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There Will Be Scritches
There Will Be Scritches, Interlewd XV: Pancakes and Snu Snu

There Will Be Scritches, Interlewd XV: Pancakes and Snu Snu

---Emiko’s perspective---

I stand in the doorway of my room, the two excessively handsome women stood across the threshold from me.

“Happy birthday again, Emiko… Many happy returns!” beams Xon.

I smile sweetly back, with a long (slightly drunken) blink and hold out my arms.

Her wide mouth grins, mischievously, and she bends down to hug me.

It… does take me back to being a child… hugging someone so tall.

Let me think… how old would I have been when my mother was, proportionally, this much taller than me? 10? 11?

I notice that Thran is sort of just awkwardly standing to one side.

Without releasing Xon from the hug, I twist my body and extend my arm to the fiery haired woman.

After an uncertain moment of hesitation, Thran steps forward (knocking me and her girlfriend, both, slightly off balance as she impacts the side of the hug with just a little too much force… it must be a challenge to control things like that when you have such density that you literally mass the same as 3 women of a healthy weight and equal height!).

I squeeze, gratefully, as the rich, combined fragrance of both of them fills my nostrils… I feel a pang of longing, momentarily, before I squash it down.

“Thank you… both of you… You’ve made this a birthday to remember.” I smile, sweetly, still hugging them, my eyes closed.

Pulling away and drawing back up to her considerable height, Xon grins back “I’ll not soon forget it either… I hope we can do this again, soon!… Let us know if you ever want a chat… don’t feel like it has to wait for another special occasion or anything!”

I nod “I’ll bear that in mind… Good night, you two!”

The tall woman nods (Thran just briefly fixes me with her usual Kubrick stare) before they both turn toward Xon’s room.

I spend just a moment longer than I should looking after them, as they go, before sighing and waving the door closed.

Slumping down onto my bed, I pick up my holo and begin thumbing through the messages I received while with the two girls.

Mostly messages wishing me a happy birthday. There’s one from my half sister, one from Doc and many others from the friends I’ve accumulated, over the years. There are even a few from gardenworlder friends of mine, doing their very best to understand this strange deathworld custom(!)

There’s a message from Hrom; he wishes me a happy birthday and explains that he’s been seeing someone and it’s become quite serious.

There’s a picture attached of him with his arm around a slim, dark haired, Sapiens man with sharp eyes.

I have a brief giggle at the tactlessness of choosing to tell me this on my birthday… followed by a tiny bit of jealousy.

It’s not as if I actually want him back after all this time but, still, there is a little pang of regret as I imagine the life we could have had if I’d been willing to accompany him back to his homeworld.

Well, there’s no use lamenting what might have been.

I compose a reply thanking him for the birthday message and wishing him luck with his new partner.

Then, my eyes alight on the most recent message… from MidnightBunny626… who is that?

I open it up and quickly remember who.

> Dear xXxSnowStormxXx

>

> Apologies for the delay, I had a bit of a queue to get through but I’ve finally finished the animation you requested: Slim East Asian (f) dominated by Muscular Neanderthal (F).

>

> As previously discussed, there’s no colour, the whole animation is greyscale.

>

> The first minute should be available to watch at this link.

>

> If you like what you see then please pay the remaining balance here for access to the full video.

>

> I really hope you like it but, unfortunately, on the advice of my partner, your deposit is not refundable.

>

> If there’s any adjustment you’d like made, let me know and we can negotiate it.

>

> Neural interface VR capability (for either character) can be added but that is beyond my skillset, I’m afraid.

>

> All the best!

>

> MidnightBunny626

I feel a complicated maelstrom of emotions in my stomach as I recall the impulsive, drunken decision to commission an animation of myself and Thran, shortly after meeting her.

There’s fear; I can only imagine the career destroying headline ‘ODR Subcontractor Discovers Senior Figure’s Grossly Indecent Conduct, Harassment Charges Filed’!

Guilt; That poor girl does not deserve to be fetishised like this!

And… a little disappointment; I sort of wish that the drunken moment of deciding to make this commission had come just a week or two later… I would have like to include ‘Wiry Tshwane (F)’, in hindsight(!)

There’s a brief moment where I consider just deleting the message and forgetting this whole thing as a mistake… I’d lose the deposit but…

‘No…’ I rationalise ‘…the artist deserves to be paid for the work they’ve done… I did ask for this commission… even if I, now, regret doing so!’

I sigh and, without checking the link to the sample I tap the second link and pay the outstanding balance then toss my holo down onto the bed and roll over to bury my head in my pillow.

I wallow a few minutes, trying to cope with the tangled web of negative emotions… then I begin to rationalise, once more; It’s not as if I gave the artist her name… It wouldn’t be any worse to watch the video than it was to commission it, in the first place!… It’s not like I’ll ever let her find out…

My horniness eventually wins out and I open the file, flicking it to a wall display and grabbing a pair of headphones.

The characters appear.

It’s astonishing!… I know I gave descriptions of how I wanted both of them to look but… the artist got them perfect!

It’s almost as if they actually used the two of us as inspiration!

I mean… they may well have used Thran as a model for herself… given that she’s a moderate celebrity and, I’m certain, her image will dominate the top results of any image or vid search for the search-term ‘muscular Neanderthal woman’. Me, however, I’d be extremely surprised to see my image in the top thousand results for ‘slim East Asian woman’!

The faces are just different enough to our real ones that a court would rule them ‘legally distinct’ but everything else is spot on!

Thran’s character strides to mine with bravado I’ve never seen on her in real life and slams me into the wall of the dungeon we’re in, choking me with her powerful hand and pulling upward such that my feet are lifted from the floor.

I’m treated to a closeup shot of offbrand Thran telling me I belong to her and she’s going to hang me from the ceiling, making a living ornament of me for the rest of my life, before she roughly manhandles me, binding my hands and legs… forcefully ballgagging my mouth, despite the fact that the only noises I’ve thus far made have been pathetic little gasps and moans of shock and alarm.

I’m twisted into an inverted crescent, on the floor, as not-Thran hogties my limbs behind me before bringing down a rope, threaded through a pulley on the ceiling.

“Oh, hello Mr Leftie… where do you think you’re going(?)” I giggle to myself as my left hand strokes down my side, across the top of my thigh and under the hem of my chemise, into my panties.

As the me on screen is lifted from the floor, I bring my right hand to my left breast and begin a sensual massage.

I close my eyes and listen to the simulated voice of Thran’s character telling mine that she’s ‘a pathetic little slut, no good for anything besides looking pretty and getting fucked!’

I tease the lips of my pussy and let out a squeak of pleasure… it’s at that point that I realise that I never put up the privacy field or locked my door… both probably good ideas…

I open my eyes… then freeze…

---Xon’s perspective, the next day---

I walk down the corridor of Triple M, returning to the room I had such a great time in, last night.

Rather than waving to send an alert, I bring the second knuckle of my index finger up to the door and knock out a *rap**tap-tap-tap-tap**tap* on it.

A moment of silence, as, I’d guess, she’s checking who it is, then a miserable voice answers “Go… away… Xon!”

I chuckle “Now… that’s not very friendly(!)”

“…Let me wallow, Xon!… Leave me alone.”

“What if I were to offer a bribe? Say… a sheaf of hangover caps for a few minutes of your time?” I say, playfully holding the promised medicine in front of myself for her to see.

A silent moment where I can feel her deliberating… then the door cracks and a very dishevelled Emiko ‘Smiles’ Miyazaki reveals herself.

She holds out her hand but I smile and shake my head “Nope… you let me in, then I give you this!”

She falters a moment before waving the door all the way open and jerking her head for me to follow.

The door closes behind me and I hit the lock and privacy switches before taking off my shoes and leaving them with hers.

She flumps down on the sofa, without any of her usual grace, before stabbing her hand at me for the bribe.

I hand them over and she greedily pops one before swallowing it.

I watch as the bloodshotness fades from her unnaturally purple eyes.

“Better?”

She looks up at me with the same scowl she wore in that old photo and answers “Physically? Yes… What was your plan for if I’d been stocked up?”

I snicker “Well, that would be to point out that you probably didn’t want to have this conversation through your door, where anyone might overhear… I’m glad plan A worked and I didn’t have to resort to threats!”

She sighs “I’m guessing Thran told you what happened…?”

I nod “She did… Honestly, I really wish I’d been there! Seeing the two of you just stare eachother down like deer in headlights before, from the sounds of it, she just awkwardly slunk forward, picked up her forgotten cardy then left without saying anything… Priceless!”

“I’m glad you think this is so funny(!)” she glowers, bitterly “I’m sure that girl must be horrified by being leered at and sexualised by a boss who’s more than twice her age… and my career is over!”

I cock an eyebrow, quizzically “What makes you say that?”

She gives an irritated motion of her hand and glares “Well… what I did was completely inappropriate… when the ODR find out, my Terran colleagues will make sure I loose my job over it…”

“…If the ODR find out…” I say, letting my words hang in the air a moment before adding “Thran isn’t ‘horrified’, by the way, though she is too embarrassed to join in, for this conversation.”

She narrows her eyes, suspiciously, bringing my attention back to her deep purple irides, again. Of all the colours for them to have accidently ended up, purple has got to be the most flattering!

“Alright, what do you want? Money?” she says.

I’m dumbstruck a moment before I manage to stammer “…E-E-E-Emiko?! You think I’m here to blackmail you?!?!?! You and I are friends! I’m hurt!!!”

Surprise crosses her face and her scowl dissipates “I’m… I’m sorry… you just… you made it sound… it sounded like your silence was contingent on something…”

I suppose it did, thinking back!

“Well, it’s not! All I want is to talk about it!” I respond.

She holds up her hands, her facial expression a mix of concern for having offended me and relief that I’m not going to ruin her or blackmail her and she says “OK… let’s talk!”

I give a satisfied nod before starting “…So… you have a Neanderthal fetish, right?”

She frowns, uncertainly, then shakes her head and says “No… not… exactly… it’s not so specific… more like… a brawn fetish?… Stoutness? Sturdiness? Robustness? It’s difficult to pin down… Neanderthals tend to scratch the itch quite nicely but… I’m not picky…”

My heart sinks a little… I’m none of those things… at least by Sapiens standards…

“Have you always had this fetish…” I ask, disguising my disappointment.

Her face flushes and she answers “No… can I show you something…? You just need to promise not to laugh!…”

“I promise… to try not to laugh at whatever it is you want to show me.” I respond, carefully.

She retrieves her holopad and searches a moment before turning it around, revealing the androgynous face of a young man with neon green hair and electric blue eyes.

“When I was a teenager, this was my type; Kazuto ‘Swoon’ Cooper, a member of the boy band The FlYing FoXes… They’re still together, though, nowhere near as popular as they where in the 70s… Fleem X and a few other modern groups definitely owe some of there sound to The FlYing FoXes… He was a local boy, from Atarashī Hinode, and, Kami-sama, the embarrassing schoolgirl fantasies I used to have about him coming home and us running into eachother… I was a little out of control!”

Remembering my promise I stifle my laugh.

“Very mid 27th century style… It’s… uhhm… it’s a little difficult to imagine that guy Domming anyone!… Also, ‘Cooper’?”

She rolls her eyes and waves her hand in a irritated flick “Yes, New Australian great grampa, same way not everyone on Zanzibar has a Swahili surname!… And you’re right… I never imagined him Domming me… I imagined being the Domme in this nonexistent relationship!… I imagined tying him to a chair, putting on a playlist of his band’s sexier songs, straddling his hips and stifling his protests with kisses…”

“So… you’re a Switch? You like to Domme men and be Dommed by women?” I ask with an inward whoop but an outwardly curious, level tone.

She shakes her head “I didn’t know I was bi until my late twenties… and I’m not a Switch… it’s more accurate to say I ‘switched’… once!”

“And what cause that?… Or do you not know…” I ask, leaning forward and listening intently.

“Oh… I know exactly what switched me from Domme to sub… it was seeing what happened to all the cute, little softbois, during the War… they either ceased to be so or they didn’t last long… After about the fifth time a boy I had a crush on had his idiocy permanently cured, something snapped in me… I realised I no longer wanted a weak, helpless lover who’d let me dominate him… I wanted a strong lover who’d take care of me… who would take away all of the crushing responsibility I had, each and every day, string me up, look after me… and only ask my freedom and my beauty in return…”

I nearly make a quip about her being ‘modest too(!)’ but… well I think it would be kinda flippant after the heaviness of what she just told me… Also, she actually is one of the most stunningly beautiful people I’ve ever set eyes on. So, it’s not as if she’s being that conceited…

“What made you realise you were bi?”

“Oh… well, first, I was into tomboy x femboy porn, in my teens… I was a tomboy with a fetish for subby softbois so the idea of feminising them was just an exciting little bit of garnish… During the War I started dipping into futanari porn…”

“Ah, tomboys, femboys and futa… the downfall of many a youth’s exclusive straightness(!) I know they were my gatewaydrug to bisexuality!” I quip, amused.

She returns a wry smirk before continuing “…but… the first time I was actually attracted to a real flesh and blood woman… was when I was 28. I was at uni and decided to sign up for a jujutsu tournament, just for old time’s sake. I got second place… the girl who got first was a gorgeous Denisovan with hips for days, thighs that could crush a watermelon (I know because we tried it) and the most divine belly folds you’ve ever seen on a Human being! She was called Khel Woods… When we grappled I felt this thrilling swoop in my stomach at how she was just… manhandling me! She tossed me around that mat like I weighed nothing! She clearly caught on because she came up to me afterward and asked me if I wanted to grab a drink… and later that night I had my head between her thighs…”

I grin “Pleeease tell me that at some point during the evening you said ‘…but, I’m straight!’ and she answered ‘So is spaghetti until it gets wet!’”

Her face flushes pink.

“By the Spirits! You DID!” I guffaw “Does that pun even work in Japanese?!”

She sighs “Yes… but only because ‘ストレート’ is an English loanword… It doesn’t work if you don’t speak enough English to know that it also means ‘unbent’… I would also like to clarify that we were aware of the ancient meme and actively playing into it, as teasing foreplay!”

“At least now I know why you’re so… intimately familiar with the capabilities of Denisovans(!)” I grin.

Her brow furrows “How…?”

“Mouse told me… Said she thought you probably had a Denisovan ex…”

She huffs, disbelieving and answers “Of course(!)… That girl really does have a six sense for these things!”

“So…?” I start, quizzically “…what made you so horny that you looked up Thran x Emiko lookalike porn? Is… being back on this planet making you… lonely?”

She shakes her head “First off… I didn’t ‘look up’ that porn… I commissioned it!”

I giggle “Weird flex but OK(!)”

She rolls her eyes “I commissioned it months ago… in the brief period between when I met Thran and when I met you… the artist only just cleared their backlog enough to get it finished (they’re quite popular, as of recently) so no, it has nothing to do with being back on the planet where I lost my virginity!”

My mouth falls open and my eyes go wide.

She wavers, uncertainly, a moment, clearly instantly regretting the bombshell she just dropped, but then her body language seems to settle into a defiant ‘and what of it!?’.

I manage to find my voice, raise my hand and say “Come here, Emiko…” with a beckoning gesture and a sympathetic tone.

She appraises me a moment (seeming to be trying to work out if this is some sort of trap) then relents, stands and comes to me.

---Emiko’s perspective---

The strikingly lovely woman gives me a smile broader than any Sapiens could, takes my hand and, performing an underarm turn on me, spins me into a seated position, between her legs.

I’m reflexively stiff (afterall, an extremely attractive woman has just pulled me, effectively, onto her lap(!)) then I feel hands at my shoulders, gently and calmly pulling me backward, against her.

My head comes to rest between her… surprisingly large breasts… OK, Emi… take your heart from the whorehouse! This is a consoling gesture… she doesn’t fancy you, I’m sure! She’s doing this because what you just revealed made her pity you. She’s holding you the way she might hold an upset child… Damn it… that just made her sexier!

“So… Emiko… may I have a crack at biographing the life and times of the great Mistress Miyazaki(?)” she quips, holding her elongated palms out on her thighs, facing up.

I raise an eyebrow and look over my shoulder (more accurately; I look over her right tit) to see her face smiling kindly down at me.

“…*huhhhh* Go on then…” I sigh. Accepting the wordless invitation to place my hands in hers.

She’s only about 25% taller than me but her hands are nearly twice the length of mine… my entire hand almost fits in her palm!

“Well…” she hooks her elbows under mine and jiggles me a moment, feeling my weight and density “…until last night I would have said you had a ballet dancer’s physique… plenty of muscle but it’s conditioned, from nearly infancy, to lie flat for maximum flexibility… you look nearly as slim as I am but I’m guessing your BMI is right in the middle of Sapiens’ ‘healthy’… 22? 23?”

“…And… what about now?” I say, closing my eyes and listening to her heart beat against the back of my head.

“After your little display? I’d call this a ‘martial artist’s physique’, now(!)” She chortles “I’m guessing you did kenjutsu, jujutsu and maybe one or two others since not long after you took your first steps… and I’m guessing you did so with some gusto?… When you weren’t training you were studying and, as a result, you never had time for a boyfriend (at least a nonparasocial one(!)) Am I near the mark?”

“Uncannily.” I nod “…though, this does feel a bit… Barnum Effecty…”

She gives a brief, voiceless snort “Alright then, time to kick it up a notch!…

I don’t turn around so I can’t see her face but there’s a moment’s pause that I imagine is filled by a smug smile before she continues “…of course… it doesn’t take a detective to work out that you’re from a prestigious family… given that your big sister was the first Terran ever to set foot on the floor of the GU Parliament… (sidenote; I think you’ve felt a little overshadowed by the fact that your sister has a galactically recognisable face and made your name galactically recognisable, but you like her and respect her so you try not to resent her for it)… I’m guessing your dad was a bit of an irascible, belligerent, hardass firebrand and that’s why his marriage to Jeanne’s mum (who was the same) didn’t work… I’m guessing your mum was a bit more laid back? Kindlier? More of a free spirit?”

“She was.” I confirm “Tombe ‘Breeze’ Upash… An Ainu community leader on Hinode and one of the most chilled out, and cheerful people you could possibly want to meet.”

“I’m guessing your father was older? Maybe in his seventies when he died on the Paloma?”

I stiffen “…How…how did…?”

“Military History… part of officer training… the fact that Jeanne ‘Blitz’ Miyazaki’s dad died in the War’s opening salvo came up… I made the connection last night when you mentioned your ‘personal reasons’…” she answers with a slightly apologetic tone.

“Ah… so… we’ve moved on from cold reading to hot reading now, have we?” I ask, sedately.

“You want me to stop?” she asks, her tone conveying that, if I say ‘yes’, she will stop, immediately.

I think about that for a few moments.

“…No… keep going… Whatever your methods, I’m curious as to how much more you can get right…”

With a satisfied exhale, she continues “The War was hard for you… I know a lot of idiots think that ground forces had it easy… afterall, everyone knows gardenworlders pose less threat than toddlers and so they don’t think about all of the other shit. They don’t understand the psychological toll that endlessly mowing down waves of powerless enemies, while knowing that one slip up could mean your life, takes on a person… They don’t understand the stress of being deployed on a fragile alien world that a single unsterilised shit could utterly devastate… They don’t know what it’s like to spend a month starving because your supply drop never came so you have to live off gardenworld forage with pisspoor nutrition… Even though a lot more Terrans died in the Navy, Marines and Fighter Forces, the rate of attrition was nearly as bad, on the ground. It’s just that so many more Terrans were in the Voidside branches that the statistics make the more than half billion KIA/MIA ground Forces seem like not that much… but you know!… You lost friends… a lot of friends… enough to make a person question whether it’s worth getting attached at all. Afterall, a person you go to bed with tonight might have a plasmablade put through their chest, tomorrow… So you foreswore relationships of any kind, even purely sexual… you made excuses to yourself; ‘it would be distracting’, ‘it would be an abuse of power’, ‘it would compromise fitness for duty’ etc. etc. but the real reason is that you were scared that you’d loose him, the way you lost those boys you crushed on early in the War, the way you lost your parents, the way you lost the life you had before the War and that, this time, you wouldn’t be able to handle it… This time, you’d break!… Then, the War ended and sure, you were covered in scars and down a couple of eyes, but you finally felt free! You were being put up in a lodge, in paradise, next to a guy you’d been crushing on for a while and, finally, you felt like you could fall into his arms and let him take charge the way you had never been able to when he was your subordinate… It was a whirlwind! I’m guessing you were fucking three to five times a day on every surface of your lodge! But then he said he wanted to go back to his homeworld and asked you to come… but you just couldn’t see yourself fitting into his plans… so things ended. You went back to Hinode and started working on your career… since then you’ve had a few flings but… not as many as you would like? And, there’s always some reason not to go for it; ‘I’m her boss’, ‘I’m twice her age’, ‘she has a girlfriend and, even if they’d be comfortable…’ etc. etc. so you commissioned porn to enjoy, in private, to scratch the itch that you don’t feel allowed to scratch for real.”

She stops there and I feel her chest rising and falling, a little faster than previously, against the back of my head.

“Xon… how long has it been since Tshwane were last called a ghost lineage?” I ask, smiling.

She answers “89 years… Since our genome was sequenced confirming us and one of the ghost lineages in the Khoisan to be one and the same… Why?”

I chuckle “Because that was spooky!”

She giggles “Well, yeah… I am a military interrogator… I’m good at looking at a person and using context and info I already have to read what brought them to where they are…” she pauses here before sighing and adding “…it’s really just a shame that I’m not your type… I’d have loved to invite you in to our bedroom(!)”

Instantly, my mouth goes dry, my breathing quickens and my pulse skyrockets…

I turn around, feeling my heartbeat in my throat, and look up at her gently smiling face.

Say it… go on… say it! Why don’t you just take the plunge Emiko!? She’s right! You’ve spent a lifetime unnecessarily denying yourself! Just say it!

“Who… *gulp*… who said you weren’t my type?”

---Thran’s perspective, that evening---

I knock out the last of my benchpress set and wrack the bar before sitting up.

“Gravity:…*huh*… Earth…*huh*… Standard.” I say, followed by the crushing weight of my body being immediately reduced.

“Can I come out now?” yells Xon from the bathroom.

“Yep…” I shout back.

The door slides open and out comes the personification of statuesque beauty and grace that is Xon ‘Longstride’ Loper, wearing an absolutely gorgeous combination of sleek satin trousers and a sleeveless shirt, with a boobwindow, all in the same jet black as the silky smooth ringlets of hair on her head.

Her face is beautifully made up and her hair is looking as perfect as always.

She is the ultimate woman!

“You look… really good…” I say, stupidly.

She grins broadly and answers “Thanks… it’s good to make an effort… it’s not every day that we get to do something like this, afterall!”

I feel anxiety rise in my stomach.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” says Xon with… concern?… Yes, I think that tone is concern.

“Well…” I shuffle, awkwardly “…I’m just… I’m a bit…”

“Nervous?”

“Yes. Nervous.” I answer.

“Tell me what your nervous about…” she says, kindly (I’m pretty sure).

“Well… what if she doesn’t like it? What if I hurt her by accident? What if shethinksitssobadthatshedoesn’tevenwantmetobeherbodyguard,anymore,and…”

Here, Xon kneels down, bringing her face to the same level as mine.

“Babe! Babe! Babe!…” she says, cutting off my yammering “…Breathe!”

I laugh but also follow her advice, stopping to take a few slow, deliberate inhales while she says “Look, I want to be clear, if you say you want to call this off, we call this off! You don’t need to justify it… you don’t need to worry about disappointing me… I’m excited… but I’m excited because I think this is something we both want!… If you’ve gone off the idea, then so have I… but I don’t think you have, have you?… I think these are just the same nerves you had, yesterday, when you came back, cardy in hand, panting, talking at a mile a minute… When I managed to calm you down enough to get you to comprehensibly explain that you’d caught Emiko petting the kitty to porn of (obviously meant to be) you and her, and I asked what you wanted to do about it, you said that what we’re about to do would be the perfect result, right?… If you’ve changed your mind that’s fine… so long as you have changed your mind…”

I look into her breathtaking violet eyes, then down at the floor, then up at the ceiling then back into her eyes.

“You’re right… I don’t want to call it off… but I’m still really nervous…” I say.

She smiles “OK… try something for me… I want you to imagine the absolute worst thing that could conceivably happen because of what we’re about to do.”

“The… worst thing? Not the best?”

She shakes her head “Nope… give me catastrophe! Only condition is that there has to be a causal link between inviting Emiko into our bedroom and this outcome…”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I think for a while.

“…I… suppose…” I start.

“Yeeeeees…?” prompts Xon with a flutter of her eyelids.

“I suppose, the worst thing that could possibly happen would be that I do something so repulsive to Emiko that she dismisses me as her bodyguard, I lose my license to practice and you break up with me…”

She beams “And… exactly how likely do you think you are to do something so objectionable?… Especially given that, as the one who negotiated the boundaries, I’m going to be the one taking the lead… and if she wants to expose you to the licensing body, she also has to expose herself!”

I nod, thoughtfully.

“…Very unlikely…”

She grins… gleefully?

“And… let’s say the worst did happen… you do something so vile that I break up with you, Emiko fires you and you lose your license? Do you reckon you’d survive it?”

I think about that one a while before starting “You mean…?”

“I mean; do you think you’d be so distraught as to unalive yourself? Do you reckon, without your bodyguarding revenue, you’d be at risk of starving to death like a preUnification pauper?”

I shake my head, deliberately, and answer “…No… I think I would still be comfortable with UBI and my bodybuilding revenue… I would be pretty miserable about losing you and losing bodyguarding but I wouldn’t kill myself, I’m sure!”

She smiles “You’d… I’m guessing… hop a transport back to Yanga Dala, mope for a bit then get up and at ’em with your bodybuilding?”

I consider “…Yes… probably… Thank you Xon… I feel a bit better… but…”

She raises her eyebrows “But..?”

“…what if you and she decide that… you like being with eachother… more than you like being with me? That’s… a lot more realistic and almost as bad…”

“Ah… the Poly Conundrum(!)” she smirks “Well… from what Emiko told me… she’s not looking to be an equal partner in this relationship… all she wants is for us to play with her… She’s not looking to become ‘Mrs. Loper’, ‘Mrs. Hunter’ or ‘Mrs. Loper-Hunter-Miyazaki’(!)… She’s not looking to go to a gene clinic for an adorable little three-way hybrid daughter with us(!)… As for me… you’re just going to have to trust me that, while I think she’s a perfect 10… I think you’re a 15!”

“I’m… sorry?” I ask, confused “A 15 what?”

“Out of 10, dummy!” she laughs.

“…meaning?”

She gives a sigh… I think amused more than exasperated.

“Meaning she’s perfect… you’re better than perfect…” she brings a hand to my forehead, giving me a flick “…dummy!”

“Oh…” I say, rubbing the spot on my forehead, as if it hurt “…thank you…”

She laughs heartily, beams and pulls me in for a kiss… well, she pulls herself into me, really, but the point is we’re kissing and it’s because of her.

Her nose rubs against mine as she explores my mouth with that overlong tongue of hers.

She brings her hands to my arsecheeks and gives them a firm squeeze.

She breaks from the kiss, removing her tongue from my windpipe and, eyes closed, rests her forehead against mine, two or three strands of saliva still connecting our mouths… I’m… almost certain this is tenderness… I feel tender, at least.

“Alright, babes. Go have a shower… you’re very sweaty! I left some presents in the bathroom… read the note first, though!” she smiles, standing back up to tower over me again.

“Presents?”

“Yes… presents.” she grins.

“Are you going to tell me what they are?” I ask.

“I already told you what they are… in the note you’re yet to read…”

“Alright… are you going to tell me why you’re giving me presents?”

She bends down to kiss my forehead before saying “Why don’t you try reading the note(!?)”

“Al… alright…” I say, uncertainly, before making my way to the bathroom.

The door closes and I look around for a moment before I see a box with a piece of paper on top of it.

She’s written in English, as it’s the only real language we share and there’s no easy way to make paper translatable. I would have had to get my holopad out to see what it said, if she’d written in ǃXóõ or Swahili.

> Baby

>

> Inside the box is the outfit I would like you to wear tonight.

>

> I would have made it black, to match mine, but I know you prefer earthtones.

>

> The shoes and dress are stuff Miyazaki wanted (think of it like a second birthday present to her) the bracelets are also something I’ve wanted to order for a while…

>

> I got everything delivered by drone today.

>

> I’ve also loaded up hair and makeup for you on the styliser, they’re ready to go.

>

> I hope you like all of it as much as I know I will! ;)

>

> Love

>

> Xonny ♡♡♡

>

> P.S. shower first! XD

I chuckle and put the note back down on the box.

I consider peeking inside but decide to follow Xon’s latter instruction and shower first… I’ll leave my presents as a surprise.

I walk to the shower and deliberate for a moment about weather to select a water or field shower…

I settle on field, I might not have time to dry off properly before she gets here.

I activate the shower field and select the preset-selection with my name on it (Xon has the field be a bit more aggressive on her hair, if I use her presets my hair goes extremely dry and woolly in a way that I don’t like).

I pull off my gym shorts, tank top and lycra underwear before walking through the mostly permeable barrier.

I can feel where the edge of the field is, only by where the layer of sweat, grease and grime (that it is not permeable to) passes over me.

Having passed through I step to the full length mirror and admire myself.

Yep… still the strongest, most muscular woman in the galaxy… freshly cleaned up, with odoriferous bacteria gone, and my skin and hair both with only as little natural oil as is necessary to keep them from drying out.

I flex my arms and give the mirror a wink, imagining Domming Mistress Miyazaki… no… ‘Emiko’… I really can’t call her ‘Mistress Miyazaki’ while she’s subbing, can I?

Maybe, as some kind of irony, I could?

Best not to… you’ll embarrass yourself if you can’t properly account for why you’re calling her ‘Mistress’, when challenged, and I don’t think ‘some kind of irony’ will cut it!

I go to the styliser and, without checking what she’s set for me, I activate it and pull it over my head.

The internal appendages, having established where my closed eyes and lips are, begin by printing Xon’s chosen makeup pattern onto my face and combing through the knots in my hair, applying leave-in conditioner as they do.

Then, they begin working two long plaits into the hair on the side of my head before flattening all of my hair to my scalp and tying the excess and plaits into a bun at the back of my head.

I return to the mirror and check my appearance… I look good! Maybe I should let Xon choose my hair and makeup all the time!

It suddenly hits me what I’m about to do and I get so overwhelmed that I vigorously flap my hands in front of myself, between me and the mirror, a rictus grimace of excitement on my face while hopping from foot to foot!

I stop very quickly as (it turns out) 166kg of Neanderthal, landing on a single foot, in a stimmy bounce, sounds like the footfall of a charging MAMMOTH, on this floor(!)

Right… time to see what’s in the box!

---Emiko’s perspective---

Imitating Thran and Xon’s habit of knocking rather than asking or waving to send an alert… I knock on Thran’s door.

My heart is in my throat as I wait for it to open…

Eventually, it cracks and slides open revealing an absolutely ravishing pair!

Xon in a flats+sleek trouser+sleeveless top combo, in jet black, with a boob window exposing half her chest, her silky black ringlets artfully coiffed into a style that suggests she might have just woken up this fabulous(!) Her lips are done up in black lipstick, matching her black eyeshadow… Her long, slim arms hang bare at her sides and she wears the most seductive smile I’ve ever seen.

Thran, though… she’s unrecognisable!!!

Her coarse, textured, orange hair is styled, for once!

It’s tied into a bun with plaits running the length of her head. Her hair being tied flat like that allows me to see her elongated, Neanderthal cranium.

Her eyes are done up in an elegant chocolate shade of eyeshadow, her lips are a tasteful shade of maroon and she has just the slightest hint of blush on her cheeks.

The olive tan skin of her shoulders is bare, above a dark brown leather dress holding up a boob ledge that a mountain climber could happily sleep on(!)

It’s enough to make me self conscious of the (comparatively embarrassing) performance of the pushup bra I’m wearing!

I told Xon I didn’t know how feasible a strapless dress would be with Thran’s… endowment!

The crazy bitch did it! She made it work!

At her wrists are… hold on… are those durasteel bracelets!? Could it be…? Are they really going to do what Xon mentioned they might…?

My stomach fills with butterflies as I imagine the possibilities!

Just below an elegant red rope belt are two slits in the dress, running all the way to the hem, through which protrude two ridiculously muscled thighs!

Her out fit is bottomed off by a pair of high heels in the same maroon as is on her lips.

I really was just spitballing when Xon asked if I had any ideas for outfits. She absolutely pulled through!

It’s things like that that are why I find her attractive when, really, as she said earlier, she should be too skinny for my tastes! She just has this unshakeable confidence… which is borne out by her competence!

At this point I become aware that I’ve just been awkwardly gawping at the two of them for the last few seconds.

I clear my throat and stammer “Y-y-y-you look, r-r-really good!”

Xon bursts into laughter “That was the reaction…*hahahahaha*… I was hoping for! …*hahahahaha*… Stunned silence, followed by stuttering! Worth…*hahahahaha*… every moment and every credit I spent!”

I smile, hoping she didn’t spend too much and wondering whether I should offer to cover the costs. (In one direction, I know both of their salaries and know that I’m much better off than them, in the other… not particularly subby… offering to pay for things…)

“Well, do you want to stand there all night or would you prefer to come inside?” smiles Xon with the same effortless grace and confidence that I affect professionally… as part of my ‘MILF aesthetic’(!)

I enter and notice the figure of Thran’s durasteel armour, plated in Lanatkser silver, blue and teal, on a mannequin, in the corner of the room, as I do.

I hold up the bottle in my right hand and the glasses in my left, saying “I brought champagne…” a little awkwardly.

“…And only two glasses…” says Xon with sly quizzicality, as she leans past me to hit the lock and privacy field switches.

I nod and smile “It would be… presumptuous of this subslut to assume she’s permitted to drink champagne in the same manner as her Mistresses… she will drink whatever you deign to give her, whenever you deign to give it, from whatever vessel or by whatever means you deign to permit her… Mistress.” sweetly.

There is a brief moment where both girls’ eyes widen in shock before Xon doubles over into another fit of hysterical laughter.

Even Thran joins in a little… is that the first time I’ve ever heard her laugh!?

I definitely think I’d remember that distinctive bassy chuckle! I think I’ve only ever caused her to nasally exhale in mirth, the entire time I’ve known her!

Eventually, Xon manages to recover enough to stand back up, fix me with a gleeful, devilish smile and say “What a wonderfully well trained slut you are, slut! I’ll have to remember to give kudos to your previous Masters and Mistresses… if I ever meet any, that is… I’m getting all sorts of ideas for fun ways to give you alcohol… Perhaps I could let you take a sip from my champagne flute, like a child?… Perhaps I could pour you out some into a dog bowl?… Maybe I could forcefeed it to you through a hollow ballgag!” with gleeful spite.

I try to avoid smiling at the thought of her doing any of those things.

She keeps eyecontact on me for a few seconds before saying “Thran… get the pole… this slut is going to dance for us while we drink her champagne.”

I frown “Wait! Hang on! That wasn’t the deal!… The deal was-Guh…”

*BOOM* is the sound of me hitting the wall behind me with the sensation of being hit in the chest by a swinging log trap!

Before I’ve resolved what’s happening, my throat is clamped and my feet are lifted from the ground. My geta make a wooden clatter as they fall off my feet, onto the floor.

When I’m once again aware of what’s happening I see that what’s holding me up is Thran’s arm!

I spend a few moments trying to process everything and find myself drawing up utterly blank!

Her beautifully made up face bears a light sneer as, without anger, in her usual monotone, only with higher intensity and a bit more emphasis on certain words, she says “Wrong, skank… The deal was that you get snu snued by two strapping cavewomen and, in return, we get your freedom and your beauty… Your freedom evaporated, as soon as you came into my room… Your arse belongs to us, right now… So, if we say you dance, you dance… I don’t care if you wanted us to undress you… if you want a reward, you have to earn it… Is that understood?”

I try to answer but only choke out a “Khhhhh!”

Bending down to bring her head level to Thran’s, Xon puts a hand on her shoulder and smirks “She can’t answer you with you crushing her windpipe like that, sweety.”

I feel her grip momentarily slacken and myself sliding a few centimetres down the wall before Xon says “I didn’t say stop… let the little slut enjoy you choking her for a little longer…”

This is not the first time I’ve been lifted by my throat but it is the first time it’s happened onehandedly (unless you count in full dive VR porn). I guess this is to be expected of Thran ‘Gimli’ Hunter!

Of course, you can’t hold a Human off the ground at arm’s length in free space. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, the Human your holding off the ground shifts your centre of mass out from over your base of support and you pitch forward until their feet are back on the ground. If you have the strength, the only ways for one full grown person to lift another, at arm's length, are to be so much, impossibly, heavier than them that they don’t shift your centre of mass enough to overbalance you (possible only in the pairings of Terrans and some gardenworlders) or to have a wall behind them to lean on for support!

The trapezius, deltoid and biceps muscles of her, exposed, left shoulder and arm are clearly taut with the strain of keeping me aloft but there’s no other sign that onehandedly lifting the full weight of an adult woman is any effort at all for her!

Reflexively, both my hands try to push hers off my throat by gripping her wrist and pulling it away but it has no noticeable effect!

I didn’t realise Thran had this in her! Both in terms of strength but… also… this seeming confidence… this initiative!

I assumed she’d be pretty passive and follow Xon’s lead… I mean… Xon must have told her that I would be into this… but still!

My vision is just beginning to turn blue, at the edges, when Xon says “Alright, that’s enough, let her down… Her face is the same red as her homeworld’s flag(!)” with a chuckle.

Thran releases me and my legs buckle as I hit the floor, gasping, coughing and spluttering. I choke down wheezing lungfuls of air and feel as the blood, that was building up in my face due to her hand acting as a tourniquet, drains back down to my body.

Xon gives a cruel laugh and says “Look at her! I’ll bet this bitch is soaking!” correctly, before stooping down and addressing me with effortless menace “Now… do you understand how this works? We’re not hear to entertain you… you’re here to entertain us… if you happen to enjoy yourself too, that’s just a happy accident… Now… are you going to dance for us while we drink your champagne… or not?”

I think about it.

If I refuse then I’ll get what I wanted… they’ll undress me, eventually… but they’ll be in the mood for punishment… If I poledance for them… then it will be me who takes off my clothes but… they’ll be looking at me… admiring me… and maybe, afterward… praising me…

“I’ll… I’ll dance for you, Mistress.” I say, defeatedly.

Xon grins and reaches out an elongated hand, pats my cheek and says “Good girl!” making my stomach do a backflip!

She looks at me, thoughtfully, before chuckling and adding “Honestly… I’m a little jealous… I’m too tall for her to do that to me when I sub… She can reach my throat but can’t reach quite far enough to get my feet off the ground… Not unless I bend my legs… which does sort of ruin the mood(!)”

I know Xon told me they’re both Switches (herself being recently converted by Thran) but… I literally cannot imagine either of these women ever subbing!

Well… I may not have to imagine it for much longer…

Xon pulls me to my feet and towards the centre of the room.

Thran has already gone to fetch the pole from her wardrobe.

I’m just wondering how they plan to secure it when I notice that, above the space where Thran’s heavybag usually hangs is a socket in the ceiling.

I look down and see an identical one on the floor.

Xon notices me noticing and grins “You should have seen Thran squirm as she explained to that Night Fury maintenancewoman what she needed with this one!” she says, gesturing to the floor socket “It was hysterical!... I’m convinced she knew what the pole and the floor socket were for! Knew they weren’t for working out… well… working out the traditional way, at least!”

Thran stands the 4.6m pole, into the floor socket, and then raises the other end, to slot it into the ceiling socket, which usually suspends her heavybag. It clicks into place.

I reach out to grasp the newly erected pole and receive a surprise!

“Is it meant to… spin, like that?”

Xon cocks an eyebrow “You’ve never been to a strip club?”

“I have… I’ve just never poledanced. I kind of assumed that the poles were… fixed…”

She smirks “If they were ‘fixed’, how would the dancers do things like…”

Pushing me out of the way, she mounts the pole, gripping it between her thighs and listing around it in a 360° arc that, now I see it, obviously wouldn’t be possible on a nonswivelling pole. It would have to be so frictionless that it would be impossible to grip!

“…this?” she asks with smug satisfaction.

“I… suppose they couldn’t.” I admit with embarrassment “I’ve never poledanced before… Please don’t be disappointed by the quality of my dancing, Mistress…”

Xon's eyes flash and she calmly bends to bring her face next to mine. She puts a hand at the back of my neck and almost whispers “Then don’t dance disappointingly… Also, as of right now… you have two Mistresses… don’t address only one of us… Are we clear?” in an ominous tone.

I shudder, an electric tingle passing through my stomach, as I answer “Yes, Mistress…es.”

She fixes me with her piercing gaze for a few moments more before saying “…Good!”, standing and walking to sit in one of Thran’s armchairs, Thran herself sitting in an adjacent one.

The tall and elegant woman takes out her holo and says “Holo, play playlist ‘Sexytimes; Number…” she hesitates a moment, considering “…03’ over the rooms speakers… On shuffle, please.”

A percussive rhythm begins to play with the sensual breaths of a woman, being used almost as an instrument.

The slender woman with all the confidence in the world waves a hand for me to get on with it and I hesitate only a second longer before I start dancing.

The lyrics to the song kick in:

p♫Susie needs a ride

She's way too drunk to drive

But, oh, she’s such a sight to see

Marshall is the problem

She's been trying to solve him

Someone needs to set her free♫p

I’ve… never really danced before… whatever kind of physique I have(!)

Hrom, Khel and the other two lovers I’ve had, since her, were all… a bit more… direct than this… I don’t think any of them would have thought of making me dance for them. If they wanted me they would simply have… taken me!

I don’t hate this, though… Being ogled as I do my utmost to swing my hips the way I’ve seen female strippers do. It’s… exciting!

It makes me feel… desirable…

Of the two of them, Thran is usually the one who botches eyecontact… either avoiding it altogether or, disconcertingly, staring at you straight on, without blinking!

Right now, however, Thran is looking at me the way I would expect someone to look at a (currently still fully clothed) erotic dancer. She’s giving me her attention but periodically looking briefly at Xon… or glancing at something else.

Xon, on the other hand, is fixing me with the unbroken, unflinching stare of a panther observing a faun from a bush or a soldier about to spring an ambush on an unsuspecting enemy. It’s both unnerving… and exhilarating!

Thran, at this point, seems to realise that if one of them doesn’t open the champagne now then the one that eventually does will have to miss some of either the stripping or subsequent nudity, so picks up the bottle and shreds off the foil.

She nestles the bottom of the bottle into the crook of her lap and, covering the cork with her right thumb, unwinds the wire tab with her left until the cage is off. Here she stops, seeming to be sizing up what to do next.

Hang on… is this the first time she’s ever opened a bottle of champagne?! She looked so deft, until now!

She seems to decide on a twisting and tilting motion which causes the cork to *POFF* into her hand rather than across the room, toward me.

Thran pours out one flute’s worth of champagne, setting it to her left, then offers the bottle to Xon who, without breaking her fixed gaze on my rolling hips even a little, pivots her empty flute hand, like an ancient Queen, expecting Thran to wait on her!

Thran hesitates a moment before filling the crystal with sparkling wine… I can definitely guess who the Top Bitch is, tonight…! Unless this is an elaborate double bluff?

Still not removing her eyes from me, Xon brings the, now filled, glass to her lips and drinks from it.

Now that I have both of their attention I bring my hands to the waistband of my long skirt and undo the catch.

Working the now loosened garment over my hips, I turn to expose my arse to my two Mistresses, before dropping it to the floor.

---Xon’s perspective---

I see the exquisite arse, now covered only by a red thong, black garterbelt and suspenders… This slut knows how to dress to impress!

She grips the pole and dips her torso in a way that makes that sumptuous bubblebutt… pop!

She obviously wasn’t lying about never having poledanced before but… well… watching a sub trying to be sexy while removing clothing to music is enough to get me going… I just hope she’s not stupid enough to hurt herself with over ambitious techniques on that pole!… Though, I can’t imagine she’d have survive the entire War (let alone surrendered an entire planet) with so little sense!

She begins unbuttoning her shirt… from the bottom… interesting…

She reveals a red bra, matching her thong in colour… The bra is the same one we saw through her chemise, yesterday. The thong is not the same as yesterday but is a style and colour match that she volunteered when I requested she wear the same lingerie, again.

She teasingly slides her shirt over her shoulders and drops it to the ground.

“Slut…” I say, in a raised but level voice.

The slut turns, quizzically and answers “Yes, Mistress…es?”

“Keep dancing in your lingerie like that for a little while… you’re quite a pretty sight, right now, and we’d like to savour you.”

“Yes, Mistresses.” she answers, returning to her dancing.

From Thran’s bodylanguage it’s clear that ‘we’ don’t exactly agree but she says nothing.

Some time passes, as the song changes a few times, and Thran and I sip Emiko’s champagne, her dancing on the pole for our entertainment.

Despite being mostly nude and the room being set to such a cool temperature, the slut is beginning to get sweaty from the exertion.

I get a wicked idea.

I pause the playlist and say “Slut… I think one of your Mistresses has a lap in want of a lapdance…” gesturing to the lap of a, taken aback, Thran.

Emiko takes it in stride and immediately makes her way over to Thran’s seat.

Without speaking a word and as quickly as I can, I clear the playlist and ask my holo to find all known songs by the FlYing FoXes, rank them by sexiness and play the sexiest 10% on shuffle. Obviously something as subjective as ‘sexiness’ can’t be objectively calculated but my holo has my playlists to compare to for what I think a sexy song sounds like, at least.

There’s an agonising 2.4 seconds of waiting for my holo to acquire the entire backcatalogue and analyse it for ‘sexiness’… then the music starts playing and she and I simultaneously look at eachother.

---Thran’s perspective---

The moment the music started again, Emiko whipped her head to Xon who had looked up… for her reaction?

This music must have some meaning that Xon didn’t divulge to me… Could it be? Is this… some sort of signal?

I tremble as I imagine the two women ganging up to attempt to subbify me!

If they do, should I let them?

Obviously, by having me wear locking, durasteel cuffs as bracelets, Xon means to at least leave the option open…

Then I realise that that won’t be it… it would be irresponsible to lie that Emiko was a sub if she was actually a Switch. Xon wouldn’t lie about that.

The song must have some other meaning…

At this point Emiko plants her perfectly round, pale, flawless arse into my lap and all thoughts of anything else are driven from my mind.

The (preWar sounding) song plays as I watch the slim, toned Sapiens woman dance and sway, erotically, on my lap.

“Slut… I think your Mistress would like a kiss… why don’t you turn around and oblige her?… First, though, why don’t you take off that bra… show us those perky tits!” smirks Xon.

I see Emiko’s hands reach behind her back and under her loose black hair, with its streak of silver, and release the clasp of her bra.

She pauses for a moment and then swivels around to aim her chest, now covered only by a loose scrap of cloth, at me.

With an extremely sexual bite of her lip she shrugs off her bra revealing her breasts…

As Xon said, they’re perky… their not very large but they’re really pretty.

She places her hands on my bare shoulders and pulls her lips to mine for a erotic kiss. Her hips still rolling into my crotch, her chest still swaying against mine.

“Thran… why don’t you take off the little slut’s stockings…?” I hear Xon’s voice say, though I’m unable to see her, having the cute Sapiens’ upper face obscuring my vision.

I reach for her legs and begin fumbling for the suspender clips.

It’s a little awkward, while she’s still passionately kissing me, but I manage to unclip them and Emiko then shifts her weight to allow me to slide off her right stocking, then her left.

I feel the bare skin of her thighs against mine through the slits in my dress.

I put my hands on her bare back and squeeze her close to me… I try to be gentle but she frowns and makes a grunt that I’m taking to mean that I’m squeezing too hard, so I slacken off.

I slide my hands down, past her garterbelt, to give that gorgeous arse of hers a squeeze.

This thrill is incomparable… she’s the first client I’ve ever wanted to fuck this badly… my girlfriend is watching her kiss me from feet away… bliss!

Then Emiko’s lips are ripped away from mine, causing her to gasp.

I now see Xon, looking slightly unhinged, over her shoulder.

It looks like she’s pulling Emiko’s hair.

My breath hitches as I see the four purple eyes, of the two dazzling women, aligned in a row.

“I think, bitch… that it’s my turn!” says Xon, a little manically.

It’s not clear to me who the ‘bitch’ is meant to be. Emiko is the one she drags away but… she was looking at me when she said it…

---Emiko’s perspective---

Thran was like an aurochs to lapdance for, strong… but placid.

She slackened off when she realised she was crushing my ribcage, she let me kiss her more than she kissed me back and reciprocated the kissing just the right amount.

Xon, on the other hand, is a jaguar!

Her teeth are bared in a grimace that could be glee or wrath (most likely both!)

Her hands roam where they please and she actively seems to take glee in my squeaks of pain.

Obviously, more of a sadist than her girlfriend.

I can’t believe the stunt she pulled, using what I told her about my teenaged fantasies like that! It’s really thrown me off!

Out of nowhere, my wrists are seized, my arms pulled straight and folded behind my back.

“Thran… sweetheart…” simpers Xon “…Would you be a dear and tie up the little slut’s hands?”

No answer comes but the thudding of approaching feet.

Rope (produced from somewhere) is wound around my wrists and then up my forearms, all the way to my elbows.

“Thank you, baby…” says Xon, with zero sincerity “…Now… please fetch a few more coils of rope, an anal hook, a hollow ballgag, a bottle of vodka, the mechanical winch and… my cock… and leave all of it on the table, if you would.”

Only the sound of receding footfalls answers.

A second passes before the Queen, whose lap I currently straddle, turns her attention back to me and says “Who the fuck said you could stop dancing, slut?” with delighted venom at getting to scold me.

I take a shuddering breath as I start attempting to resume my lapdance.

With my hands restrained it’s… not really possible to move in a way that doesn’t feel like it would be awkward to watch. A supposition that is confirmed by Xon sneering “Pathetic!!!”

“I’m sorry, Mistress, it’s difficult to-uhhhhhh…!” I try to defend myself but she stuffs a ballgag, produced from behind me, into my mouth.

“I don’t want to hear your fucking excuses, slut! Stand up and turn around!!!”

I do as instructed.

Thran is standing across the table, still looking stunning.

Addressing Thran, Xon smirks “Thanks for fetching all that for me, babes… but… I think I’m done allowing you to be a Domme, right now… Take off that dress!”

Thran’s stance hardens and her muscles go taut as she says “And how are you going to make me?”

“Oh… you mean you don’t want to be a good girl for me?” Xon asks, with a mocking pout, pulling me toward her and pressing a few square centimetres of metal into the bottom of my chin “Then… I guess you get to become the galaxy’s EXfinest bodyguard(!)” she says, with manic glee.

My eyes widen as I realise what’s being threatened.

Obviously, she OKed gunplay with me in the negotiation as well as reassuring me that she would only use a replica, if she decided to include it at all, but I was still not expecting that!

That gun materialised from right the fuck out of nowhere! She cannot have had it on her person, can she?!

She must have stashed it in the armchair… unless…? Could she have hidden it in her bra? Reached for it through the boobwindow? Seems unlikely…

Thran scowls and seems to be running some furious calculations.

“Bitch, that dress had better be on the floor in the next 30 seconds or, I swear, I’ll do it! I’ll ruin your spotless record!” shouts Xon, driving the barrel upward into my soft flesh.

“Fwan, preez! Zhuss goo uhz he hays!” I plead, through my gag.

Reluctantly, Thran reaches to her armpit and pulls a zip, releasing the tension in her dark brown, leather dress and allowing it to drop to the floor, revealing a pair of enormous, bare tits and the most muscular stomach that exists… fucking jigoku!

The only garment she’s wearing is a pair of red panties, the same shade as mine.

“Yeeeeees, bitch! Show me everything!” says Xon, clearly relishing the newfound quadrupling of subslut she possesses.

Thran pouts but complies, dropping her visibly wet panties.

I’m slightly surprised by the fact that she keeps herself bald… I kind of expected that the carpet would match the curtains(!)

“Alright… go to the bed…” smiles Xon.

The naked woman scowls but does as she’s told. Xon stands still, still holding the ‘gun’ to my throat.

Thran is about to climb onto the bed when Xon says “Ah, ah, ah! Look underneath! There should be a box… take it out and tell me what you see…”

Thran bends down, pulls out the box, looks inside and says “Three thin durasteel chains, three durasteel padlocks, a spreader bar, a vibe wand, a length of rope and an… unconventionally shaped ballgag…” in her flat monotone.

“Perfect!” expresses Xon “Now, put everything on the bed… including yourself.”

Thran obeys.

“OK, first, tie the wand to your stomach, bulb against your clit…”

Thran snarls but after a moment’s pause, follows the instruction.

“Excellent…” grins Xon “…next, lock your ankles into those cuffs on the spreader, loop one of those chains through that ring (halfway along its length) and the footboard and lock it with one of the padlocks, then I want you to undo your hair, gag yourself and then loop one of the, remaining, chains through one of those lovely bracelets I got you and lock it into place.”

She does so, securing her legs, releasing her braids and bun, clogging her mouth with the oddly shaped ballgag, fastening her right hand to the headboard and leaving only her left hand free (though she’s not capable of escaping the bed without Xon’s help, at this point.

Xon releases me then pushes me back down, into the armchair we both just got up from.

“Do not move!” she orders.

I nod.

She tosses the gun onto the table (drawing my attention to the gargantuan cyber that Thran left there) and goes to the bed.

She secures Thran’s left arm to the headboard, kisses her forehead and activates the wand.

Thran moans, closes her eyes and throws her head back against the pillow.

“Enjoy the show, bitch!” Xon says quietly, to the bedbound woman, before getting up and making her way to the pole in the centre of the room.

“First off…” she says, turning between us, to indicate that whatever she’s about to say will apply to both of us “…this is how you strip sexy!” activating a much more intense, faster tempo song than she gave me, swinging around the pole and dancing (as she says) more sexily than I was…

As she starts the process of shedding clothing she continues, addressing me “Second… I really don’t know if I can let you go… your arse, tits, thighs, face… they’re all just too… yummy! I think, after tonight, you get to hang in our wardrobe… a toy ready for use… If Thran doesn’t like it, she can hang in there too! Or… perhaps I’ll make living chandeliers of the two of you!... Though, it might be a little more difficult to protest that I don’t know anything about your sudden disappearance, that way! ‘No… no idea where the two of them went! What’s that? Thran’s room? Oh, don’t check in there!’(!)” with a mirthful smirk.

Her last thread shed, she walks to the table and picks up the titanic cyber, placing the butt end against her clitoris and activating it.

Her body is wracked by nervejack shudders.

She looks down, between her respectable boobs, to the accessory now protruding from her crotch, smiles and says “There… a big, strong futanari, for you, slut! Aren’t you lucky!?” clearly not expecting an answer.

She approaches me, pushes me into the chair and says “Before I give you this cock, though, slut… I want to see how you look as a chandelier… perhaps have a little… taste of you…” flicking out her startlingly long tongue “…but first…” she picks up the bottle of vodka, left by Thran, cracks the perforated tamperproofing, unscrewing the cap, and says “…you have a little catching up to do! You were so thoughtful as to bring us champagne… let me return the favour(!)”

With that, she places the lip of the bottle against my ballgag and turns it up.

My mouth fills with vodka!

I try to close my throat to avoid swallowing too much but, unavoidably, a lot makes it through.

It burns my throat as it goes down! Vodka is definitely not meant to be drunk this way!

She withdraws the bottle and says “Oh, no(!) You spilled most of it(!) What's the matter, slut, Is it not up to your standards(?)” with elated malice

“…too bad…” she pouts before pouring another mouthful through the gag.

After I'm done coughing and choking, she flips me over to face down, into the chair cushions.

My ankles are tied to my wrists and my hair is tied to… something.

A few more moments of her adjusting things… then, my head is yanked back by my hair and I feel my thong being pushed aside and something metal being pressed against my anus…

My Mistress whispers “Enjoy… slut!” into my ear, then the metal thing is rammed home.

---Xon’s perspective---

The slut screams as I hook her arse.

This is ecstasy!

This slim, tight, dense, muscular, Sapiens woman, trussed up on the floor, sobbing through her gag… such spectacular music!

I have a brief giggle to myself as I imagine three Heidelbergenses, sitting around a fire in the African rift valley, the night before their respective tribes part ways, for the last time. One a little bit taller and slimmer, one a little stronger and stockier with one having the vaguest suggestion of a, Sapiensoid, chin spur. My ancestor gets a faraway look in her eye, points to the other two and says 'My ×24,000 greats granddaughter is going to hogtie your ×32,000 greats granddaughter and hook her arse, while your ×30,000 greats granddaughter watches from a bed where she's bound with ropes made of unbreakable rock…' the other two just raise their eyebrows before one says 'Girl… what have you been eating and/or drinking and/or smoking?… and is there any left?'

Refocusing on the scene in front of me, I say “Gravity: 0.25 Galactic Standard.” authoritatively, followed by my mass of 82kg dropping to a weight of a little under 10kgf.

I pick up the slut by the knot between her wrists and ankles.

She may weigh very little in the low gravity but, as I do as well, I need to carry her close to my body so that she doesn’t overbalance me. Her mass, also, has the exact same inertia so she’s not as easy to manipulate as you’d think if you’d only ever been exposed to planetary gravity.

I carry her over to the stripper pole, snagging the winch off the table as I go.

I intentionally swing my hips to cause my cyber to slap against my thighs.

I place her down on the ground and pause, momentarily, to appreciate the way her tits barely squash in contact with the floor, in the low gravity.

I drop the winch on the floor beside the slut and bend to unslot the bottom of the stripper pole from the floor.

That done, I leap the +2m to bring me to the top of the room, bracing myself against the ceiling, with my hands, to keep from hitting my head.

I quickly press the release, on the top of the pole, before the very weak gravity starts to take me back down.

The pole now free, I pick it up and place it on the ground against the wall, where it’s out of the way.

I return to the centre of the room, pick up the winch and, with a second jump ceilingward, plug it into the socket that the pole just came out of.

It clicks into place with a *kerchunk*

“Winch: Down. Gravity: Earth Standard.” I say, watching Thran’s mammoth tits for what they look like under a sudden octupling of the gravity… Satisfying… They look satisfying.

As the winch reaches far enough that I have the slack to bring it to Emiko, I say “Winch: Stop.”

I test the rope by yanking on it then by suspending my weight from it.

Satisfied that it’s secure and won’t pull itself out of the socket, dropping Emiko and, then, itself onto her, I take the large carabiner and clip it around the rope between her wrists and ankles.

“Winch: Up.” I say, positioning myself so that she is between me and Thran on the bed.

As the whimpering slut rises, I twist the rope so she comes to face toward Thran, with her rear facing me.

I think about stopping it when she reaches 120cm off the ground… but I let it keep going…

As her pussy draws level with my face, I say “Winch: Stop.” and her movement stops.

I push her knees apart and bring my face to her soaking panties.

With my little finger I hook through them and pull them aside.

“My compliments, slut(!)” I chortle “You have a pretty little cunt! Nice, well groomed bikini line… tidy lips… lovely aroma…” affecting the demeanour of a sommelière.

“Mmmhph!” she protests.

I plunge my tongue inside her.

---Thran’s perspective---

I can see Emiko's face, looking at me, from beyond the foot of the bed, 2m up in the air, gagged, moaning and squirming, as Xon’s tongue probes 12cm inside her, presumably twisting, coiling and…undulating in a way that, I know from experience, quickly breaks a woman’s sanity.

The combination of the ‘show’ and the wand between my pussylips are on the cusp of giving me my second orgasm of the night when Emiko convulses, her eyes crossed, her lungs screamed empty.

Xon pulls her tongue from her pussy and comes to Emiko’s side, before twisting her so that they’re facing eachother and in profile from my perspective.

Xon undoes the poor, little, mindbroken subslut’s ballgag, dropping it to the floor before seizing her jaw, forcing her mouth open with one hand.

The two women stare into eachother’s eyes a moment before Xon spits in Emiko’s mouth and laughs “Hope you like the taste slut!” viciously.

Swivelling the bound woman back to face me the Domme of Dommes shouts “Gravity: 0.1 Galactic Standard”

I immediately feel my weight reduce so much that it feels like I might float off the bed… well, I would if I weren’t chained here with expensive accessories that she’s clearly bought just because I keep breaking the regular restraints(!)

Xon unclips the winch and heaves to overcome Emiko’s inertia, pushing her through the air toward me (while also pushing herself backward, in accordance with Newton's Third Law).

Emiko floats toward me and lands, gently, on the bed next to me.

Once she’s confident no one (least of all herself) will get hurt, Xon restores the gravity and strides to the bed.

She undoes the binding of Emiko’s feet, taking the rope, and then says “Get your clit on that vibebulb, slut!”

“Yes…*huh*… Mistress.” responds Emiko, breathlessly.

Doing her best, her hands still tied behind her, Emiko manages to straddle me, then lie flat on top of me her face just above mine, her slim, naked chest against mine, letting me feel her weight, in Earth gravity, her hips squashing the wand into my pussy.

Xon pushes her feet apart and begins lashing my ankles to her shins.

As she does, Emiko makes the most of her ungagged mouth, kissing my face, senselessly.

I hear a loud smack, paired with Emiko gasping loudly.

“Who the fuck told you you were allowed to kiss my bitch, slut!?” demands Xon.

“No… one… Mistress… I’m… sorry…” replies Emiko who looks like she’s having trouble thinking coherently.

“Don’t be ‘sorry’, slut! Be BETTER!” says Xon, reaching for the hair at the top of my head with her right hand, tilting my head forward and rooting to undo the straps on this weird ballgag she has me wearing.

Presumably, she’s going to gag Emiko with it, now.

When I see the straps loose in her hands, I try to push the gag out of my mouth with my tongue… but find it still strapped there… confusingly.

Xon grabs Emiko by the hair and says “Mouth on that double ballgag, slut!” clearing up the mystery of why this gag had such an odd, 3D figure 8, shape.

Emiko puts her mouth on the gag and Xon fastens her head in place.

Her lips are pressed against mine, her nose is squashed by mine, the vibration of her pathetic moans transmitted into my mouth, through the gag, her purple eyes forced to stare directly into mine, taking up my entire field of vision.

“Now…” says Xon, scooting herself between our thighs “…Which of you two whores wants my cock first?”

Both my and Emiko’s eyes widen.

“Oh, ho…(!) From the way you started moving, it looks like both of you want me inside you(!)… unfortunately… I only have one cock! So…”

Touching the tip of her cock to my pussy and not on alternate beats, she rhymes “Eenie… Meenie… Miney… Mo… I wonder where my cock should go…”

---Xon’s perspective, the next morning---

It’s early.

I walk into the Commonroom in the quiet halflight of the time just before the nocturnal turns to diurnal.

I head towards the kitchen.

At this point, Twila shimmers into being on a countertop, coupled with the lights turning on, causing me to jump out of my skin!

“Oh, hey!” she says with a smug smile “I took the liberty of preparing you a triple helping of pancakes… they’re in the stasisfridge…”

I stare at the impish little AI, a few moments, calculating.

“You can’t tell anyone!” I state.

“Did I say anything? Anything at all about any snu snu sessions that may or may not have happened between when Emiko went into Thran's room, last night, and when you came out of it, just now?!” she says, throwing up her hands in mock defensiveness but clearly still enjoying the hell out of the situation.

“Twila…” I say, with a hard edge in my voice.

“Alright… alright…” she says, her tone more genuine now “…my lips are sealed… now… take your pancakes.”