by DC Bastien
"If you keep that up, I'm..."
"I want you to."
Dark, questioning eyes. "You do?"
"Yes. I want to taste you."
"...right."
"Don't say it like that, I do. It isn't weird, so I'm told."
"I just... okay. Sure."
Ithon cocked his head to one side. He was beginning to wonder quite how good these past conquests of Kip's had been. Certainly there hadn't been many repeat performances, so... he must already be in the top ten?
He had two hands, so one of them attacked his balls and the other slammed up and down, twisting and turning and smirking when the man almost slid down onto his ass. One hand was clawing at the wall, and the other was reaching for him. "Ith... c'mon... please..."
Please was all he needed. He jerked him hard and fast and then put his mouth over his cock again, going a bit less insane this time and bobbing up and down with his tongue as mobile as he could make it. It was messy, and it was noisy, and it was glorious. There was a hand on the back of his head, guiding him but not forcing him, and he nodded his assent. And then again, because he didn't get the picture, with a grunt for good measure.
Which was all Kip needed. The hand on his head tugged him down a few times, then held him still as he started to buck in the little space he had. There was a sudden feeling of warmth and wetness, and a yelped, pleased cry and Ithon was doing all he could to swallow it down. It didn't taste bad, but it was a little strange. Not that he really knew what to expect, as he'd never even licked at his own. Sniffed, yes. Tasted, no. He tapped at Kip's leg when it became a little too much, and the man pulled him back at once, looking apologetic and very, very pleased.
"That... Ithon. Damn."
"That bad, huh?" he asked, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at the red and sticky, slowly wilting dick between them and gave it a cheeky little kiss. "I'll get better."
"If you do, I might die of a heart attack."
"Please don't. Especially not if I'm doing this. I can't imagine the coroner's report would be fun."
"Asshole."
"Love you, too."
A little awkwardly, Avery climbed up him. He wasn't sure what the protocol was afterwards, no matter if you spit or swallowed, and was pleasantly surprised when he was pulled in for a lazy, heated kiss.
"I'd like to return the favour, but I might need a few minutes," Kip said, sounding more than a little terrified.
"Hey, I can wait. Just... don't make me wait fifteen years?"
"It doesn't take me that long to recover."
"Well, you did tell me you're not twenty any more..."
That got him a punch to the arm.
"Take me to the bed. I think I can keep you entertained until I catch my breath."
"I like the sound of that..."
***
[Sianor: I need... a stiff... drink... and some alone time with my Christmas present.]
[Ashroe: Heh. You know, we're going to be so confused if we do hit it off, when we bump bits and neither of us have a dick.]
[Sianor: Goddamnit, I know. We can get strapons... but I guess it isn't entirely the same.]
[Ashroe: If you want me to go down on your rubber dick, I totally will. You know you'd still get just as off on it.]
[Sianor: Whimper. I would.]
[Ashroe: Were you typing one-handed?]
[Sianor: Why was I sl-- oh.]
[Ashroe: You were slow just then.]
[Sianor: Shut up! You baffled me with cock!]
[Ashroe: Mwahahahaha. You don't have to say, you know.]
[Sianor: No, I wasn't. I... don't. When I'm writing. But... later.]
[Ashroe: Same, although I do shift about a lot in my seat. I like... the slow burn. I like to spend hours turned on but doing nothing about it. God, yes.]
[Sianor: One of the benefits of not actually having a dick. I can think porny thoughts on the bus if I have to.]
[Ashroe: Train. Definitely. All that rocking and bumping.]
[Sianor: So... we taking the train to the icecream parlour?]
[Ashroe: Dude, we could eat icecream on the train.]
[Sianor: Is that a euphemism, or do you actually mean icecream?]
[Ashroe: Both. Both at once. Definitely.]
[Ashroe: You never told me what you thought of your imaginative boyfriend I bought you.]
[Sianor: Oh... GOOD. Yes. Buy one.]
[Ashroe: That good?]
[Sianor: Well I haven't really had a toy before, just... you know. So. Yeah.]
[Ashroe: Oh god, I've broken the precious little girl, haven't I? Ooops. I remember my first toy. To begin with, I couldn't get it in, hahaha, I was so tense. Then... bam. And yes. I spent much NiMH energy on myself when I worked out what I liked.]
[Sianor: Maybe you'd not enjoy it as much as I did, but... I did.]
[Ashroe: As long as it moves about right and you can get to the buttons, I find anything will do the job. Most of it goes on up in my head, anyway...]
[Sianor: Have you... er... used a strapon?]
[Ashroe: Honestly, no. I've used toys on girls, but not ones attached to me. Why?]
[Sianor: I kinda like the idea.]
[Ashroe: Well, I'm certainly game for it. Giving and receiving.]
[Sianor: Are we even going to make it to the panels?]
[Ashroe: Course we are! We'll have a few days beforehand, and then during the con, we can spend all day feeling... frisky... then finally go for quickies at lunch and then bang one another senseless at night. Perfect.]
[Sianor: Oh god, I'm so turned on right now.]
[Ashroe: Me too. Let's... take this upstairs?]
[Sianor: Yes. Let's.]
[Ashroe: I have a nice little cupboard of toys. A small stable, but good studs. Would you like to pick one for me?]
[Sianor: Send me pics!]
***
Chapter Twenty - Mission: Discrimination
"I don't like this," Biann muttered, as low as she could. It was probably pointless, because if Nessin and the Tuadan Corp could pay for surveillance, then it would be good enough to pick up on a whisper. Still, it was psychological.
"What in particular?"
"All of it." Biann pulled at the plush, sheer bedding on the over-large bed. She'd never even slept in one so large before, and she kept worrying it was going to fold in half over her and swallow her whole. There was such a thing as too much comfort.
"I thought you wanted to see how the other half lived," Kre asked. She was back to pacing the length of the room they were now sharing.
"I decided I don't like it, though. It's all..." The Hleen punched at the bed, and it just bounced under her fist. "We're going to drown in silk and silver. Everything is either shiny or soft... or both. And it looks like it should be comfortable, like you think if you spent lots on money for it, it would be cool, but..."
"But it isn't. It's expensive for the sake of it. It's made with cost in mind, not utility. A poor person buys the chair they can afford, a well-off person buys a chair that will last and work... the rich? They buy a chair that says: 'I can afford this chair'."
"Exactly! How did you live like this?" Purple eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean that."
"No, it is fine, Tho. I sometimes wonder the same thing, myself. Thankfully, Sianar are less about material wealth, and more about... status through strength."
"So this is Hleen?" Biann was disgusted with her people, if so.
"Oh, it's everyone. But this is a particularly garish example, and more Hleen than not."
"And... I don't like how we're basically under house arrest. Don't go here, don't go there... well. They don't even say that. They say: 'go here, go there' but it mainly means 'and not over there'."
Kre turned her back to Biann, then pointed her muzzle to the ceiling, stretching in an obvious display of taut muscle. Biann was struck by how powerful Kre really was, and how it was beautiful in its own way. "I can do confined spaces..."
the Sianar said. "I live aboard the Messenger, after all. But I cannot... this is making my blood burn."
"Why don't we run for it?"
The chaplain's head whipped around, her eyes wide ochre with the tiniest pinprick of black in the centre. "And go where?"
"I... I don't know."
"We know that the Captain is on the run from the authorities. That's all. We have no idea where he is, and we have no real means to get away. If we left, we'd have only what we could carry with us."
"But your... your father?"
"There is every possibility my family are involved somehow. I... I told him no. When we went back. It's why I was hiding from him, because I knew he would ask me to follow in his footsteps, and that I would have to say no. Until I actually said it, he could pretend I would agree, and I suppose I could pretend I would, too."
"You... you don't want to ask your family for help?"
"Biann, I all but told my father I wanted to be disowned." Her voice rattled painfully, scratching behind her words.
"So... so we..."
"We have no contacts. Or... I have none. Nessin is our only hope."
"Here? Where we're told to just... sit? And look like pretty little dollies?"
"She... she said she would try to find your sister, Loap, the Captain."
"Yes, but... how can we be sure she will?" It was beyond frustrating. It was making her feel hopeless. There was nothing to do except watch the endless stream of vids made available to them. Biann couldn't cope with it. She had to be doing. Preferably something with her hands. She always felt better if there was a problem that tools could fix, because those types? You could tell when they were gone. Not like this.
"We can't," Kre admitted, "...but we have nothing else. She... has money and if she is willing to help, we should accept her offer."
"Well, I still think we should make a run for it."
"And go where?"
"Anywhere!"
"It's not... you wouldn't understand."
That was the wrong thing to say. "I beg your pardon?"
"Biann, this is how politics works. A lot of it is talking. Most of it is talking. It all happens behind closed doors and on secure lines. You can't just... hit things until they work."
"So... because I'm a mechanic, and I like to use my hands, I couldn't understand what it's like to have a brain? Or... money?"
"No, Biann-Tho, I--"
"Don't you 'Tho' me! I know what you're thinking. You think I'm a back-water, that I could never possibly understand, because I've come from nothing. It's fine."
Biann was vaguely aware that she was saying things she didn't quite mean, or... that she did. Somewhere, deep down, she clearly felt outclassed, and she was taking out her cabin-fever on Kre because she was the only one around.
"Biann..."
"Just... let me go. I need some air. I'm sorry," she blurted, and shoved past the reaching paw to walk down yet another endless corridor. She wasn't sure where she was going, just... just that she had to move. If she sat still a moment longer, she might start disassembling the room to make another ship. The storm of panic in her chest was blinding her to the world, and if she didn't move, she might just explode.
***
[Sianor: The truth comes out!]
[Ashroe: Don't tell Ithon it was her. He's still sore about his house.]
[Sianor: He gets snippy about the silliest things.]
[Ashroe: It was an expensive house! His espresso machine was mauled!]
[Sianor: He barely used it! He said so himself.]
[Ashroe: It's beside the point. It was shameless destruction of another's property. WANTON destruction of COFFEE making facilities.]
[Sianor: Heheh. Red rag to the bull, then?]
[Ashroe: Imagine how B would feel if someone took Mes apart for parts...]
[Sianor: Okay, ouch, my inner B just winced like she'd been kicked in the lady-bits.]
[Ashroe: So, yes.]
***
Stupid shiny corridors. Stupid polished floor. Stupid security systems. Stupid, polite staff. Stupid everything.
Why wasn't Kre worried? Had she completely misread her friend? She thought she'd really... joined the family. But she didn't seem to feel panicked about the way they were all split up, not as much as Biann felt. And then Biann wondered if it was because she herself was being histrionic, or...?
But... Saidhe! And Loap! And the Captain! Sure, they would all be able to look out for themselves, but it didn't stop her worrying. Saidhe was level-headed and sure. Loap, again, was collected. The Captain... well. He tended to shoot his way out of problems, but he'd never once failed.
All it would take would be one time.
No. She had to stop thinking like that.
And here, here she was useless. Kre was important because of her family, because of her influence and potential. Nessin wanted to work with her, for whatever reason. Biann was only here because she happened to be shopping with someone important when the shit hit the fan. That was it, really. She served no other purpose, and the jealousy was eating away at her insides.
What was worse? Was that she knew she was jealous and acting irrationally, but somehow couldn't stop herself feeling like this. Just because her head knew what she should feel, it didn't translate into actually feeling it.
The doors were on special sensors. They would let you through or not, depending on the programming. So she just opened one of the doors where the sensor panel indicated it was allowed, not even really caring what she found.
"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here."
"It's quite alright. Do come in."
***
[Sianor: I saw that reply you did!]
[Ashroe: You mean to the comment on the earlier chapters?]
[Sianor: YES.]
[Ashroe: Heheh. I couldn't help it. A little mystery is good for the soul.]
[Sianor: But now I want to know... what was in the boxes?]
[Ashroe: I'm not telling.]
[Sianor: Damnit! Maybe I'll go back and edit something in.]
[Ashroe: I'd just edit it back out again.]
[Sianor: Grr. But still, it's nice to know people are still reading!]
[Ashroe: Oh god, yes. I check the stats to see the hitcounts when I post new chapters, and we're getting a steady trickle of people coming back. As well as the kudos.]
[Sianor: I know this work is my longest, but it is also my most popular.]
[Ashroe: Ah, don't get into stats with me, or else I'll start tabulating it at hit and kudos per thousand words, to see what gives you the most bang for your buck.]
[Sianor: You... could do that?]
[Ashroe: Oh yes. Could probably work out the optimal length, pairing, fandom etc so I could see if I was doing it for fame alone, where to focus my attentions.]
[Sianor: This sounds a little creepy to me.]
[Ashroe: Using a computer to create a best-seller? Yeah.]
[Sianor: Do you think you could ever... well. Not you. But do you think someone could ever build a machine that could write stories?]
[Ashroe: Interesting. Hmm. I guess you could build one clever enough to write decent stories, but the truly inspired stuff... no.]
[Sianor: Not even if it was an AI?]
[Ashroe: It would have to be a true AI, or at least something smart enough to be indistinguishable from an intelligence. Something that could fake it so completely, even if it didn't... feel.]
[Sianor: Like a psychopath-robot!]
[Ashroe: That... is a chillingly accurate concept.]
[Sianor: Have you ever tried talking to one of the fake-AIs?]
[Ashroe: The chat robots? Yeah. It's spooky. Sometimes the sass that comes back is spot on, but the downside is that people act ridiculous with it to drive down the intelligence. If you had people only holding real conversations with them, they might have a chance of being truly convincing.]
[Sianor: Ah, but if a real person is a troll, and they come out with nonsen
se, then the AI is actually mimicking Humanity properly.]
[Ashroe: I never thought of that. You're right, just because I have a high standard for my conversational partners, it doesn't mean that every person is literate or even worth talking to. And wow, but that sounds conceited.]
[Sianor: I know what you meant by it, though. I've... yeah. I've met some people online I wouldn't want to talk to in reality.]
[Ashroe: Like me?]
[Sianor: I'm just using you for your words.]
[Ashroe: The internet is so strange, though. I mean, I've known people IRL be fine, but then when they get behind a handle they go off the rails. I don't see why they feel the need to be an asshole, just because they can get away with it. But they do.]
[Sianor: But then, I don't understand murderers or rapists. I'm not saying it's the same level as trolls, but... it's that same lack of moral compass.]
[Ashroe: Some people never read the social contract. But then, some people never read.]
[Sianor: I guess I've said things I probably wouldn't say to someone's face, when online, but not things that were supposed to hurt someone. Like... debating meta or politics.]
