by E J Frost
“What’s Swift Wings?” I ask.
“The old Swift Wings floater factory. It
blew up about ten years ago. No one knows
what they were doing. Something with
chlorine azide, I’ve heard. Carved a twenty-
meter hole into the side of the mountain.
Kuus City tried to develop it, ‘cause it’s
close to the mines, but it’s unstable. There’s
an entrance to the Deeps at the bottom, but
it’s a long drop down. We’ll need to
rappel.”
“Can we land the Marie at the bottom?”
Kez lifts her head in surprise, tilts it to
the side as she considers, then tosses the
helmet back into the box. “Why didn’t I think
of that?”
“’Cause you’re thinkin’ like a runner.
Don’t worry, a couple of weeks on the
Marie an’ you’ll be thinkin’ like a pilot.”
Her mouth twists and she looks away.
That was not a happy look. “Kezra,” I say
softly. Her eyes snap to me. “What’re you
thinkin’?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. It doesn’t
matter.”
“I told you, you don’t get to keep any
secrets from me.”
She puts her hands on her hips. Trying to
be tough. But she doesn’t quite manage it.
Her head is down; she won’t meet my eyes.
And I can see the tremor in her shoulders.
“After tomorrow I’m not going to be good
for anything other than being your co-pilot.
He’s going to cripple me, isn’t he?”
That would be my guess. But there are a
lot of other options. Any of which would
destroy some of her beauty. “That would fall
into the category of breakin’ you. Thought we
agreed he doesn’t get to do that.”
She lets out a long, shaky breath. “Hale
. . .”
“No, lemme make sure we’re clear. He
doesn’t get to break you. Are we clear?”
She nods firmly. “Yes, we’re clear.”
“Good. Now you can stop worryin’ about
it. Finish your packin’. We got places to go.”
“We do?” She tilts her head. “Where?
Food’s not landing until dawn.”
True. And Doc Gray’s agreed to
postpone his house-call until sunset
tomorrow. Which has freed-up our evening
nicely. I want to cook dinner for her, which
means we need groceries. “We need to do
some shopping.” And there are some things I
need for dessert. Like lubricant.
She rolls her eyes. “You love keeping me
in the dark, don’t you?”
“Don’t want you gettin’ bored, kitten.”
Actually, I’m just not used to sharing my
plans with anyone.
“There is no chance of that.” Kez tosses
more clothes into the bag, then seals it shut.
“If we can just land your ship in the Sink,
then I’m all set. I don’t need anything else.”
“Then say your good-byes.” I give
Ronnie a final pat before I climb off the bed
and pick up Kez’s bag.
I pick a market on the edge of the Delta.
Not just because it’s far away from my
place, so there’s less chance of being tailed
back, but also because it’s just a short walk
from the Delta’s sex-shops. So while Kez
decides on breakfast, I pick out what I need
to make her a hot and sour. When a matcha
pan, a container of mixed awril and seaberry
and two bulbs of kopi susu make their way
into the pouch of the tote-bot trailing us, I
have to smile. My kitten and her sweet tooth.
I throw in a packet of smoked auro meat,
since I like a little protein with my sucrose,
and slot an octagon into the ‘bot to pay for
the groceries. It follows us out to my trike
and secretes a neat bundle into the seat
storage compartment when I hold it open. I
lock the trike back down and wait until the
‘bot returns to the market before holding my
hand out to Kez.
She takes it and draws close. “I was
going to pay for those.” She holds up a
brightly patterned credit wand between two
fingers.
I shrug. “You paid for the bugs.”
“True.” She rests her head against my
shoulder and looks up at me. “I haven’t paid
you for the run yet.”
“You’ll get around to it,” I say easily.
“You trust me?”
I slide my arm around her and lead her
into the Delta. “No, you can’t add. But Gig’s
a good kid. He won’t stiff me.”
She elbows me in the ribs. Chuckling, I
lead her down the walkway and into the first
sex-shop we come to.
I’m not a patron of the Delta’s sex-shops.
If I’m paying for an hour of relief, I figure the
price should be all-inclusive. So I don’t
know anything about the shop we head into.
They all look the same to me.
I quickly realize my error. The holos,
clothes and toys on display make it clear that
this store caters to an all-male clientele. Kez
begins giggling as she inspects a collection
of prosthetics than have to be for show. No
human body could accommodate anything
that big. Not in any opening. She runs a
curious forefinger between the spikes on one
dong as thick as my thigh. I drag her out
before she finds something to replace me.
Three stores down the alley and we’ve
seen all the paraphernalia the neo-vampire
could desire for safe blood-play, six
different kinds of hook-ups to the universal
virtual-sex loop, and a place that seems to be
more of a pet-store than a sex-shop, until I
realize all the straps, harnesses and jeweled
accouterments are for fucking Anryn, one of
Kuseros’s species of large, predatory
lizards, which I’m pretty sure is illegal in
any system except the Vespers. Kez is
laughing so hard by the time we leave the
last shop she can barely walk. I drag her
back to the first shop, despite the potential
competition. Surely with equipment that
large, they’ll sell lube.
They do. In bewildering variety.
Although I’ve only slept with four other
women, between slam and S.A.W.L., I’ve
paid for plenty of sex. I thought my
experience was fairly broad. But I cannot
imagine the possible uses for saltpeter lube.
Or the appeal of chemfire lube. Fortunately,
a ‘bot appears and helps me sort through the
array. While I’m considering possibilities,
giggling behind me announces that Kez has
returned to her examination of the huge
studded dong.
“You’re gonna want somethin’ smaller
than that, kitten.”
She sidles up behind me, puts her arms
around my waist and whispers in my ear. “I
don’t want anything but you.”
I select three b
ulbs of lube and hand them
to the ‘bot. “Actually, you do.” I turn to
examine the possibilities. I’d planned to use
the lube myself, but faced with a truly
massive – in every sense – selection of
alternatives, I change my plans. “Pick one
that’s no bigger than your two fingers
together.”
Kez lifts an eyebrow. “Whyyyyy?”
I give her a tap on the ass. “Do as you’re
told. No bigger than your two fingers. You
might like one that moves.” There’s a fairly
wide selection of those, too. From basic
buzzy sticks to a four-D cavitating gel model,
which just looks uncomfortable to me. But
it’s not my ass it’s going in, so I leave Kez to
make her choice, while I wander through the
holos of naked blue, purple and silver-
skinned men, to a corner of the shop where a
small assortment of equipment has caught my
eye.
This isn’t a bondage shop – and I’m too
wary of what we might find in the other
shops to go looking for one – so the selection
is limited. When there’s more time, I’ll make
a few toys of my own. But for now, for
tonight, a paddle or two might come in
handy, and there are quite a few of those to
choose from. I pick a basic wide paddle and
take it to the ‘bot.
Kez turns bright pink when she sees my
purchases. Mutely, she slots her credit wand
into the ‘bot. She blushes all the way back to
my trike.
Chapter 30
We eat on the deck. In my hammock. Hot
and sour is finger-food the way I make it.
Crispy chunks of meat to dunk into the sauce.
A big bowl of sticky pink rice and a pile of
crunchy callfass leaves to roll it all up in.
Bulbs of klee tea to wash it down. No booze
tonight; we need to be sober for the run
tomorrow. And I want to be completely
focused when we get to dessert.
I spoon behind Kez on the hammock with
the tray of food in front of us. I’ve thrown a
thermoblanket over our legs to keep us warm
in the cool evening. The hammock’s drawn
taut on its hoverropes, so we don’t end up in
a messy pile with the food. We get gloriously
sticky anyway, particularly after I start hand-
feeding my kitten.
I’m prepared for sticky. When we start
doing more kissing than chewing, I shift the
tray of food under the hammock and open my
bag of tricks. It’s not quite as impressive as
Kez’s backpack, but I’ve loaded it with
wipes and towels – since I’m planning on
plenty of stickiness tonight – as well as our
purchases from the sex-shop. I pull out a
handful of wipes and clean our hands and
faces. When I finish Kez’s sticky little paws,
she tucks them behind her head, stretches and
smiles up into the deepening sky. “This is
really nice.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad.” I’ve always enjoyed
the deck. But having Kez here brings my
enjoyment to a whole new level. “Where do
you go to relax, kitten?”
I expect her to say the club she’s
mentioned before, but she surprises me. The
way my kitten often does.
“Up on our roof. I took up a couple of the
thermal panels and made a space up there
where I can spin poi or meditate, whatever.”
“Spin poi?”
“What we did on the beach.”
The fire-balls. I finish wiping my hands
and stretch out next to her. “That was almost
better than sex.”
“Wait, do that hand again.” Kez tips her
chin at my left hand. That is the hand I was
using to hold the hot peppers that went into
our dinner. And I made sure to rub the
fingers of that hand across her lips while we
were kissing before we made it to the
hammock. With a grin, I give it another wipe,
then lick my thumb to show that I’ve gotten
off all the capsicum. She nods and smiles up
into the sky. “Well, if you liked it that much,
we could head back to my place for a while.
I usually spin for an hour before bed.”
“Dream on.” The only thing she’s doing
before bed tonight is fucking. Lots of fucking.
And maybe a little sunset-watching. I trace
the curve of her forehead, nose, and lips. She
looks up at me while I touch her. Eyes
gleaming. “Hey, kitten.”
“Hey.”
“You in any hurry?” If she is, I’ll take
care of her first. If she’s not, well, there are
a few things I want to try before we get down
to the nitty-gritty.
She shakes her head, rubbing her lips
against my fingertip. “Can anyone hear us?”
“Doubt it.” There are other houses along
the river, but none of them are particularly
close. Yet another reason I chose this place.
“Ain’t you more worried about anyone
seein’ us?”
“Nope.” She grins, her full mischievous
grin. Such a fucking turn-on. “I just want to
be able to call you by your real name.” She
pauses for a moment before saying it. “Hale.
Hale Hale Hale.” She rolls it around on her
tongue like she’s tasting it.
I like the way she says my name. I’ve
never felt one way or another about my name
– it was just something people called me –
but now that I’ve lost it, and reclaimed it
again, it’s started to matter to me. “Sounds
good when you say it, kitten.”
“I like saying it.” She wriggles down into
the hammock, looking just far too pleased
with herself. “I’ve never heard it before.
Halemano. What does it mean?”
“Dunno. It’s from old Earth. That’s
where my father’s family was from.” I shrug.
“What I do know is what I get when you call
me that.”
She shifts in the hammock so she can run
her bare foot up the back of my leg. “You get
something in return.”
“That’s right.”
She rolls to her side so we’re facing each
other; looks up into my eyes. Her pupils have
dilated so wide her eyes look solidly black.
Huge, kitten eyes. “Name it. Anything.”
“Anything?” I ask slowly.
“Anything.” She runs her fingertips down
between my pecs. “Anything you want to do
. . . anything you want to try, I’ll do it.”
I lean in and kiss her. No woman – no
one – has ever trusted me like my kitten
does. “Roll over for me.” I drop my hand
over the side of the hammock, find the bag
and pull out the waist tie for my robe.
She rolls. Languorously. Stretching like
the kitten she is. I catch her right wrist as she
turns. Loop the tie around it, thread the tie
through the hoverropes, and when she settles
onto her front, knot the free end around her
left wrist. I pull up the slack and tie a slip-
knot, so her arms are held taut above her
head but I can release them easily whenever
I want.
“Now, since you’re not worried about
bein’ seen, I think we should show off that
very fine ass of yours.” I flip the blanket
back, reach down and run my hand up her leg
from calf to thigh, rucking up the soft fabric
of the dress she put on before dinner against
my wrist. When I reach the top of her thigh, I
push the material up to her waist, baring her
smooth, pale ass to the air. No undies.
Naughty kitten. As I’m contemplating
suitable punishment for her lack of
underwear, she makes a muffled noise. I lift
my eyes from that captivating view to check
that she’s okay. She’s buried her face in the
hammock, but I can see the flush spreading
across the back of her neck. I chuckle, and
the pink of her neck darkens to crimson.
“I doubt anyone’s truly watchin’, kitten,”
I say to reassure her. “But if they are, let’s
give ‘em a show.” I rub my hands over her
ass. Feather my fingers across her pillow-
soft skin. Her ass is covered with the lightest
down, like perfectly ripe fruit. I bend over
that sweet, sweet ass and set my teeth in it.
Hard enough to make her yelp. Hard enough
to leave an impression. I rub my palm over
the mark and admire it for a moment before I
reach into my bag again and bring out the
toys.
I introduce the paddle, rubbing it over
each cheek. While I’m prepping her for the
blow, I ask, “Anyone ever spank you before,
kitten?”
Her response is so muffled in the
hammock I can’t hear it. I reach out, gently
cup the back of her neck and roll her head to
the side. “Try that again.”
“No,” she says. It’s almost a whimper.
Her voice wasn’t that muffled in the
hammock. She’s just having trouble talking.
Anticipation is half the fun. “But I saw . . . I
watched it once.”
“Tell me,” I say to distract her. I wait
until her rib cage rises, drawing breath to
speak, then I bring the paddle down hard on
her ass.
She shrieks and jolts, rising off the
hammock. The restraints on her wrists hold
her in place. She pulls against them for a
moment, resisting the pain, coming up onto
her knees. Then she slumps into the
hammock, gasping.
I rub my hand over the brilliant pink mark
