IIt was late in the morning on the second day, the sun blaring down onto Neo Denver in streams of heat, when Jez stepped into the shop. The rush of conditioned air leaving the store was almost as good an alarm as the bell over the door. Mocha was waiting for her, the new and improved Barb set on the counter with cases of shells and slugs to go along with the weapon.
Business had been good that morning, a few custom pistols having found new owners, and the bright smile on Mocha's face laid out her satisfaction for all to see. So when Jez walked over to her it was no surprise that the Amazon was smiling too, the joy in the area infectious. Then she looked down and saw her weapon.
To the untrained eye, Barb looked the same as always, a white and black double barrel break action shotgun with a graduated trigger and a long, solid, blackwood stock. To someone who had known the gun as intimately as her, it was obvious that she saw the changes.
The barrels themselves were larger, glimmering with laminate protection. The gun shone with the power coursing through its frame. The stock has been replaced and polished. Even the old true parts of the gun, including the barrel rungs and the breaker mechanism glowed like new. The gun before her was indeed her weapon, but it was also an entirely different beast now.
Jezzys smile was from cheek to cheek as she reached out, obviously unable to withhold her desire to hold her battle partner. Mocha watched Jezz heft the heavier weapon and enjoyed the amazon's grin as the tall woman recognized the extra weight.
"She is now the heavyweight champion!" Jez declared, not caring that she drew strange looks from the few customers who were actually in the shop at the time.
Mocha giggled at her friend's antics, smiling to match the taller woman. "Indeed she is. A single round from this could easily put down a Quaker bear. You don't come much more 'heavy weight' than the new and improved Barb."
Jezz held out her hand, clasping Mocha's and gripping firmly, though not enough to hurt the redhead. "Thank you, Mocha. With this, I will terrorize the wilds like the dragons in the old stories."
Mocha couldn't help but laugh at that, but she nodded. "Ha haa~ Of course, Jezzy. And you just come back if you need more rounds. We may not be making custom pieces while I'm gone, but the girls will be able to make the rounds for all of our existing works until I return," she said, leaning over the counter to pat the taller woman on the back.
"Oh I will. But I am looking forward to seeing my little sister return," Jez replied, ruffling Mocha's hair like she was a little kid again.
"Enough with that!" Mocha protested, slipping free of Jezzy and shooing her with her hands. “Get out of here ya big lug!”
Jezzy laughed all the way to the door, teasing Mocha and pulling her into hugs while the smaller woman protested and fussed. The pair of them took a good ten minutes to make it from the counter to the door with how much they were chatting, just enjoying the moment and one another. Yet soon enough, it was time for Jezzy to leave. They both stood at the threshold. Jezzy to the shop, and Mocha to a series of big changes.
They both looked at one another for a long moment, the tall powerful amazon and the diminutive redhead caught in the moment. Then Jezzy reached out with her hand. “Until we meet next. You be good, Mocha,” she said, smiling wide.
“You too, Jez. I can’t wait to hear your next crazy ‘wild huntress’ tale,” Mocha chuckled, taking the hand and shaking it, only to be pulled into another warm hug. She hugged back, smiling softly to herself. She really was going to miss her friend.
The pair chatted for a short while longer before Jezzy departed, her beautiful battle companion and new ammunition in tow.
It was at this point that Mocha excused herself with her girls, pulling on her long coat from the night before and checking both of her pockets before heading out.
—
Mocha strode quietly down the sidewalk, peering from side to side as she made her way through the busy, sunset lit streets the orange of the fleeing day painting the sides of the buildings and windows in brilliant radiance. Normally Mocha wouldn't be out in the streets at this time, preferring to avoid civilians, but today would be her last chance to set up appointments with Aesie. Otherwise she would be waiting indefinitely while she tried to complete her new duties, whatever those may be.
Ducking through the sidewalk traffic and into an alleyway off of University, she searched for the telltale sign for the hidden entrance into the SHentalli Co branch office building. It was a set of red halfbricks in the wall that when tapped in sequence opened after deploying a camo mesh.
Getting half way down the passage she found the 6 bricks. Arranged in a hexagon from the floor to about rib height for Mocha. The woman tapped 5 of the bricks in the particular order she was meant to, leaving the decoy brick alone and entering the door that formed in the wall next to the hexagon as the cloaking field covered her entry.
She took a deep breath as she entered a dark, plain space with black walls and ceramic tiled floors. The space was a solid 20 by 20 feet and didn't reveal any secrets. However it was cool, it's air fresh and clinically filtered. As the door closed behind Mocha, she found herself in complete darkness. Then the laser scan built into the pristine black walls turned on, sweeping down her body at an efficient speed. The red light used to indicate where the machine was scanning panned down in a uniform sweep that covered the entire room. Instinctually, Mocha closed her eyes as the scan moved over her face, not wanting to be further blinded.
There was an audible beep a few seconds later and then a voice bled from the walls, a robotic, androgynous tone speaking. "Greetings, guest. I do not recognize your biometric signature from the Neo Denver Archive and your body type gives back a short list of dangerous individuals within the city. You also are currently carrying a pair of deadly weapons in your coat. This leads me to believe that you are Designation: Mocha Arms Dealer. If this is the case, then as a sign that you mean no harm to this Aesie, please remove your coat and place it to the far right side of the room, after which you may proceed through the door that will open."
Lights from within the wall of the black room clicked on in unison, shining an odd gold past the black glass lining the walls. Mocha simply nodded. While she didn't like leaving her babies or her coat behind, she hadn't spoken to Aesie before. It didn't trust her, and for good reason. Taking off her long coat she took it to the side of the room and placed it in the corner. A door immediately opened on the opposing end of the room from where she entered. Adjusting her thigh length, pink tee, the woman strode forth, wondering what the place beyond that door held for her.
The next area was a 100 square yard space of plain tiled floor. The design was open and it was easy to see over the entire space. And even easier to see when the floor shifted, the "tile" rising to form a simple chair in front of her. Mocha stepped around the seat, hiking herself up a little to sit in the chair and then crossing her legs. Once again, the voice came from all around her. "Greetings, Mocha. Welcome to the Aesie Neo Denver unit. We are currently on the surface level of our facility. This is a secure and safe space meant for holding meetings. You expressed a desire to meet, pleading rights to anonymity to the public and confidentiality with all of your biometrics and activities with the Aesie. We are happy to comply."
Mocha gave a relieved sigh and then nodded. "Thank you, Aesie. It's a real pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure has not even begun Mocha," Aesie replied, continuing right on to business. " I would like to ask you a few questions and establish a few boundaries of consent."
Mocha was surprised with how fast things were moving, if only for a moment. Then she smiled and nodded. There was no need to be shocked. Aesie was the most advanced sexual gratification network on the planet. Of course it would be eager to continue it's exploration. "Ask away, Aesie. I will do my best to answer all your questions honestly."
"Good girl. As an applicant, you are aware that the Aesie demands obedience during your stay?" the unit said, more than asked. Mocha nodded anyway, shivering as she was praised, wanting to be compliant. "Good. Sessions with the Aesie are particularly exhausting. While you are not under obligation to stay in our suites after your sessions it is recommended. Do you understand?"
Mocha felt her cheeks reddening as she nodded. She was here particularly because sessions with the Aesie were known for their intensity.
"I detect heightened arousal. Interesting," the unit mused, only furthering Mocha's embarrassment. "In light of your condition, the Aesie unit would like you to register a safe word before we continue the interview," the Aesie said.
"Clementine," she replied easily. The word was… well, it had some significance to her, but she certainly didn't want to go into explaining it, and hoped that the Aesie wouldn't ask. Luckily it didn't.
"Safe word: 'Clementine' registered to user Pet: Mocha," the Aesie's voice came, the assertion of Mocha's role as a pet not going unnoticed by the petite redhead.
"Pet?" She asked, tittering nervously. "Isn't it a little soon for that kind of a designation?"
"Not at all," the Aesie replied without hesitation, its tone indicating bemusement. "Your arousal at the assertion indicates that you will enjoy being shown your place. It has yet to be seen whether or not you are a brat, but pets can be brats and vice versa," the unit continued conversationally.
Mocha felt herself growing hot, looking nervously around the room as her body betrayed her nervous arousal. Looking ahead, she drew in a breath to make a joke, hoping to break her own tension with some levity.
"Hush," the Aesie commanded, cutting her off as her lips parted. Mocha shut her mouth, straightening up in her seat. She felt indignant and thrilled in equal parts at being so handily cut off. The demanding presence that was the Aesie filled the room, even without anything to represent it in the space. "You were not asked another question, pet. If I wish to hear your voice, I will speak to you, or make you moan."
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Mocha considered what she had been told and what she had agreed to before nodding. She said nothing more, wanting to feel more of this… sensation. The Aesie paused, waiting just long enough to register her obedience before continuing.
"During this consultation I expect you to be honest. Hesitation to divulge requested information will be punished. Refusal to answer will result in your denial as an applicant. Do you understand, pet?" the Aesie asked, as Mocha felt the tile beneath her begin to shift, conforming to her ass, cradling her wide hips.
"Yes. I understand," she replied, nodding, her fingers lightly digging into the shirt. She had already promised that she would do her best to be honest, but the way it was being reestablished had her tense with anticipation.
"You will nod to give consent to each of the following things listed, and shake your head if you do not consent. Consent past this point may only be revoked through use of your safe word," the Aesie said, its voice calm and consistent throughout the room. Mocha felt something behind her move, and began to turn her head to see what was descending.
"Remain facing forward," the Aesie commanded. When Mocha froze and turned back to face her front, she knew whatever was behind her was a part of the Aesie unit that she was not allowed to see yet.
"Good. You consent to sexual stimulation by all Aesie units and Aesie affiliate units while on grounds of Aesie designated facilities or Chekov facilities?" The Aesie proceeded, pausing to observe Mocha.
"Yes," Mocha said, nodding, part of her mind curious about this Chekov Facility. Was it another stimulation AI, or maybe a medical experiment?
"I did not tell you to verbally assent, pet," the Aesie said, its voice devious and playful. Mocha flinched at the reproach, squeezing her thigh to remind herself to be obedient.
"You consent to obey the orders of the Aesie while on Aesie Designated facilities or Chekov facilities?" The Aesie continued as if nothing had happened, waiting for Mocha to nod before continuing.
"You consent to being bound, restrained, or otherwise held for the agreed duration of your appointments with an Aesie unit, while on Aesie Designated facilities or Chekov facilities?"
Mocha nodded again only to feel something wrap tight around the slender length of her neck, squeezing just tight enough to hold her still. Mocha gasped as the smooth feel of treated leather on her skin and the pressure around her neck sent tingles up her spine. Her lips parted as excitement blossomed in her body, her heart beating faster in her chest. But it wasn't over.
Something similar to the contraption around her neck wrapped around her wrists bringing them together behind her in such a way that she straightened her back and pressed out her breasts, putting her body on display for the Aesie.
"You submit to being punished for disobedience while you are in the care of an Aesie unit, so long as the punishment will not permanently harm, disfigure, or kill you?"
Mocha’s only response was a soft, panting, “I do.”
—
When finally Mocha stumbled out of the Aesie and into the alley, her legs were wobbling, her cheeks flushed and her hair still wet from the bath she took before leaving. Even after the recuperation time, Mocha had to admit that the Aesie really lived up to its reputation. She wasn’t even certain she was walking in a straight line as she made it back to the street. Luckily for her she got a moment to pause and steady herself when she felt her com vibrate.
The thin sheet of cured glass and tech slipped easily from her pocket as she pulled it out to see that she had just received a message from Stephanie. Steph was an middleman message girl who was being used for coms about the job, a layered method of communication that the PD wasn’t well known for using. The girl’s message was simple. “Tomorrow morning. Golden Reservoir. 9:15.”
Mocha really didn’t see the point in having a layered communication if the messages themselves weren’t cryptic in the least, but she wasn’t about to complain to the people who had agreed to pay her frankly ridiculous amounts of money on top of her business revenue. Sighing, the young woman sent a little eye emote in response and then stowed her com back into its sleeve in her pocket, heading home.
–-
It was 9 am when Mocha finally pulled her bike to a stop next to the agreed entrance to the parking area overlooking the Golden Reservoir. Simple breezes and the wafting scent of fresh water and trees rolled through the valley, blowing Mocha’s hair away from her face as she parked in a nearby spot and stepped off of the vehicle, freeing her head from her protective helmet. Placing the pink, protective gear onto the padded seat of her lightning pink KS Ronin H2.
Looking out onto the shimmering waters of the reservoir, Mocha sighed and stretched, taking in a big breath. The breeze smelled lovely, and in the warm morning sun. All around the cloudless sky cast back its lovely blue. The day felt good on her skin as she doffed her riding jacket and started making her way to the viewing pier with about ten minutes to spare. It wasn’t a long distance from the parking area, and Mocha could see the detective from a few nights earlier standing on the pier with his own bike in the distance, but she chose to walk.
Technically this meeting was in the wilds, somewhere that she hadn’t roamed in the past few months. There was something refreshing and beautiful about getting out of the city, even if it was dangerous. In fact, the danger probably helped. The thrill of adventure was enough to get Mocha’s heart pumping almost as hard as it had been before she had headed home the night before. Looking out over the water, only made things more thrilling in prospect.
The old city of Golden was quite the sight, a glassed mass of structures that had been completely wasted shortly after the Ignition and flooded by the ever expanding reservoir, until Golden itself had become a crystalline water city. With its fall, the growth of vegetation in the surrounding area had gone up over the past few decades, creating high forests and a beautiful spot that played home to some fantastic beasts. The people of Neo Denver had been living off of the font of water and liquid mana that was the reservoir for the decades since, amazed to find that the body of water no longer diminished. Mocha had heard that before the ignition, the state housing old Denver had been constantly under threat of drought. So having a limitless source of clean water for Neo Denver was an interesting juxtaposition in her mind.
As she cleared her thoughts, the detective cleared his throat, waving to her as she approached. He was, as always, an impressive figure in just how casual he was. Even here in this wild setting, he was calm, tired in a way that had nothing to do with the time of morning, and, if Mocha was judging him right, he was bored. How he managed such a consistent mood from waking to sleep was beyond Mocha. “Seriously, detective? This early in the morning and you still look like you’re just leaving work,” Mocha teased, waggling her fingers at him as she strode closer to him.
“Just the way it is, Ms. Bottsu,” the detective replied, giving her a calm nod of greeting and a gentle, knowing smile as he looked out over the reservoir. “I do appreciate you being on time,” he continued, his tail lazily waving from side to side, the long furs trailing after the base as he observed the lost city.
“Please, it’s Mocha. I’m not nearly old enough to be a ‘ms.’” she teasingly insisted. “And it’s not a problem. I do like getting paid, and I’m interested to meet this special person who wanted to meet me badly enough to bribe the PD with priceless information.” While her tone was lighthearted and playful, she was truly curious, still wondering who would call on her for help for such a big thing.
The Detective only nodded in reply, checking his wrist and exposing a wrist watch, an old time piece the likes of which were very rare. Most people simply relied on their coms for time-keeping purposes. But something about that gesture, his familiarity with the watch and the way he acted made everything click for Mocha. She smiled, looking at the detective in a new light, turning to have a look at his bike as the breeze rode in over the rippling, crystal clear waves.
It was a refurbished Harley, a classical vehicle that must have been utterly painstaking to retrieve, machine, and repair, let alone maintain. But it was a beauty all the same, a heavy road master with a polished wide-winged fairing. The entire beast was built to dominate space and show off the rider. If Mocha wasn’t so opposed to loud vehicles herself, she’d likely have chosen something similar for her midsummer joyrides… If she’d been strong enough to handle the weight.
“I see you like the classics?” she asked, trying to strike up a conversation with the man while they waited. Being a fan of pre-ignition traditions, culture, and hardware herself, she was eager to see if it was something they could at least talk over a little. Luckily for her, after another quick glance at his wrists, the detective nodded, looking at her.
“I do… Not something I’m too big on parading about,” he replied, turning his body to face hers as she leaned on the railing next to the pier. He was a large male, like most lycans, about six-and-a-half feet in height when he was standing straight, minus the ears. His jaw was handsome, distinguished, and she found that he was in a very cleanly put together shirt and slack combination beneath his coat, though his harness betrayed that he was more prepared for combat than one would guess at first glance. “How’d you guess?” he asked, drawing her mind from his appearance.
“Honestly?” Mocha asked, playing coy for a moment, until he nodded. “It was the watch. Some people wear them as fashion. Other people have never heard of these things. That’s an analog watch, not a digital one, and you looked at it for the time rather than pulling out your com. Like your com didn’t even cross your mind. That tells me you have practice,” she replied. There was no getting around the fact that his habits told her that he was drawn to the times before. She respected that.
“Huh. Didn’t think you’d pull that much just from my watch. You looking to hop on as a junior detective?” he asked, chuckling to himself as, for the first time, she caught him emoting. It was a flash of genuine levity that Mocha resonated with.
“I can’t say I am,” she giggled back, smiling and turning to look back out over the water with him, leaning low to rest her elbows on the bar and watch the sun climb over the water. It really was a beautiful day.
The pair of them talked for a short while after that, but as the minutes dragged on, the detective began to frown as he continued to check his watch. Mocha was about to ask him what exactly was going on when both of them heard a buzz and a plucky, jaunty tune coming from the detective’s pocket. He smoothly fished out his com and flicked it to unlock it. The sounds that came from it were intense and horrible.
The mad bark of gunfire and the rumble of vehicles on uneven pavement almost drowned out the screaming. Almost.
“CONVOY IS UNDER ATTACK! RAIDERS ARE ATTACKING THE CARGO! I REP-” There was a deafening scream, like fire soaring through a pipe and then the call disconnected from the other side. The detective’s ears went back, a growl of frustration building in his throat as Mocha stared on, wide-eyed.
The man started dialing numbers on his com, seconds later, gesturing to Mocha as he did so, the growl gone and his tone even again. “Go get your helmet. We’re going,” he said, putting the com to his mouth and beginning to bark orders and directions into the little machine.
Jogging back to her bike, Mocha threw on her riding Jacket, and slipped a hand into the pocket. Retrieving a sleeve, she pulled out a tight little pair of shades and flicked them open, pulling the rose colored glasses onto her face. The tint would ease the strain on her eyes and the glasses were made to stay on her face during wild movement, rather than fall off. She didn’t bother picking up the helmet as from behind her, she heard the low crackle and rumble of a harley coming to life.
Instead, she slapped the back of her own bike, opening the rear compartment and retrieving her own holsters, along with her weapons, her small, white, automatic pistol, ShuDaige, and Chullaine, her long nosed, reinforced revolver. Strapping the hip and thigh holsters onto her body, she pulled herself together just in time for the detective to pull up next to her, his own muzzle exposed.
“Helmet?” he asked, looking at hers settled onto her ride.
“Where’s yours?” Mocha quipped, moving behind him and throwing her leg over the seat as she hopped up behind him and slipped an arm around his waist.
“They don’t make them in my size,” he lied, but she could hear the chuckle in his voice and it made her laugh.
“Well let’s not keep the team waiting,” she said, leaning into the lycan. He looked back at her for a moment before shrugging and kicking off, the Harley roaring as she slid into motion and started over the pavement, rolling away from the sun toward whatever misfortune the future held.