An Eldar's Ears

The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

"I as an inquisitor trust you will handle this knowledge responsibly."

A bit of writefaggotry created by a swell Anon about a Commissar pleasuring a female Eldar captive. We would call this heresy, but truly now, what's the point?

Xenology's dissection of an Eldar contains notes regarding the morphology of the specimen, including one most peculiar mention of their pointy ears being "packed with nerve-endings," making them quite sensitive; the dissector, one truly crazy Magos Biologis, added the suggestion "(Speculation: Erogenous?)" to the end of the notation, spawning the original thread. Considering Xenology's age at this point, it's amazing this didn't happen sooner. The story itself borders on hot human-on-xenos sex, with brief details on much more titillating aspects of Eldar physiology, but never really goes all the way. Still makes for a pleasing read.

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‘I will watch over you, witch,’ Kallrick forced confidence he didn’t feel into his voice – another gift of political officer training, and one that had sent many men to their deaths in the past. ‘Your transport arrives within the hour.’

‘Perhaps so. But it is not my destiny to be collared by the mon-keigh for long. The river of my Fate will flow into a new stream.’ She seemed irritated, as if he was at fault for missing the significance of her twisting words.

As she spoke, one of her long, pointed ears twitched slightly. Kallrick narrowed his eyes. When her left ear twitched again, she blinked and wrinkled her nose as if uncomfortable. She noticed his scrutiny and lowered her amber eyes with a smile.

‘My ear itches.’

Kallrick breathed slowly, hoping the witch couldn’t sense his heart beating faster. He could just reach out to her, scratch the itch, ease her twitching ear. His hand froze halfway to her face. What was he doing? Touching the prisoner? Did he even care about some petty discomfort she might feel?

Her gaze met his. The inhumanity of her honey-gold eyes both enraptured and repelled him. He could read some emotion there: her shyness at admitting to the itch; her curiosity as his hand neared her face. But so much remained unreadable. Her expression was almost human, but the daemon, as they say, is in the details. That one vital detail.

Almost. She was ‘almost’ human.

‘You look at me as though I were a beast waiting to devour your hand,’ she said softly.

Her eyes never left his. Her angelic face was still formed into a delicate expression mixing both coyness and…something more eager. Did she want him to touch her? Kallrick drew his bolt pistol with his other hand, keeping it clutched in his fist. ‘If I do lose my hand to you, witch, it will be the last mistake you ever make.’

She didn’t answer immediately. Her nose wrinkled for a moment as her left ear twitched again.

‘Your prize is collared and bound, mon-keigh. Your threats to me are meaningless.’

The commissar cast a final glance at his pistol to be sure it was ready to fire if needed. Then, with his cheeks burning, his eyes flicked to the closed door. Above the arch, the red bulb glared dimly. Still locked.

So he scratched her ear for her.

The whisper of leather gloves on naked skin was barely perceptible. Fingers sheathed in rough leather stroked from the base of her ear to the pointed tip. Kallrick swallowed as his fingertips slid along her pale flesh, teeth clenched as her ear twitched under his touch. He heard her let out a shivering breath, and their eyes met again.

‘That does not help,’ she said in her alien accent. ‘That only… I do not know the word.’ She stared into his eyes, licking her blood-red lips to moisten them. ‘Liasha, in my tongue. The touch to make laughter.’

‘It…tickles?’ Kallrick swallowed, feeling his skin crawl at her use of a xeno-language. Yet he didn’t pull his hand away.

‘Yes,’ she smiled like a little girl given a new toy to play with, and rolled the word around her mouth a few times as if to taste it. ‘Tickles. It tickles. Yes.’

Kallrick stroked her ear again, this time more firmly between his thumb and fingers. She exhaled another soft, shuddering breath, and bit her bottom lip.

‘Better?’ he asked. Her answer was a breathy ‘Mmhmm’ and nothing more. The commissar stroked the tip of her ear, noticing she’d now closed her eyes.

‘Cease now,’ she said after the third stroke. ‘Please.’

Kallrick clutched his pistol tighter. ‘Why?’

He didn’t obey her. He stroked her ear once more. To insult her? To show her who gave the orders? Just to keep touching her, even through his sense-stealing gloves? Throne, what would her skin feel like on his fingertips if he touched her ungloved…

‘My ears are…’ she trailed off, shivering at the touch. ‘They are very… I do not know the word.’

Kallrick smirked a little, gently pinching the tip of her ear and rewarded by a soft ‘Oh…’ and a stream of whispered xeno-words that sounded suspiciously like curses. Her eyes were still closed. Kallrick looked down her face to her rising and falling breasts.

Now her bodysuit showed twin nipple bumps capping her large breasts, jutting proudly from the silky alien material. The commissar took a deep breath, watching them poke out more noticeably as he touched her.

Almost human, he thought again. The notion was maddening. Just look at her. Almost human…

‘Sensitive,’ he finally said. ‘Your ears are sensitive.’

‘Y-’

She got no further. Kallrick heard a sudden sound and he shot to his feet, pistol aimed down at the witch for several heartbeats before he realised the noise was his vox-bead chiming.

‘This is Kallrick,’ he said, once his breath was back. He listened to the other speaker, and nodded curtly. ‘Understood.’ The link was closed.

Their eyes met again in the near-darkness.

‘Your ride is about to land, witch,’ he said. ‘Your escort to headquarters will be here in five minutes.’

Kallrick hit the door release and stalked from the tank, hating how hard those words had been to say, and hating himself for looking back at her as she sat in the APC. She was staring after him silently.

It took several seconds for the commissar to break eye contact, and several more to commit to walking away.

He had an escort to meet.