Little Bat Long Way From Home

Hello. My name is [].
What, didn't you hear me? Seems you don't understand ultrasound. Ah well, by the Goddess of Copyright Infringement, just bloody call me Vampirella like all my Earth interlopers.
The nickname was rather obvious after the fact. I have a lot in common with the comic heroine. I'm wild, cunning and won't take shit from noone. I'm drinking only blood, but I'm no vampiress at all. (Well, I mean, like, earth vampiress undead-boo-scream. Isn't it ironic?)
And I have pronounced mammaries, too, and my eyes are up here. What, shall I wear bloody clothing? That would be very unpractical in flight. (Admittedly, my pronounced mammaries are too.) OK, OK, considering the fact that I'm two meters of vampire bat, I can't fly at all on Earth since you botched up with the gravity, oh bother, do I feel fat.
Obviously, with that 1 g on our planet [], us vampire bats would never have become the dominant species there. Would like to return, but...the gravity. Right. Such happens if you let mad scientists screw around with the time-space continuum. So, a wormhole opens up on our planet, I happen to be nearby (and incidentally have a quantum physics Ph.D. and am most interested) and flutter through to find out which joker was responsible. Bad idea, curiosity grounded the bat. Just been through, and mayday mayday, there I already lied on my pretty horseshoe nose. (Only later I could somewhat adapt to gravity, god bless your steroids. Not that any of your bodybuilders could hold a candle to me even before that.)
The security immediately snatched me and brought me elsewhere. We're just out of the building when the wormhole collapses (as all wormholes made by incompetent scientists, hope they all went to your kind of hell, are prone to do) and takes the whole lab with it. Bummer. (Well, at least the security ran away like moths, which had the advantage that no mad doctor dissected me.) And if you say now that any science work can be reconstructed, true, but you can't program the endpoint of the wormhole and repeat the connection. Which makes me stranded a whopping 1000 light years from home (I studied your star maps). If I'd fly that back, my arms would get lame.
(Yep. That gag is lame either, even on Earth.)
Anyway. If life serves you gore, make black pudding, like my grandma used to say. Has anybody told you you have a wacky but interesting culture here? Kinda like it. And you Earthlings have something else remarkable: Really, really big []. Yours can't await it, right? Now come and unzip, I won't bite. Great Luna! Too bad YOU didn't went through the wormhole, or you now would be the star of our porn industry. If we had one, that is. Oh, and did you know that vampire bats are the only species beside humans who give out blowjobs? Oh, oh, if your [] continues to grow that way, there won't be enough blood for your brain. You Earthlings really jump on anything that is female and can't fly away...
GULP! [][][][][]!

Now look at that Earth wimp. I took his [] deep into my throat and gave him a good ultrasound vibration, and ka-donk, he immediately cums buckets and then passes out. Ah, nevermind, you already gave to me what I needed. I *drank* only blood, but other body fluids work too, as I found out. Convenient since there are so many willing donors. Not that I have to rob a blood bank or so to get my daily proteins. Or leave a trail of corpses behind me. Hey, I'm not Dracula.
Oh, hello, Mr. Police. (My dumb luck again. The only dark alley with a patrol.) There is really no need to point a gun at me, that guy is well (or at least I hope so) and I'm a friendly monster girl that only bites in self-defense. (Rats. Why don't I have hypno powers like Earth vampires?)
No, Mr. Police, you can't handcuff me since my wings ARE my hands. Try a peek into Kardongs Comparative Anatomy, McGraw-Hill 2015, willya? Very unpractical having to do everything with my feet instead especially as I tend to keel over. You really should consider to adapt your daily life to wingicapped people.
Ha, while I happily blabber about, the guy is moving again, see, told you so?
That was what Earth people call a distraction. I hope your hand is not broken, shall Mommy blow a bit so the pain goes away? But I hate it when someone makes holes in my pretty wings, I spend a fortune on mothballs.
There he runs in one direction and calls for backup. And lookie, Mr. Spermdonor stands up and runs into the other. There he falls over his trousers and tries anew. If a securitycam is present here somewhere, this is comedy gold for "This Is Gonna Hurt". Speaking of hurt, better take that stray gun before someone gets it. A girl needs a gun these days hey on account of all the rattlesnakes. And me off in a third one. Say, in what quarter of this lousy human town did I land?
Sounds vaguely hitech...Frankenstein Road/Moreau Drive...
"Abandoned Warehouse Inc."...
"ACME Corp."...
"Experimental Antigravity Devices - We give you a lift!"
Now that's either a hackneyed plot device or my first bout of good luck. "Let's see what hides behind door A", to quote one of my Earth favorites.
Oh, hey, judging from the fact you don't run away screaming at my sight, which is by the way considered beautiful by my own people, I guess you are the Mr. Mysterious-And-Curious Owner. Ha. Not many working here anyway... I'd like to purchase a prototype of your antigrav. I can pay with a) a dime I found in the gutter, b) []card, c) a very tight []. Or rob you blind with this...oh right, I threw it into the next mailbox. Too heavy.
Now that's funny, all Earth guys, at least those that didn't ran away in the first place, always go for choice c. And beautiful or not, I don't even remotely have an Earth girl face. Earth males sexual preferences would make an interesting Master thesis for one of my female students. Anyway. Whoa, this must be a new Earth record for undressing. Did they not teach you about proper foreplay... oh right, not capable of ultrasound. Nevermind, stud. He impales my [] which is dripping in anticipation. Oooh yes, stretch me like I'm giving birth. I heard giving birth hurts like fuck here on Earth. Poor women, no wonder they are so reluctant having sex. We [] residents enjoy it all the time. I wrap Mr. Owner tightly into my leathery wings. His mouth sucks on my left teat. Good that I'm sooo much taller, I doubt he wants to kiss me, monstergirl fan or not. And my horseshoe snout is really, really a beauty. Shame. He practically implores me to bite his neck when we enjoy a multiple [] together, strange fetishes those Earth guys do have. No, wait, of course only I have a multiple [] as the female of the species. Life is so unfair.
I pull myself together and drink only one litre. That should be safe enough. After he comes to his senses again he promise me to bring down the stars from the sky for me. Guy, in this state I won't let you even climb a ladder! Actually, as it is the case, his antigrav device is []ing working - unbelievable. So I can do the star-fetching myself.
WHEEEEEE! Now that's much more fun than sagging mammaries. I fly a looping around the chimneys donning the antigrav harness, and crown it with a perfect three-point landing on the roof building. Always was good in aerobatics. Then I reenter the facility as my scientifical fancy has been tickled. Mr. Owner declares me Experimental Subject #1 and let me keep the device. Then he introduces me to his staff...no, to his other staff. Which mainly consists of Mrs. Loony Scientist who immediately wants to show me her theory about wormhole locations. Sounds most fascinating, but actually she just wants to vanish into the next broom closet with me and show me her wormhole. I'm not that surprised, you'll never become a top scientist when you are not prone to experiment, experiment, more experiment.
It astounds me to learn that while I look extremely different to an Earthling, our [] are so similar. Mrs. Loony challenges me to a licking duel. First to [] loses. Stupid move - my ultrasound abilities, remember? After just a minute, she screams and passes out, infinite bliss written on her face. (I'm meanwhile quite good in reading Earthling faces.) Sorry, girl, that big fat spider in the edge is MINE! Ha, now I got you, that's a completely different bat species, you biology loser! She's a graceful loser either, and when she awakes again, she insists on ending the job. I too scream (in ultrasound) and pass out being very surprised. My last thoughts: Wow. Hadn't thought an Earth girl could do that without ultrasound.

I awake being shackled to a desk and Mrs. Loony trying to suck me dry. OK, my lovers always said I taste wonderful, but I hadn't thought that Earthlings might share the taste. She torments me with her non-ultrasound tongue which is deeply satisfying, but somehow I'm not made for bondage. I rip the chains out, tie up Mrs. Loony and learn that she cheated - she used a vibrator on me. Oh you little moth! My vengeance is swift and deadly. After three orgasm blackouts in a row she throws in the towel and begs for mercy.
After that, we exchange a few sick jokes about vampires and, eh, that lunar days. Which were probably old even in Draculas time. Then we dust ourselves off and go to the blackboard.
Well I'll be damned. Would you have expected that d/dx[ยง$%&?!?]=0... This could be a breakthrough in interstellar travel. If now we are lucky and u^3+I*v^3 happens to equal pi*w^3...Mr. Owner gets out his cellular and orders a truck of special equipment. (Good that he is filthy rich.) We saw and hammer all night (OK, actually not me, I'm not that well equipped for DIY) and in the morning, the "Stargate" is ready. We are not stupid. First of all, we get to sleep. I make myself comfortable hooking my foot claws into the ceiling. Sorry, you must take a lab desk...Mr. Owner is out of luck since he doesn't have a telephone number of a bed shop. OverspezzZZZZZ...
And second, we send a camera through. Then an animal. Then our nightwatch. He reluctantly asks if all females on my planet are as thirsty as me. Mr. Owner doubles his income. On hour later, he staggers out of the Stargate, grins "I cum in piece" and collapses on the spot. Some transfusions (Mr. Owner ordered a whole tanker, just in case) help him up again. Now isn't that an accident! He fell into the wings of my three curious female students, and he had to satisfy them all at the same time, without ultrasound or vibrator, the poor sod. Or lucky sod. I'd recognize them anywhere from his description of their wing patterns. I flutter through. Hooray! Finally back on my own planet! Mrs. Loony follows me. I talked Mr. Owner into also purchasing a tanker full of vibrators, for opening good neighborly relationships between the planet. Earth tech is a bit hick in comparison, but the vibrators incite an unisono "YES! YEEEES!" Oh, here come my male students too! Somehow they look depressed at the fact that they are no longer the top species - []wise that is. Mrs. Loony tries to console them and gives all three a blowjob - at the same time. Ha, I can *hear* all Earth males think: "But isn't that a bit...gay?" Entirely not our problem, folks, entirely not our problem. Then my whole class repays the favor on Mrs. Loony. She manages an ultrasound orgasm scream! We call it a day, she probably wouldn't survive another orgasm. Mr. Owner finally decides to join us. The females play [] to decide who may feel his [] first. The males look even sadder.
After that, we improvise a war room. The joyful first contact can't hide that a major problem lurks here. A billion [] with [] envy, meeting notoriously xenophobe Earthlings having a classical nightmare. A sure recipe for bad blood.
We all agree that it's the best to lie low first. No mass visits, no informing the public. My best student suggests a Hollywood SF blockbuster with an alien vampire bat in the main role. Clever idea. My second best student suggest an SF porn film with an alien vampire bat in the main role. Even more clever idea, but fails to FX costs. (Of course Mr. Owner could finance it, but it would look highly suspicious.) And then I have an idea that only can be termed [] brilliant.
"The Moon!" I exclaim. "Vampires are associated with the Moon since ages. We build a permanent Stargate from our planet to Earths moon. Too far away and inhospitable as that anyone could see it as a reasonable military danger, but close enough to start a small cultural exchange. And then we slowly build on that."
Wouldn't actually bet on it, but might work. My male students still pout. I give each of them a blowjob. Now they pout happily. It's my brilliant idea day today. Which actually will horribly backfire, but hear for yourself..."Mr. Owner! Come here!" "Yes?" "Explain to my students what a horse is." "Huh? A horse is an animal. It eats plants and is more or less tame. You can use it for work, you can ride on his back to get from A to B. Both is completely obsolete now, and we only use them for fun." "Mr. Owner, didn't you forget a crucial thing?" "Eh, like what?" "A horse has a [] that is 40 cm long, give or take. Are you envious of a horse because of that?" Mr. Owner blushes and denies that ostentatively. Of course I, experienced watcher of humans, can see he is a big fat liar. Of course my male students can't. Victory!!!
That is, until my female students who totally got the 40 cm [] into the wrong throat, metaphorically speaking, begin to joyfully discuss that the Earth women use horses for sex fun and whether [] women are built for that too, given that their [] are smaller but far more stretchable...
My [], what have I done.

The End