hellison | A story, for thesme

A story commissioned by Thesme, to include - pixies, penii, the serengeti, tigers, her, david niven, william shatner, PIE, weevils & mr thesme.

I really don't have much of an idea where this is going. And it's getting long ;p I shall add more later - unless someone else wants to take up where i've left off ;p

The Great Hunt

“Once upon a time, long ago and far away, the plains of the Serengeti were lush, fertile and filled with tiny frolicking pixies. All day long they frolicking and gambolled. Wings a-fluttering, they danced amid the grasses around the fertile deltas, happy and gay all day long. Occasionally one would be snapped up by a passing lizard, but on they would flutter.

They were most commonly to be found around that other most elusive creature of the serengi – the tonker. Vast herds of these shy and delicate creatures migrated every year across the vast plains to the deltas, to feast on the lush grassland and shelter amid the dense and leafy bushes.
A very social creature, the tonkers would graze while some kept look out – little heads popping up from the swards to check for danger, crying out a warning that would have the whole herd diving into deep holes for safety, only emerging again when the coast was clear...”

A voice called out, shaking the delectable Thesme from her reading. It was the handsome Prince Thesmethetatron, her consort and leader of their people, the noble and ancient race of ArelaVed.
‘Oh mrThes, my darling mrThes, we must go to this ‘Earth’, we simply must! These pixies would look wonderful in the gardens of our palace at Newoshini and a little herd of these Tonker would complete my collections here perfectly!’

MrThes looked lovingly down at his cosort, as she oozed her pit of succulent slime, slurping seductively as she wallowed. Reaching out to stroke one of her protruding feelers with his own, he agreed, for how could he deny such dripping magnificence?

“I shall prepare the spaceships at once, and alert our finest Tracker, for no-one is more skilled in the hunt and capture of animals like this Tonker than she.”
“Yes yes” blurbled Thesme from her pit “we must take Nosilleh – tho make sure she knows we want some of them ALIVE this time. Her trapping and preservation skills are second to none, and her arrangments of the jars so beauteous, but I have a longing to see these tonkers popping up around my own lush bushes.”

He smiled indulgently and sent a message off via the jungle drums that were their people’s main means of communication. They would need an earthling to help them on this quest and he knew just the man. A brave and daring captain of many a perilous voyage through the stars, he had landed on their planet many years ago and they remained firm friends to this day. An underling scuttled in with a communicator.

“Thank you Roddie” the prince nodded graciously “inform Nosilleh we will see her in half an hour – and prepare yourselves for a voyage”.
“Nik NIKNIKNIK” replied the faithful minion, and, dipping his feelers respectfully, he hastened off to do his master’s bidding.

MrThes flipped open the communicator. A striking, once handsome, face appeared on the screen “Good. Evening. Your. Highness.” The voice came through clear and true “I. Understand. You. Have. Amissionforme to. Undertake.”

“Greetings, oh mighty Shat, we do indeed have a mission. We wish you to take us to Earth. My glorious queen, may she drip slime forevermore, wishes to go ahunting of the tonkers. And what she wishes, she must have!”

“Certainly. She. Must. Iwillarrange. Transport. Today.”

Details were finalised and, once the matter of transport arranged, the Prince summoned in the mighty huntress, Nosilleh. She was not of the ArelaVed, but belonged to a sparser race who lived far to the north of their planet. A tall and fearsome people, despite lacking the protruding feelers and malodorous slime glands that marked out the ArelaVed as noble, the hunting clans possessed instead fierce heads of sentient hair, that wound and hissed like snakes and could trap any unwary creature unfortunate enough to get too close.
A faint spell of apples preceded the huntress, seeping from the jars always kept about her person, containing the closely guarded secret of her special preserving fluids. Once dipped and kept in these jars, her specimens retained all the appearance of life, floating as if trapped in time, never aging, never decaying.

He explained their mission, particularly the part about bringing back *live* specimens this time, and the huntress listened and merely nodded in response, bowed and left to prepare herself. A creature of few words, she wasted none, the prince mused, as the faint smell of apples still lingered in the air.

But this was not time for musing. He must go to his queen and prepare for departure. How she would drip and ooze for joy! Her secretions would know no bounds! He felt very pleased with himself indeed.

To be continued...

Captained ably and manfully by the brooding genius of Shatner, the spaceship bearing its precious cargo of ArelaVed Royalty, and their army of chittering minions made its way to Earth. Sliding his powerful vessel smoothly onto the soft, yielding ground, Shatner breathed a heavy sigh of satisfaction at yet another job well done, then addressed the crew.
“Away team. Prepare. To. Set. Up. Camp. Cloakingdevice forship. Engaged. Shat Out”.

At once a hoard of giants space weevils, who for aeons untold had served the Roayl family, poured forth from the ship and began to erect the camp, digging out a cool, moist pit for her Most Oozesome Majesty to wallow in, covered by a silken canopy to protect her beautifully pallid grey skin from the fierce rays of Earth’s sun.
In charge was Chief Lieutenant and most favoured minion, Roddie, scuttling to and fro manically, he oversaw every aspect of the work, making sure everything would be done to their majesties' satisfaction.
However suddenly he paused, feelers twitching. Something wasn’t right! The huntress strode off the ship, hair sniffing at the breeze and behind her scuttled… Roddie groaned. How dared he??
NIKNIKING furiously he rushed over ‘SORLEYBOY WEEVIL’ he cried “What are ye doing here? After the DS9 debacle, I thought we had agreed you wouldnae leave the homeworld again??’

“NoknokNOK” muttered Sorley defiantly “SHE (waving a feeler at the huntress) brought me. She wants my help in the hunt!”.
Antennae drooping in defeat, Roddie turned to the huntress
“Good for hunting pixies” was all she said, then strode off, motioning for Sorley to follow, which he did, with a backward wink at the fuming lieutenant.

Deep into the bush she went, the faint aroma of apples always surrounding her. Sorley scuttled along behind, alert and seeking any trace of pixie. And there it was! With a near silent ‘nok!’ he prepared, as the huntress readied her jars. Just ahead, a small glade opened within the bush and there, two pixies, doing their merry dance of joy, totally oblivious to the danger. Arranging his legs carefully, Sorley POUNCED, pinning the feeble creatures to the ground.
“Fuck me” squeaked one of the frail fairies “what the fuck is that? Callum? Callum?”
The other pixie could only sigh “hugh...” before passing out. The huntress patted Sorley on the back saying simply “That’ll do, weevil” before scooping the specimens into a large jar and heading back for camp.

Soon however they realised with a sinking sensation that the hunters had become the hunted. Sorley scrambled up a nearby tree and nearly fell out of it again with shock – stalking silently behind them was an enormous, but lean and hungry looking tiger; bouncing along behind it were two tiny tiger kits, aping their mother’s movement in between bouts of attacking each other, the grass, some dust and anything else that moved.

“Camp. Get Help.” was all the huntress would say, before suddenly darting towards the tiger and luring it off. Sorley scuttled as fast as his many legs would carry him – the huntress would draw the tiger away from camp and the queen, but she couldn’t outrun it long, and even her ferocious hair might not be enough. He ran and ran and ran before collapsing , panting at Roddie’s feet, gasping out his story.

The weevil army marshalled, Prince Thesmathingy at their head, the Shat at his side. Thesme blurbled anxiously and squirted out jets of worried slime. And then, a shot rang out and the plains fell silent…

It keeps getting LONGER. but. One more installment should do it. But now? I really should do some work ;p

There was a moment of shock, then en masse, the weevil army charged off in the direction of the shot, with just a cry of SHAT! Protect the queen, the prince charged with them. Through the verdant bush they ran, uncaring who saw, wanting only to find this possible threat to their beloved, slimy oozing queen and end it as quickly as possible.
They halted in their tracks however, when they saw Nosilleh running back towards them, unscathed.

The weevils chittered impatiently until silenced by the Prince.
“What happened? Who fired that shot?” he demanded
The huntress caught her breath and calmed her hair, which was still writhing in panicked attack mode, tying itself up in knots and hissing with bad temper. ‘Don’t know. But it scared off the tiger; it ran the other way with cubs. The queen is safe from that. Tracking whoever fired now!”

The Prince sighed in relief – no ferocious beast, no matter how furry and slinky, would be sinking its teeth and claws into his Queen’s slimy succulence now. Slowly however, the import of the rest of the hunter’s words sank in. Tracking the shot… back towards them…
“But the Queen! Whoever fired that would be heading straight for her! She has the Shat for protection true… we must hurry HURRY!”
Roddie turned to give the order to march back and realised, with a sinking sensation that someone else was missing.
“She hasnae just the Shat you highness. Sorley is back there too…” His words trailed off, no idea if this was a blessing or a curse. Given previous situations tho -
“MARCH” screamed the prince “AT THE DOUBLE!!!”
With a deafening clatter of legs, the Weevil cohort wheeled, shells gleaming silver and gold in the bright sunlight and began the march back to camp.

But someone else had beaten them to it. Standing in the shadows, gazing in awe at the sight before him, was a tall, lean and handsome human, dressed all in khaki and sporting a well trimmed moustache.
His normally suave appearance almost left him as he stared at what was under that silken canopy, unable to tear his eyes away. The roundness. The pertness. The curves, moulded into two perfect halves. Surely this was the most voluptuous bottom that had EVER been seen?
How had it come to be here? And to whom did this proud beauty of a behind belong? And what was that SMELL? Hardly daring to breath (in case he was overwhelmed by the fumes), he waited, with a patience learned over years of hunting, to see.

As if feeling eyes upon him, Shatner stood up – he had been bending over the Queen’s pit, reassuring her that all would be well. He scanned the edges of the camp – he could see nothing! But there was a presence. Something – someone was out there. With a click of his fingers, he sent Sorley, who had been nestling under one of the tents, scuttling off to look. With a triumphant ‘NOK NOK! HAVE AT YE!” he pounced on the intruder, thrusting him into the waiting arms of Shatner!
Furiously the two men grappled! Wrestling in the mud churned up by the weevils' many feet, they clung to each other. Shirts were torn off! Bared chest met bared chest, slippery with mud and ooze. Shorts, soaked and straining gave way. Eventually the Shat pinned his now naked captive to the ground.
“Who. Are. You?” he demanded “And. Why. Areyouspyingon. Us?? Answer. Me!”
Gasping for air, the stranger just said “David. Not Spying. Magnificent… bottom!”.

Blinking in surpise the Shat stared down. Took in the chisled features, the earnest gaze and fine, lean body beneath him. “Bottom?” he asked, perplexed
David grinned “Bottom. Magnficent. Haven’t seen one like that in years old chap! Couldn’t help m’self”
Trying desperately to regain control of the situation, Shatner tried not to let his pleasure at this flattery show. He had to shift position a bit to hide it. “That. Shot. Didyou. Fire. It?”
David shifted too, having noted his captor’s… pleasure. “Why yes old bean. Was out studying the Tonkers – I’m a naturalist y’know – heard a commotion. Saw some young filly being chased by a tiger, so fired a shot to scare the beastie off. They can be nasty when they’ve got cubs.” Came this way to see if any more help was needed. But I can see you’re managing just fine!" He ran his eyes over his captor "Oh yes, bally fine! Hunting party is it?”

Hearing this, the Queen, who had been almost submerged in her pit, arose.
“Tonkers?? Did you say Tonkers my good man? Release him William, bring him to me! I must and shall have Tonkers!”

David, normally unflinchingly brave, quailed slightly at the beslimed apparition before him. Raised out of her pit, grey skin gleaming as the sun refracted off her slime, the queen was an awesome sight indeed. Pulled to his feet, he was grateful for the reassuring hand of Shatner on his shoulder. And that other hand, which wasn’t exactly reassuring, but was a welcome distraction…
The queen coughed meanfully.
“Ah yes. The tonkers! Very cute little beasties, very shy, unless you handle them just right! Would you care to see some? Or perhaps – have you eaten?” He eyed Shatner. That bottom must not be allowed to lose one inch of its delciously ample curves. “They do make a rather delicious pie!”

And thus it was, not long later, when the weevils came thundering back into camp, a frantic Prince at their head, they found the Queen sighing happily, as a group of happy little tonkers grazed upon bushes artfully laid around her pit. To the side, over a blazing campfire, were the Shat and David who, having washed off all that mud, had obviously been too busy cooking to get dressed again afterwards. Roddie felt vaguely ill at the thought.

“Aha!” cried William, seeing his Prince “Just in time for tea!” and with that, from the fire, David pulled a magnificent pie, stuffed with four and twenty tonkers, heads poking artistically through the crust.

“Looks like they rose to the occasion!” he quipped and everyone laughed heartily!

THE END
(Finally)

Oh dear. I feel DRAINED now. And somewhat sullied. The things one does for friendship...