Odorus Urungus
-4-
The hatch to the commander's quarters slid open before Mari's eyes to reveal the opulent interior. Violet drapes tumbled down each corner of the room, framing an authentic mounted object d'art from Earth: Monet, Duhrer, Boticelli, Artemisia Gentileschi… and then there were the other four walls of the polyhydric room.
Mari ambled between the graceful statuary strategically positioned throughout the room. Here, the Three Graces admired each other's charms. There, a Sylph reclined on a couch and boldly exposed her mound. Another sculpture depicted Aphrodite wrestling with a young nymph.
"Wow," Mari gasped, "you sure do know your art!"
"My tastes incline only towards the very best erot – er, romantic themes," Hagino replied.
Mari's ears suddenly picked up on the gentle sound of music floating through the room. The voices of two men – singing in English – twined together in the style of the Everly Brothers. They sang about how words alone could not express love. At least, that's how it sounded to Mari's ears, barely trained in English and its weird inflections.
Hagino laid her hands gently upon Mari's shoulders and leaned toward her ear. "Mari my pet," she purred, "words truly escape me… of how strong my feelings are toward you."
Her defenses softened by the smoldering paintings, the voluptuous sculpture and the soothing intonations of the angelic male voices, Mari couldn't help but collapse into her hostess' arms. "You can try, you know," Mari sighed, "I'm fond of poetry!"
Hagino nuzzled her guest's face softly, "Oh Mari… Mari… my tongue is so very clumsy and poetry is hardly my forte. Come…" The commander of the good ship Blue guided Mari over to her round, spacious, well cushioned bed. The bed was adorned with four alabaster posts that rose, arced and vaulted over the mattress itself into a graceful canopy.
Mari could only marvel at how such a large bed could be placed among the many artifacts without crowding the room, and oh my stars, how sublime that vocal duet sounded. That duo propelled by the simple stroking and thumping of an acoustic guitar. She placed her seat upon the bed, which gave and caressed her simple charms. She gazed into the azure alien eyes of her hostess, which were constant and unblinking and… why the hell doesn't she blink?
Her question was brushed away casually with a stroke of Hagino's fingers against her chin. Hagino leaned in close to Mari and whispered, "Do excuse me while I slip into something more… comfortable."
"Yes," said a mesmerized Mari.
Hagino righted herself, slithered toward the far wall of the room adorned with a painting by Graciella D'Orgasma of a woman arching her back from a bed and reaching out to touch a succubus clothed in peacock feathers. Hagino pressed her finger against the woman's pubis and the wall receded and slid away to reveal a dimly lit room.
Hagino turned over her shoulder and said to Mari, "I'll be a moment," and disappeared into the dim room. The wall with D'Orgasma's painting slid into view and fit back in place.
Mari lay back on the bed, her arms folded behind her head and regarded her reflection in the mirror fixed on the canopy of the bed. This is too good to be true, the young schoolgirl thought, far too good…
