Carbon Pink: The Stakeout (Patreon)

I know I’ve been doing a lot of https://twitter.com/Rapscallion_Art ‘s Carbon Pink lately, but it’s weird and fun. And I set up a party in one of the first stories, so I always feel obliged to at least introduce everyone when I do that. Of course, I still have more ideas in mind… and Raps introduced a wrestling-based character so I’ve gotta look into that, as I hint later on…

Caramel didn’t have any particular inspiration, but I wanted her to be out of place. Not just because she’s a nayaling (think scifi tieflings) and born outside the megacities, but it was just fun having her be a cold and stiff lady in this setting full of porno sex plot characters. She’s STILL horny and all, but she’s not so expressive about it. And the idea of a lady wearing a poncho and nothing underneath it but a thong and gunbelts is just a really neat idea. I assume the ammo and rifle slings crisscross on her tits, but I don’t really get into it. The personality did make writing the steps of the story a little tough, but I like how she came out.

Somebody did point out from the preview that Caramel might read as autistic while I wrote her as just a hardass. I agreed that it's possible, but I don't ever write someone to be that way on purpose. I just don't know enough about the conditions to write them genuinely, so I've probably written people with all kinds of mental conditions and not realized it.

Rick had barely ever left Cardinal Holdings’ megacity. The towering testament to wealth and power was far from the only one in The New World, and there were all manner of mag-trains, lev-planes, and other hyphenated methods to get from one to another if you were so inclined.

Of course, traveling with that much speed, safety and comfort was reserved for those who could afford it. Rick had been riding a hovercycle for a few hours while Caramel rode on a bulky riding lizard that somehow managed to keep pace with his machine.

When the corps settled into the area, they mainly focused on their respective cities. The rest of the world, they didn’t care so long as it didn’t come bothering them. That left the rest of the New World effectively one big desert island with emphasis on the desert. People could certainly live out there and be free from all the noise and lights of the city. It was just infinitely tougher in other ways. The oppression and corporate lifestyle would be replaced by much more literal monsters in the forms of bandits and roaming kaiju. Sometimes Rick would dream about leaving the crushing cityscape, but he felt like he’d miss the modern comforts.

He was absolutely right. The cycle was easy enough to pick up on but the heat outside the city limits was awful. He could feel the oppressive heat on him like a layer of weighted clothes whenever he wasn’t racing at full speed, the wind able to keep the air moving around him. When they came to a stop by a tall rocky outcropping, it hit him again. His pale undercityslicker skin was already tingling and turning pink in the unfiltered and shadeless sunlight.

“Let’s do this already,” Caramel said in the same low, smokey voice she’d used every one of the few times she’d talked to him.

Caramel was a nayaling; one of the demonic-looking metahumans that had been around since the settlement of the New World. While their appearance made some people uncomfortable, there was little that set them apart from a full-blooded human beyond being more capable at surviving and navigating the dangerous world they were set upon.

Caramel herself had all the telltale traits of her kind; long legs, split hooves, a smooth prehensile tail, and a pair of sharp, forward-swept horns. She was thickly built around her hips and chest while the rest of her was lean and limber, even towering over Rick at seven feet tall. Her skin was a deep, rich series of golden browns like her name suggested, or perhaps some exotic type of wood. Long and sky blue hair trailed after her like a second tail while strands dangled in front of her stern, narrow face. She wore a lightweight poncho and a wide-brimmed straw hat to match their environment, but beneath that was next to nothing. As her hooves, hands and tail clung to the rocks and walked up it as easily as a mountain goat, he could see only a thong, a rifle, and a pair of revolvers strapped to her bare skin.

Rick admired the view up her poncho before deciding he didn’t want to put the work off any longer. He squeezed his handheld device, extending the climbing claws he’d gotten so attached to on his first job. They had all kinds of practical uses on top of just stabbing the hell out of somebody who got too close.

Rick was a musclebound beast, but climbing raw rock in the desert with a pack strapped to his back was something else. He was caked in sweat by the time he reached the top of their perch, huffing for air as he grabbed for his canteen.

Caramel was already laid out in her spot. She was flat on her belly, her tail curled to the side to remain as low as the tall and horned woman would get. She had her rifle out and steadied on a small rock as she watched the wide open sands through her scope. Apart from her round brown booty aimed right at him, she did seem like she’d be invisible to anyone looking her way from a distance.

“Guess you’ve done this a lot,” Rick panted when he was done chugging water.

“Mm,” she replied stiffly without looking up.

He took out a large assault rifle of his own. Fyx had all sorts of connections and stowed away funds, and he had enjoyed practicing with the assorted firearms by plugging into the simulated shooting range. It was big, heavy and awkward without a proper grip, so Rick could see why some people compared it to having a dick. Short of the people with actual guns installed in their junk…

They were to stake out the spot and eliminate their next target. An exec had put out a bounty on a psycho that had been taking joyrides, cruising out to the wasteland long enough to shoot enough cattle and civilians from his speeder to get his rocks off. They were unhappy with the representation it had for their brand, which was twisted as it was, it was good money for a good deed. It should be easy work for them with Caramel on point and Rick there as backup in case he ended up bolting or if things got physical.

“So is that a las rifle or an old fashioned?” Rick pried after a bout of silence.

“Lead,” Caramel answered simply.

It was starting to look like a quiet stakeout.

“Don’t those things tend to jam up?”

“That’s an easy fix,” she assured him dryly. “If you're fast enough and sharp enough, it doesn’t make much of a difference. With a little maintenance, there’s a lot less that can go wrong with a laser, and you don’t have to worry about the heat cauterizing their wounds for a false flag.”

That got her talking, at least. Caramel tapped a sharp-nailed finger on her long rifle.

“Besides, my family was always the touchy feely type. A little physical touch can go a long way.”

“Especially at high velocity without much wind resistance, huh?” Rick joked.

Caramel sniffed sharply and her tail swept in a loose wag. It might have been considered a full on laugh, coming from the grim sniper. Either way the tail curled upward, tilting enough that her poncho lifted up over her hips and flashed more of her ass and lower back. Rick once again got an eyeful, noticing a purplish colored pattern just above one ass cheek. It was somewhere between a cow print pattern of a birthmark or a handprint that lingered far too long.

Rick left the conversation open for her to pick up. He let the minutes tick down until he cracked again. Even as hired muscle, he was used to the noise and grinding bodies of his old club.

“So Caramel, huh?” Rick pried.

Caramel’s tail flicked around, closer to that of a bored fennec.

“I was with a naya girl for a while named Taste O’Ash. Of course I also slept with a dude named Baxter so… are the names just a thing for your kind that I don’t know about?”

He braced himself in case his desperation for conversation pushed any buttons.

“Basically. Traditional nayalings are often named after sensations or colors. My full name is Caramel Heat of the Melting Candle. Most only bother with Caramel Candle.”

“Huh. Does that get annoying?”

The nayaling shrugged.

Rick let out a long breath. He was already thinking of pulling up some music to pass the time otherwise spent scanning the vast sandscape.

“So were you gonna fuck me already, or what?” Caramel asked, a tone of expectant annoyance to her voice.

That answered that question.

“Oh hell yea. I didn’t want to assume,” he admitted.

He still started yanking off his pants, quickly appreciating the open air in his legs and junk.

“Why not?” the prone Caramel asked calmly.

“You’ve been sitting there, four times higher than me this whole time. At least you’d be lower to the ground if you plowed my ass.”

As Rick approached, her tail lashed out like it had a mind of its own. It wrapped around his shaft and squeezed tightly around his dick with the strength of a tentacle. It flexed from tip to base, creating a milking sensation pulsing through his cock. The burly human groaned and leaned into her, letting his hung dick slap against Caramel’s perky ass. The demonic-looking sniper purred softly as she bent her knees. It raised her hips and tail enticingly with her usual lack of words.

Rick laid across her back, getting as low as possible like she’d wanted. He pulled at her thong until the tiny garment snapped away, getting another small shudder from Caramel. It was clear she wasn’t the most vocal partner, so he took what scarce responses he could get as signs of her arousal.

He pulled at her and slid his cock beneath her raised hips, easing his way into her pussy. She emitted a barely audible groan. Her pussy wasn’t the snuggest thing he’d been inside, but surprisingly tight for such a tall woman. He could feel her clench around him, hugging his cock as it squeezed into her. As steady as she was in maintaining her sights, he could see Caramel’s shoulders rise and fall as she breathed heavier.

“Liking that more than you say, huh?” Rick purred, pressing a bit deeper into her and holding it there.

His cockhead pulsed against her clit and one of her cloven hooves pressed into the rocky ground beneath them with an audible clopping sound. He lingered there before her tail reached behind him and whipped his pale toned ass. Rick gasped and his hips jerked instinctively like a spurred on beast.

“Y’talk too much. Y’know that?” she grumbled.

Rick smiled and shook his head but went on banging the hooved gunslinger. He ran his hands up her curvy bottom, gripping her tail’s base and using it to pump deeper inside her. It might have been the raw sunlight on their skin contributing to his rapidly building sweat, but he remembered nayaling pussy running a little warmer than human. It felt like it made everything a little more sensitive, and it may have been the same for her considering how her hips started to bump up and down, contributing to his humping with her own. Her tail wrapped tightly around his wrist, keeping one groping her ass while the other went up to grip her horn. Pulling her lengthy body by both of her love handles kept pulling himself deep inside her despite the snug fit.

The mostly silent Caramel let out a husky groan as he plowed all the way inside her. His balls clapped against the back of her thighs, slapping in time to her soft but heavy breaths. Her fit body pulsed along with it while trying to remain steady. It made Rick feel like he was balls deep inside a predatory cat waiting to strike.

The tensed up body suddenly arched away from her rifle, giving a soft and smokey cry. Her ass slammed aggressively into his abs, clapping sharply each time as she squirted over his cock. His hefty shaft was big enough to reach most of her sweet spots all at once, so enough of his rock-hard plowing her into the sand got her squirting over his shaft. She let out a final shiver before she slumped back into the sand, her tits spilling out on either side of her beneath her poncho.

“Goddamn… you could clear out my sinuses with that high calibur hog,” Caramel sighed.

She blinked sharply and shook her head, wiggling her ass cutely against Rick’s lap.

“I’d be happy to finish you off, big fellah… but our cockblockin’ friend is right on time.”

Rick looked up in surprise and pulled out of Caramel, letting her do her thing. There was a black speeder with a mounted gun, just as described, so he grabbed a scanner and ran the numbers. They were scrubbed from public records beyond the obvious make, but it still had a unique “lack of signal” that Tex had pinpointed from previous occurances.

“Numbers match. That looks like our culprit. I’ll get my shit in case you need backup. Need to clean up or anything?”

The tall nayaling scoffed and spit off the ledge of their perch.

“Don’t you worry. Back on my old settlement, I was on perimeter patrols just like this since I could crawl into a sniper post. And I was making shots like this to make sure the sun lizards weren’t picked off by predators that were half our psycho’s size. I ain’t missing. Besides, I shoot better after I’ve cum.”

“No shit,” Rick chuckled curiously.

Caramel’s narrow red eyes shifted towards the open desert. She shifted up to one of her knees, putting her face level with Rick’s junk again. The black hover-speeder listed in the reports was cruising across the sand. Caramel locked onto it and kept her gun level with it. She tilted her head to raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’ll prove it.”

She extended her thumb and tipped up her hat. The nayaling steadied herself so that her rifle was not only aimed ahead of her but Rick’s shaft ran straight across her face. Caramel opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the side of his cum-soaked shaft. Her lips pursed and rubbed along the firm flesh, sliding her tongue underneath it. Her tongue wrapped around Rick’s dick, sliding out and curling into a full circle around his cock… and then a second, unspooling longer and longer than he’d predicted. She kept her aim steady the whole time.

“Holy shit… you’re fuckin’ good at this…” Rick groaned. He rested a hand on her horn to steady himself while she sucked him off, but she gave a sharp jerk of her head. She shoved his hand away and gave it a light jab with the tip of her horn.

“I’m damn good at sucking and shooting, but let’s not push it now,” she muttered, curling her tongue back up and muttering her lips over his shaft.

Her tongue rolled out and slithered between his nuts and cock. It teased them both perfectly, and just as he was about to burst she pulled her trigger. The gun rocked against her shoulder, making her mouth pop off and her tongue pull with a sudden jerk. Rick groaned and nutted across her lap as he heard the speeder’s engines falter. When he looked up, it was drifting strongly to one side before it tipped over and dumped out a listless body.

“Check ‘em, spunky,” Caramel said dismissively, nodding her head at him to jab at his abs with her horn.

Rick took out his long-range scanner, getting a few scans of the speeder ID code and the target’s vitals. The buyer wanted evidence it was taken care of, and with how much you could modify a human body these days, it was generally the best way to be sure. He sent the data back to HQ, but hesitated as he studied the snapshot he’d grabbed.

“Hey, doesn’t he look kinda familiar?” Rick muttered.

He pulled up a holographic browser. The connection wasn’t good as he was used to back in the megacity, but it was enough to get a basic search going.

“Here we go. This guy’s related to the head of advertising of Phelatitan.”

“Those shitheads?” Naya scoffed. “So we fulfilled a contract and took out a rich psycho all in one. Not bad for a day’s work.”

Rick got a ping as he checked his messages.

“And Fyx is already leaking the evidence into the dark web about the latest corpo bullshit. Nothing that’ll take them down, of course, but it’s still a quick hit to their nuts.”

“Yea, well Fyx seems the type that’d be into that,” Caramel sighed.

She had already instively reloaded her rifle from the ammo stashed in her bandolier and rose to her impressive height. She punched Rick in the shoulder, something that might have been overly physical for anyone else. A bouncer like Rick was more than used to that kind of rough skinship. Even after their sudden and sweaty sex, and even with the unusual burning sensation that her knuckles left behind.

“Now let’s getcha back to your shady little shelter so they can zap that sunburn back outta ya.”

“Ah, god dammit,” he groaned.

He held out his arms and took his first real look at himself. His pale, buff, naked body was lobster red all over from the unfiltered desert sun. His expression was apparently enough to bring a genuine laugh out of the grim sniper.

“I swear, you cityboys are always good for a laugh or a quick dickin’. Glad to see you’re good for both.”

---

The two returned to their headquarters and Rick winced as he peeled his gear off his sunburnt body to return for later missions. The climbing claws were practically his, but stuff like his hovercycle and assault rifle weren’t things he could easily leave around the undercity without being suspicious or getting robbed.

Rendale Fix emerged from her office, giving them a quick congratulations and sending out some quick messages. Rick saw an alert pop up on his messaging program, happy to see it load up quickly with the city wifi.

“That’s a travel ticket,” he noted as he opened up and scanned it.

“I’m aware. I sent it,” his ELF leader confirmed with a nod.

“I think he meant to ask why, queenie,” Caramel said dryly.

Ren ignored anything about the queenie nickname. She always seemed collected and professional, but maybe she was just especially aware that Caramel wasn’t the type to bother with formalities.

“It’s because we’ve been given a golden opportunity. I’ve managed to arrange access to some serious hardware over at S and J.”

Rick nodded at the common abbreviation. Slyth and Jabber was a small but very influential corp off to the southern end of New World. They were settled into territory that was riddled with monsters and mutants, which had led to them effectively becoming guardians to the rest of The New World and home of countless resident badasses. The proudly stated story was that their current CEO had earned his position by defeating the former in a hardcore wrestling match and regularly suplexed some of the larger mutants that came to close to him.

“I’ll need everyone along on this mission,” Ren went on.

“I’ll get into the details later, but this weekend, we’re all catching a mag-train down to J&S because I’m going to need as many hands as we can get to grab tech and weapons as fast as we can.”

She pointed at Rick in particular.

“Except for you, Boldstein. The mission is going to depend heavily on your performance.”

“Performance?” Rick asked quizzically.

“One way or another, yes. They agreed to give us access in exchange for filling in for them. One of their prizefighters mysteriously melted before he could challenge the CEO’s daughter.”

“The… wait. Wait, you want me to fight the fuckin’ strongest man in the world’s DAUGHTER?”

Rendale pulled up a projection of a woman with skin like milky coffee, thick lips, and a black braid going down to her absolutely titanically thick ass.

“Yes. You’ll be wrestling as a ringer for Carolina Fiesta. As payment, we have access to the goods for exactly as long as you can survive with her in the ring.”

Rick frowned as he looked over the woman. He felt like he’d seen some clips of her in some vague wrestling clips online, but it was hard to tell. It was tough to remember her face when she had a booty like that.

“So work fast, is what I’m hearing,” Caramel pointed out.

“Work VERY fast,” Ren agreed, pointing at the nayaling in confirmation.

“So everyone pack your things for this weekend. We’ve got a schedule to keep, and Rick, you have a date with the ring.”