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Of Hearts and Shells: 50 Shades of Green	By : prplraven Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 2973 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: TMNT and all associated characters are property of their original creators. This fic is for entertainment only, and I receive no monies from this publication.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Cav stalked around the roof of the bank, now and then looking over the edge of the building. Rock had perched himself on a water tower on a roof nearby. “Ninja turtles… honestly, who ever heard of such a thing?” Cav muttered to himself. He’d bet himself that he would see them coming, so, intent on seeing their approach, he paced from one side of the roof to another. “I mean, seriously… who teaches martial arts to turtles? …probably not even real ninjas. Those are probably just… like, costumes. Have to be…” He turned around, looking over the edge, and came face to face with Leonardo, crouched on the balustrade. “GAAHH!” He screamed, fur puffing up as he took a swipe at Leo with a clawed hand. Leo executed a flawless backflip on the railing, evading the unintentional attack effortlessly. Cav turned his head slightly and saw the rest of the turtles now on the roof, and their human friend arriving a moment later.
“Dude, Cav, chill… It’s just us, man,” Mikey soothed as Rock let out a mocking seagull laugh.
Cav caught his breath, then licked a paw and slicked back the fur over each ear. “Right… Sorry ‘bout that.”
Leo smirked at him. “Still think they’re just costumes?”
The mutant cat shook his head. “Nope, that’s good enough for me…”   Rock let out another rollicking laugh. Cav turned a scathing glare on him. “And YOU are the worst lookout ever! Get down here!” Rock clapped his beak shut and glided down from the tower, landing on the bank roof. “I figure this’ll be easiest on your human friend, seeing as we tend to stay at the top of the building this time of year.”
Casey shrugged and crouched down to grab onto Rock’s free leg as if riding a giant mutant seagull was no big thing. With all he’d seen recently, nothing could faze him anymore. This was just a weird-ass city these days.
“Now, if you all will follow us… we’re a couple miles in that direction.” Cav pointed diagonally across the city.
“Check,” said Leo. “We’ll be right behind you.”
The gull mutant lit on the top of the towering concrete shell of a high-rise. Most of the windows in the lower half were busted out. It looked like it might fall down at the slightest breeze.
A few moments later, Cav appeared at one of the highest of the broken-out windows, waving the turtles in as they used grappling hooks to zigzag their way up the building. Rock and Casey stood to the side of the room, waiting for the turtles to arrive.
The inside of the building seemed to be in about as good of shape as the outside; paint and wallpaper peeling off the walls, heaps of paper nearly obscured by black mold, rusted metal equipment that pointed to the building’s former medical nature. “Classy place,” Raph commented sarcastically.
Cav raised his whiskers at him, exposing the fang on that side of his face. “It’s not much, but we get along. Come on… Kafka’s been dying to meet you.” He led the group to a stairwell.
“Ah yes, the much-touted Kafka…” Leo said wryly.
“He’s… not the most useful guy… as a mutant or otherwise, but he’s a hoot. And useful or not, we mutants have to stick together. We were lucky enough to run into you… who knows how many other mutants there are out there, in hiding? But if we could get everyone in one pl—“   A fluffy, ringed tail fell down in front of his eyes. “Goddammit, Frito! Get down!”
Frito descended the wall he had been climbing in the stairwell and dropped onto the steps. He grinned at the turtles and fell in step with Raph.
Cav’s ears flattened a bit. “Kid hasn’t stopped climbing the walls since we got back last night. He’s gonna have me climbing the walls before too long if he doesn’t quit it… He keeps going for the elevator shaft. Even I’m not okay with that.”
“Has he figured out ceiling-walking yet?” Raph asked.
“What?!”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll show him how when we’re done here. Sound good, Jamal?” the turtle said, winking to his young protégé. Frito nodded enthusiastically.
Cav glanced back at him and shook his head with a groan. He reached the next floor—third from the top of the building—and exited the stairwell, the others following him out. “Kafka, visitors…”
A large black bulk shifted slightly in the dark. “Ah, yes… well,” came an echoey voice with a very slight British accent to it.. “Perhaps they can wait a moment while I finish my sentence here…”
“He writes in the dark?” Leo asked Cav.
“He writes all the time… light or not, though he can actually see better in the dark.”
“Apologies, I suppose a bit of enlightenment is in order,” Kafka’s voice echoed at them again. The light of an electric lantern flared. “Is that better?” The lantern lit dozens of piles of books and stacks of paper, and a very large black beetle.
Raph screamed, backing into Mikey and drawing his sai. Mike caught him and held him back from attacking. “Raph, easy! Chill! It’s not a cockroach!”
The beetle’s antennae waved slightly as it stared at them. “Can’t say as I blame you… Not only do I see better in the dark, I look better in it.”
“You’ll have to excuse him, he has a roach phobia. I’m—“
“Leonardo, in the blue mask; Michelangelo, in the orange; Donatello in the purple; Raphael, the red; and April, no mask, but red hair; and one human, Something-Jones. I’m afraid I can’t read my own handwriting here…”
“That’d be the one and only Casey Jones, thank you…” Casey corrected.
“Ah, yes… the Mighty Casey.” Kafka picked up his pen and made a correction on a sheet of paper on his desk, which was really a wooden door balanced atop several stacks of books. Thick sheaves of paper lay in piles on top of the door, as well as a tin can full of writing implements, and a photograph in a frame. Casey’s name documented, the beetle turned his attention back to them. “Macavity has told me much about the lot of you. How very interesting, that there should be so many mutant turtles in New York, and practicing ninjitsu, of all things!” He glanced back at his page of notes. “But one of these is not like the others… The first four, all names from the Renaissance, artists… but ‘April’? Definitely a discrepancy there…”
“I’ve only been a turtle for a month,” she explained.
“Ah, another victim of the recent mutagen rain, perhaps, like Jamal?” He continued writing as they spoke.
“Well… no… There was… kind of an accident while we were fighting the Kraang—“
“The what?” The beetle lifted his pen.
“The aliens that brought the mutagen to this dimension in order to transform the planet into one like their own,” Donnie summarized.
Kafka stared, pincers agape. “You’re having me on. Pull one of my other legs, they’ve got bells on…”
“If only!” Mikey put in.   “Those guys are a pain in our shells like, weekly! Them and Shredder…”
Leo took over where Mikey left off. “So far, we’ve managed to stop them from taking over, but they’re definitely leaving a path of destruction in their wake, in the form of mutants and wrecked lives… And, they’re apparently allied with a very powerful enemy of ours, who wants us and our master dead.”
“Damn,” Cav exclaimed, “Foes in high places… I hope I’m not making a mistake bringing you guys into the fold…”
“’The fold?’ What are we, sheep?” Raph scoffed.
Kafka shifted toward him. “You are joining us, are you not?”
“Whoa, what? Hold on…” Leonardo said, taken aback.
The beetle shook his head. “Oh, Cav… you just assumed—“
Cav snapped back at him, “I got them here, didn’t I?!”
“…to your lovely palace, the home of the illustrious Mutant Alliance?” Kafka mocked, a sneer evident in his voice. “Yes, some impressive army we are; an ungeheures Ungeziefer who has trouble moving from room to room, a nine-year old boy, a seagull who’s all but mute, and an old cat lady.”
“An army?!” Leo started, the others showing like expressions of shock and distaste.
The tomcat turned to face him. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just crabby! We’re not much yet, but the ball is just starting to roll… The mutants in this city need somewhere to go, somewhere where they’ll be treated with respect… a place where they can help one another! That’s us… that’s here! The four of us and Nora, we’re just the start. There’s bound to be other mutants hiding in this city… you turtles and the encounters you mentioned last night are proof of that. Getting them all in one place… that’s the hard part, especially when we’re all in hiding.”
“Yeah, getting a bunch of questionably sane mutants together in one place… What could possibly go wrong there?” Raph snarked.
“It is putting a lot of crazy in one basket,” Donnie added. “The mutation process seems to addle people’s brains a little. Or a lot.”
“And yet, there’s mutants like all of us, who are perfectly sane,” Cav argued.
Kafka interjected, “Sanity is a relative term…” and moved across the room to a large stack of his apparently archived work, and pulled loose a particular sheaf of paper. He handed a stack of pages to Leo and Cav. Every sheet was covered in wild chicken-scratch handwriting, written at crazy angles, expressing disturbing sentiments such as “Kill them all kill them all kill them all” and “Revenge! They will all bleed for doing this to me!” One insisted “Publish or perish!” several dozen times.
“This is how I expressed myself until the madness passed, when I first metamorphosed from Paul Allen Richting, professor of literature, to Kafka, the man-sized hulk of a black beetle.” He retrieved the pages from them and shuffled back across the room to the stack of paper he had pulled them from, using all four of his arms to put them in order and place them back in the pile at the correct place. “It took months to channel the insanity out of my system, but it did eventually come under my control.”
“And he’s been sane for years since then,” Cav said triumphantly. “I just kept bringing him food and paper. All they need is time, maybe guidance... and they’ll come out of it.”
“Possibly…” Donatello mulled. He glanced sideways at April for a moment. Hope arose in him; her nymphomania could be temporary! Like Kafka, she could work it out of her system!
Leo took over his thought. “Or possibly not. Cathartic writing may have worked for Kafka, but for every mutant? Some of them probably couldn’t be bothered… especially the ones who don’t think there’s anything wrong with them…”
“Not to mention all the ones we know that are sane enough and just flat-out evil,” Raph added.
Cav thought, chin in one paw. “Hmmm, so it seems we need a no-fly list of sorts. Kafka, ready to take dictation?”
“Of course.” The beetle reached for a clean sheet of paper with and another pen with his lower set of arms while continuing to write with his upper right pincer.
“Who do we start with?” Raph said, getting down to business.
“Shredder’s hench-mutants. Rahzar, a.k.a. Chris Bradford. Zombie-wolf… thing. He was double-mutated. Then FishFace… “
While watching from the back of the huddle as Leo, Raph and Mikey generated lists of every mutant the group knew of, friend or foe, Donnie felt an insistent tap on his shell. He looked down to see the little raccoon mutant beckoning him toward the stairs. “What’s up, Frito?” he asked softly as he followed. April, also curious as to where he was going, came along.
Frito said nothing, but led them up two more stories, to what looked like a living and bedding area for the three mutants; Kafka, it appeared, did not require a bed, either not sleeping at all or sleeping where he was at his desk. The beds appeared to be comprised largely of crumpled newspaper and gull feathers, but were layered with quilts, clearly Nora’s contribution. The raccoon headed for the smallest nest-like bed, in a corner away from the windows. He threw the quilts off and began digging through the rustling mishmash of bedding. After a moment, he pulled a container of mutagen out of the hole, ducked back into it and produced another, then a third. He kicked some of the bedding back into place as he hopped off the bed, holding one of the large cylinders out to Donatello.
“You should have these,” he said. “I don’t think Cav would like me giving them to you, but you can use them to make that retro-medicine, right?”
Donnie nodded, accepting the first two capsules, April taking the third. “Frito, where did you get these?”
“Found them while we were out looking for stuff,” he said nonchalantly. “They’re dangerous… I don’t want what happened to me happening to other people, ‘specially other kids.
“What happened to you when you got mutated?” April asked, sitting on the scrunching edge of what, judging by the sheer size, must have been Rock’s bed. Donnie sat down next to her as Frito flopped onto his own pile.
“My mom sent me to take out the trash. Animals get into it a lot… She told me to make sure the lids were on super-tight, so I was packing them down and saw this clump of hair stuck to one of them. It didn’t look like cat hair… too stiff, like one of these…” He whisked his tail around and pulled one of the brownish-gray hairs loose from it to show the two turtles. “Then one of these fell out of the sky onto the stoop and sprayed all over me when it broke,” he said, pointing to the mutagen. “It hurt a lot, and I screamed, and my mom heard me and she came outside and started screaming too, because she got scared of me, I guess. She was screaming so much, she didn’t listen when I said it was me… she ran back in the house and called the animal cops on me. I ran across the street and hid in the bushes until they went away. And then I ran away, so I wouldn’t scare my family any more.” He paused, ending his story. “You wanna see a picture of me as a human?” he asked brightly.
“Sure,” April said with a warm smile. Frito turned over on his stomach and dug under the side of his bed, tugging out a flat sheet of paper and handing it to her. She held it so that Donnie could see it as well. MISSING CHILD ALERT, it read across the top. Beneath the headline was a picture of a bald-shaved dark-skinned boy smiling for a school picture. Jamal Evan Everett, age 9, Missing since October 8, 2013. Don and April exchanged a concerned look. April handed the flyer back to Frito. “You’re a cute kid, Jamal.”
Donnie nodded in agreement. “We’ll try to get you back to normal as soon as possible. We need to pick up more mutagen in order to make it, but then we might have enough in the batch for all of you.”
Frito bobbed his head, wearing a solemn expression. “I miss my mom and dad, and my big brother. I miss my mom’s cooking, even the carrots. And I miss going to school. Even the homework. I hate carrots, and I hate homework, but I’d eat a billion carrots and do homework forever if I could just go home again.”
A melancholic pause filled the air for a moment, then April opened her arms toward the raccoon mutant. “Come here…” Frito took two steps and then fell into April’s arms with a sniffle. “It’ll be all right… we’re going to fix you.”
“As soon as we can. I promise. As soon as April’s cure is done, you’re top priority,” Donnie affirmed.
Jamal looked up from April’s arms, the fur around his eyes wet. “What’s that mean?”
“It means you’re next in line, and really important. Keep looking for mutagen capsules… the ones we’ve found have all been in this area…” He showed Frito the map of the mutagen distribution on his T-phone. “If they’re broken, don’t touch them, but remember where they are, so I can come clean them up, okay? I’ll come by every couple weeks to see if you’ve found anything.”
Frito nodded.
“And we should probably not mention this to Cav or the others until later,” April added.
“Why’s that?” Donnie asked.
“Cav… I’ve got a weird vibe from him. He passed the mutant army thing off as a joke, but I think he may be serious about it. If he knows we’re making something that’ll turn all his soldiers human again, he might take them all and bolt, and then we’ll never get Frito back to normal, Rock and Kafka aside.”
“Good point. Super-secret project, right, Jamal?”
Jamal crossed his heart, then made the motion of locking it and swallowing the key.
Donnie motioned to the stairwell, and the three of them descended to join the rest of the group.
Cav, Kafka, and the other three turtles were going over their lists again, appending a critical detail here and there. Casey was hanging out with Rock by the window. Rock was tapping a cadence against the glass with his beak, and Casey was doing his best to repeat it.
“This guy’s got some sweet beats, you guys! Check it out… Take it away, Rock!”
Rock tilted his head as if slightly annoyed, but complied and tapped on the glass. Tik-tik-tik, tak tak tak, tik-tik-tik.
Cav seemed nonplussed. “He does that from time to time, no idea why.”
“Not bad, right? That’s the simple bit… You should see him when he really gets going.” Rock repeated the same sequence again. Something clicked in Donnie’s head, and it wasn’t the tapping on the glass.
“That’s not just beats at random… that’s Morse Code for SOS!”
Rock let out a raucous gull scream, flaring his giant wings open. “RAWK! RAWK! RAWK!”
“Don’t you knock my manuscripts over, you great winged rat!” Kafka warned. “You do, you’re putting them all back in order!” Rock ducked his head meekly and pulled his winged hands back to his sides. “I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection myself, not that it would have done me any good, not knowing anything more than SOS myself…” Kafka mourned. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. “Ready to transcribe, Rock.”
The seagull began pecking at the glass once again, at speed, the beetle recording the beats as dots and dashes. Donatello did a quick search on his phone and began translating. “Capt Enrique Salvo, ferry boat, Angelica Lee. No family to contact. Victim mutagen rain. Pls no more catfood.”
“Oh… uh... I guess I’ve been a little heavy-handed with the seafood paté… Sorry, Rock. Er, Enrique.”
“Rock is fine,” the gull tapped out briefly. “Good to talk.”
Kafka copied out the code key from Donnie’s phone. “Thank you for that,” he said. “He’s been cut off from the world for months. I know he appreciates it.”
He did indeed; the big gull swept Donatello up into a crushing bear hug. Donnie was glad for his shell, as even that seemed to creak under the pressure Rock was putting on it. “You’re welcome…” he said, hoping to be released if he did.
Cav laughed, then was suddenly distracted by Frito’s tail falling in front of him as he walked across the ceiling, climbing claws clutched in his toes. “Jesus Christ, Frito, the ceiling?! Really?! Get down before you fall down!” Raph snickered at them triumphantly.
“Well, I imagine Rock would probably like to get caught up with you, so we’ll get out of your hair. Guys…” Leo signaled.
The group convened around the stairs, descending to the broken-out windows. Cav escorted them down.
“Perhaps one day, we’ll get to see your home, hm?” he suggested, swishing his tail.
Leo rolled his eyes at this slightly. “I’m afraid that’s really unlikely.”
“Why?” Cav pressed, expectant. “We showed you our base.”
“Well, for one thing, Master Splinter is a rat… he’s not thrilled at the idea of having a cat around, mutant or otherwise. And for another, ninjas don’t just give away their lair. It’s a threat to our security.”
“Ah,” Cav said, though he sounded downhearted about it, “I can understand that, I guess… It’s a pity; I’d rather you join up with us, of course…”
“Right,” Raphael sneered, “so we can join this supposed army of yours?”
“It’s not an army, I said!” the cat snapped back at him. “I want it to be a… support network for mutants. Until we amass a big enough group to make an impression on the humans that mutants have the same basic rights.” He whirled on April and Donnie suddenly, pointing a sharp claw at them. “And I can’t do that if you two plan on reverting all of my people. And I, for one, don’t want to go back to being an old alley cat.” They looked at each other, stunned. “Oh yes, I heard you upstairs. Ears like this hear a lot. I know what you’re doing with that mutagen… and I’ll tell you this: you come in here with any of that retro-mutagen, and you’re gonna have a fight on your hands,” he said, extending and splaying the claws on one hand and showing them prominently.
April glowered at him. “You’d keep them all mutants, even if they had a chance to go home? Even Jamal? He’s just a little kid! He needs to go back to his family!”
“And they’re my family! I need him, I need them all. He’s just as well off with me! I can care for him!”
“You just about let him fall to his death last night!” Raph reminded him sharply. “That’s not how you treat family.”
“That was just… tough love,” Cav tried to defend himself.
“…otherwise known as child neglect,” Casey added harshly. “You act like you care about Frito and Rock and Kafka, but you have your own personal motivations at hand, don’t you, Cav?”
“He’s scared,” April stated, sensing Cav’s feelings.
“Good! He should be!” said Raph, smacking a fist into his hand.
“No… he’s afraid of being alone,” April explained. “I think I understand… if we revert everyone except him, he’ll be the only one left.”
Cav wrinkled a lip at her. “How—“ he started, trailing off. “Nevermind, it’s not important. You wouldn’t revert me, then?”
“Dude, if we reverted you just because you were an animal to start with, we’d have to revert ourselves or we’d just be the biggest hypocrites,” Mikey assured him.
“We haven’t come across very many mutants that were animals to begin with,” Leo said, “but taking away their sentience just because this isn’t their natural state seems like… a violation of basic rights.”
“You’d still be taking everyone from me…”
“Cav,” said Donnie, sympathetically, “they’ve got to have the option to leave, or you’re just keeping them prisoner. If you’re truly a friend to them, they may stay, or go and come back, or help your cause, if you ask. But Frito’s still too young for all this. He shouldn’t have his childhood taken from him, especially if we can get him back to normal. It’ll still be months before I can make the retro-mutagen for him, even if I had enough mutagen now…”
Leo chipped in as well. “Come on, Cav… You’re right, we’re all mutants, we shouldn’t be working at cross-purposes. And your ideas for the Mutant Alliance aren’t bad… mutants need somewhere to go, they need guidance, food, a place to stay, and friends. You’ve managed that for you four, and you take care of Ms. Nora. If you can provide that without obligation for them to stay, we’ll back you. We’ll send you any relatively sane mutants we come across.”
“And you’ll keep your retro-mutagen away otherwise?” Cav asked cautiously, retracting his claws.
“We’ll save it for the most extreme circumstances,” Donnie vowed. “As it is, there’s getting to be so many mutants in the city, I’d have to raise a kraathatrogon just to produce the mutagen to make enough retro-mutagen for them all…”
“I’m telling you, Donnie… you’ll spare people a lot of confusion if you just call ‘em space worms…” Casey insisted.
The cat mutant held up a paw at him. “I’m just gonna put a mental block on all the alien shit for now… But it seems… we have an arrangement?”
Leonardo grasped the hand Cav offered. “The Turtles will back the Mutant Alliance.”
“The Mutant Alliance backs the Turtles. Any mutagen we find, it’s yours. Call on us if you need us, we’ll be there. But how do we contact you?”
“Well, we’ll be checking in on you in a couple of weeks,” Donnie reiterated, in case Cav hadn’t caught that part of their conversation with Frito. “With you guys being effectively off the grid, keeping a charge on a phone might be hard… I’ll have to come up with something for you.”
April snapped her fingers. “Nora has some long strips of fabric… There’s a storm drain on Pell Street, off Bowery, across from an old closed video rental place…”
“The pizza pick-up place?” Mikey interrupted.
April nodded. “The guys go past there several times a day. So if you tie a strip of fabric to the grate, we’re bound to see it. Red for an emergency, any other color otherwise.”
“Nice, April!” Leo said approvingly.
Cav’s brow furrowed. “But how can you see that, unless you’re down in… Oh. Man. And I thought this place was a dump…”
“Eh, it’s not so bad. You lose your sense of smell after a while,” Raph observed.
“And on that lovely note, we’ll be going. So long, Cav,” Leo announced, the turtles and Casey rappelling down the broken-down building.
As the group bounded over the rooftops and Casey turned off, heading for his apartment, April suddenly stopped, feeling watched. She concentrated for a moment to pinpoint the source. “Leo, Karai’s waiting for you,” she called. Leonardo stopped in his tracks on the next rooftop over, then reversed his course.
April pointed toward a billboard, then seemed to change her mind and pointed to a fire escape, then a water tower. “Well, in any case, she’s inbound. I’ll leave you to her.” She ran for the roof’s edge and leapt off, catching up with Donnie, who was waiting for her.
Leo swept one of his katanas from his back, blocking the strike from Karai’s falchion that he knew was coming without looking. He watched Don and April clasp hands as they jumped to the next building together.
“I hate it when sshhe tracksss me like thhhat… it’sss creepy,” Karai complained. “Come on, Leo… You’re not evvven trying to make thhisss fffun anymore…”
“Hm? Oh… sorry.” He attacked furiously with his katanas, though his mind was still elsewhere.
“Getting jealousss?” Karai asked, following his line of sight to the now tiny figures moving across the roofs, though it was more tender than her usual mocking tone of voice.
“Getting worried,” he replied, parrying her next swing. “Like the dam’s going to break soon.”
“Thhhunder befffore thhe sstorm…” she agreed, lowering her weapon. “You don’t thhhink your brothher can handle her muchh longer?”
Leo shook his head. “I don’t know.. Sometimes I can’t tell who’s controlling who. All I can do is hope Donnie finishes her cure soon.” He sighed and turned his gaze to her. “And I was hoping he’d work on a retro-mutagen for you next, but I’m afraid you’ve been bumped down the list… there’s a little boy we need to get home first.”
She let out a low hiss. Leonardo couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of disappointment or annoyance, though it was possibly both. “You alwaysss thhhink withh your heart, Leo,” she said accusingly, but her voice was warm, and her tail began coiling around his legs.
“You know this is never going to work out…” he discouraged.
She nuzzled his beak. “I know… but I’ll take what I can get,” she said, wrapping him further in her coils. She flicked her forked tongue against the side of his head.
He winced, giggling. “C’mon, stop… that tickles!”
“Well, what’re you gonna do to ssstop me?”
Leo smirked at her but said nothing, pulling his hands loose of her grip. He set one against her back and slid the other up to the back of her head, drawing her in. She folded her viper-headed arms over his neck.
The meeting of her snout and his beak wasn’t ideal, but they managed to close around each other enough to make it work. That forked tongue slipped into his mouth, toying with his own as they sucked against each other.
Karai tightened herself around Leo’s legs. His eyes popped open as she pulled him off balance and they fell. He landed on his shell with a grunt, with her atop him. He knew very well she wasn’t going to apologize for that, so he didn’t wait for her to. He stroked her neck and shoulders. Her serpentine body writhed around him. He moved a hand down the length of her. She gasped as he traced her soft underbelly with his fingers.
“Found a sweet spot?” he asked wryly.
“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, then let out a soft moan as he began rubbing the area. She raked the fangs of one of her serpent-head hands down his shell, leaving tiny scratches behind, then moved them up to trace the inside of his carapace. Their fangs scratched lightly across the skin where his spine fused with his shell, and his breath caught in his throat. “Thhat’ssss new…” Karai observed as he gulped for air as the pleasure passed.
”What…” Leo breathed, ”… was that?”
“Doeszz it do thhat on thhe othhher ssside too?” she wondered, giving it an experimental prod. Leo shuddered at the ecstasy that coursed through him. His manhood poked insistently out from his shell, between Karai’s coils. She blinked at it for a moment, as did he, a bit abashed, then she gave him a shocked look. “I thhink I sssprung a trap…”
“Careful,” he said in response, smirking. “It might go off…” She choked off a laugh, though he could still feel her giggling against him.
“I sssuppossze it’sss up to me to defffussse it thhen…” She moved her tail so that two lengths of it moved against his cock in opposite directions as she constricted him. Her scales were cool and smooth, nearly feeling liquid as they flowed against his bulging shaft like strings of pearls. She looped the tapering bit of her tail around his hardness again, adding another layer of pleasure for him.
He groaned and stroked her stomach plating again, causing her to gasp and constrict slightly. He winced. “Careful! Easy…”
“Uhh… whoopsss,” she hissed, semi-apologetically, uncoiling herself from him almost entirely. “Let me make it up to you…” She shifted to face his lower torso.
“Karai, you don’t have to—“ he started, but she plunged the head of his dick into her mouth, careful not to graze him with her fangs. “—Oh, god…” he moaned, protest giving way to pleasure as she flicked her tongue against the tip of his hard monstrosity. It tickled in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head. Then she added her snakelike hands, twisting them around him and working them up and down his shaft as she sucked on him. She moved them off-time from each other, pleasuring him three ways at once. He strained, nearly ready to release his load into her, and then—
“Ssssee you later, Leo…” She pulled away from him, smiling roguishly.
He looked up, befuddled. “Wha—Karai?!” he complained, unsatisfied. A flash of smoke, and she was gone. He was used to her being cruel, but now? Now?! He sat up, grumbling, and resumed stroking himself where she’d left off, fantasizing about pinning the bitch down and making her finish the job, until he brought himself off. He spurted his load across the roof of the building with a relieved sigh, waited for his penis to retract, and left for home.
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Of Hearts and Shells: 50 Shades of Green