jack Black on the Rocks. I sat there and people-watched.

I eventually picked out a table with three women sitting together. They were in their 20s to 40s. When I ordered my next round, I asked my server to keep their drinks coming and put them on my tab. I showed her my penthouse room card so it would be charged to that.

After the second round of drinks, one of the women came over. I stood up and reached out for her hand. She looked muddled a little, and I gave her a brief wet kiss.

I said, “Good evening, darling, I’m Tom Morgan.”

By reflex, she replied, “I’m Cameron Walker.”

I said, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

She said, “You’re buying us drinks? Are you trying to get us drunk?”

I said, “No, not at all. You three are all beautiful ladies. I like beautiful ladies. What about your friends?”

I knew the muddle would help prompt her answer.

She said, “Georgia is suspicious of strange men, and Jasmine is married. I was sent over to see what’s going on with you. If you’re not dangerous, Georgia would like me to bring you back to our table to talk. Jasmine says she does not want that. It’s complicated for her.”

She spoke straight out with no filter; the muddling had confused her brain.

Drozul sent, “Cameron is a flight attendant, and so is Georgia. Both are single. Jasmine is also a flight attendant, but she is married. Unfortunately, she’s not happily married. All the flying she and her husband do seems to be in the midst of unraveling their marriage. Cameron and Georgia are likely on birth control. We can see that through their company insurance website.”

He sent, “Uh, we do not see any birth control for Jasmine West. OK, that appears to be the big issue between her and her husband. We see records of her trying for several years to get pregnant. He is on the verge of finding another woman. Uh-oh. He seeing another woman on the side. He’s seeing her even as we speak. She’s a much younger woman.”

He sent, “We think you should bed all three. With Jasmine, if you have qualms about fucking her, eat her out good, and be sure to wet her pussy copiously. That way, she still gets a heavy dose of Exo’s at both ends. We’ll fix her fertility for her.”

Cameron took me by the hand and led me over to their table. We spent over an hour talking and drinking. During that time, I got kisses from all three girls, and they could not keep their hands off of me. We three knew where this was going. Tiring of all the yack-yack, I invited them to my penthouse suite for champagne.

I had the server send up three bottles of a good bubbly. When we arrived, I saw a bellhop leaving the door to my room. I gave him a 50.

We went in, and Jasmine opened the first bottle and poured the champagne.

The room has a hot tub, so I started filling it. When it was full enough, and I had it circulating water, we stripped to our underwear to get in.

It shocked them when my boxers dropped. I stepped slowly to the tub and slowly sat. It provided a good floor show for them. They stared at my big cock, still soft. They were obviously enthralled by my size. Between my hormones and their obviously aroused interest, I could not wait to fuck these stunning babes.

Three hot flight attendants? I sure fell into it tonight. This was likely to be a night to remember.

I sent, “Drozul, I want videos of this night. I want to look back at this when I am too old to walk. Look at these babes, Fuck Me!”

Georgia said, “Jesus, would you look at the size of that freekin’ sausage?”

Cameron, the youngest and probably least experienced, put her hand to her mouth. She didn’t say a word; her eyes said it all, and my big cock was somewhat of a shock.

Jasmine said, “It’s not even hard yet.” She smiled when she saw me. She looked me up and down. I now know what a female nude dancer feels like when they get leered at.

The three mutually decided they could at least lose their bras. I was soon presented with three sets of distinctly different tits. All three pairs are charming.

Jasmine wore high-cut bikini panties, and Georgia wore a lacy-looking white pair. Hers is moderately chaste and sweet-looking. Cameron wore a thong that left nothing to my imagination, as it just barely covered her mons. Her thong moved about playing peek-a-boo.