Re: Flotsam

Hey, after a long hiatus Flotsam is back!

I did a complete top to bottom edit of the story. No major plot points have changed but there are now far fewer typos! You can read from the beginning here: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … index.html

You can read the newest chapter here: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … 6acaf394f5



Chapter 20: The New Groove

My prosthetic voice squeals while my pussymouth is muffled by the hot cylinder of Bluebell's teat. Bluebell pants and moos as I smash my face into her udder, tugging and sucking and fucking the long hot six inch shaft of her bovine nipple with my altered face, greedily drinking down the hot cream that splashes into my pussy. One of my hands tugs on another teat, a milky handjob that draws out spurts of milk that splash over our bodies, while my other hand is buried in Bluebell's bovine cunt, four fingers inside her while my thumb is pressed against the hot pulsing bulb of her clit. I gasp and shudder, tense and writhe, as my facial pussy orgasms, and I feel my original cunt spasm and splash my legs with juices. Bluebell reaches down and grabs me firmly by the back of the head with her long blue fingers, grinds my face into her udder with inhuman strength. I feel her body buck like a bull and her ropey tail flail as she throws her head back and "MOOOOOOO!!!!" Her cunt clamps down hard on my fingers as she orgasms...


I'm climbing down the stairs from the bedroom, still too aware of just how much my body bounces with every step. I feel my cheeks flush and pussy lips tingle, the feeling not at all unpleasant. I reach up and touch my hair, still wet from the shower, and remind myself that now is not the time for sexy games. Today I have a schedule to keep. Stay focused Halley!

As I reach the bottom of the stairs I peek at Bluebell sitting at her kitchen table, doing some admin while the milking machine chugs away, harvesting the morning milk from her four tits and udder. I smile at her with my eyes and think about fucking her the night before. About my face pussy impaled on her teats while milk exploded in my mouth in a hot creamy rush. About the ecstatic way she moos when she comes. I blush and feel the pussy on my face start to engorge and a similar heat starts to grow in my belly. I shake my head, if I wasn't careful I'd want another encore, and there definitely wasn't time for that. And anyway I'd just had a shower and gotten all dressed up for work. I enter our small kitchen and Bluebell finally notices me, her mouth opening in a wide smile. "Good Mooo-rning", she says warmly, clearly feeling a bit blissed out from her milking.

"Hi yourself." I wasn't quite sure what Bluebell and I had become exactly. We were definitely roommates, certainly friends, and inarguably lovers, what with all the milky kinky fucking. The entire thing felt both casual and deeply intimate all at once, but in a way that didn't fit conveniently into any of my familiar boxes. Maybe it was a Blue thing? We've never sat down and talked about it, just one thing leading to another and another thing leading to orgasms. It was nice, I was having fun and the sex was incredible; if there was one thing my new body was good for it was fucking. Did Bluebell even want a human-style relationship with me? Did I want one with her? I honestly wasn't sure. So much of my life has been in flux in the weeks since my change that I'm not sure I even know the answer. All I know is that I love Bluebell, maybe not exactly romantically, but definitely as a friend, and that the sex part is great. And honestly, all those dairy calories were a big help I was since I was still figuring out the whole food thing.

And speaking of milk, another thing we'd become was business partners. "How are we doing for supply?"

"This one believes it will be adequate to cover our deliveries. Barely." Bluebell smiles at me, a playful edge to her expression, "No thanks to you."

"Well," I touch my facial labia with a finger tip coquettishly, "Sometimes you have to put pleasure before business."

"There is that keen nose for commercial matters that makes you the ideal partner for this venture."

I giggle, "I didn't hear you complaining last night. Or this morning."

Bluebell just blinks her big black eyes and emits an innocent "Moo." I give the cowish Blue alien a fond smile and a relatively chaste labial-peck on her head, and then I raid the kitchenette, filling a special cup with warm tea and heating up one of my protein rich breakfasts. I take my place at our little table and gently insert the vaguely phallic shaped straw of my naughty sippy cup into my face-pussy and take a tiny experimental suckle to test the temperature. Very hot tea on labia is not a nice feeling. Satisfied the tea wasn't gonna burn my cunt off, I take a long drink of the strong sweet tea, trying to focus on the taste instead of the very sexy sensations radiating through my face. I have just enough time for a quick breakfast, not a long masturbation session. I put the tea aside and pick up my protein cylinder, a long tube of chorizo flavoured meat-substitute that looks unappetizingly like an orange hotdog. But when feeding yourself involves penetration, a rubbery meat tube gets the job done. I take a moment to calm myself down, wrap my fingers around the warm protein tube and press it against the labia on my face. I wiggle the wiener around until the tip finds the sweet spot and starts to slip inside my pussy. I feel my breakfast stretch my opening and moan a little, this part inconveniently always feels good. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, feel air rush past my ears. I push the protein cylinder into myself further and further, inch by inch until the tip of it bumps against the back of my throat. I see stars and my mouth pussy drools obscenely. It feels just like I've stuffed my cunt full of a sex toy. I tip my head back and swallow, my esophagus pulling the orange hotdog whole into my gizzard which will chew it up before sending it along to my stomach. I pant and clench and unclench my hands, force myself to take deep breaths and quiet the burning arousal in my body. I can't possibly have sex after every meal, no matter how fucking good it feels. I take one last calming moment and open my eyes to see Bluebell looking at me intently. "That was quite sexy."

I laugh, "Not helping!"


"Delivery!" I pull my vehicle to a stop and it folds its mechanical climbing legs, lowering itself back onto its chunky wheels. I put the bike into standby, swing myself sidesaddle, and plant my cowboy boots on the dusty ground. "Guys! Delivery!"

The backdoor to the little restaurant pops open and Sammanal pokes his head out. "Halley! How is my favourite Earthling!"

"Busy," I grumble, as I work to undo the thick nylon straps securing the large milk dewar to the cargo rack. "And I bet you use that line on all the Halleys."

Sam laughs as he comes outside. He pulls a vape out of a pocket in his stained kitchen apron and slips it between his lips. "Need help?"

"What if I said yes?"

Sam quirks an unkempt eyebrow, shrugs expressively, and takes a long drag on his vape. Sammanal is very handsome, with brick red skin, messy blue-black hair, a stubbled chin, tall and angular features, and a twinkle in his dark eyes. He is just a little bit of a dirtbag in a way that's cute instead of threatening. Sammanal blows a plume of inky smoke and winks at me. I blush, grateful that I'm wearing a holstein-print mask over my face to hide my pussy and also blushes.

I manage to get the strap clip open, but in a way that gets my dumb cornflower blue gingham dress snagged in the mechanism. When I decided that Bluebell's Dairy Service needed a signature look for its delivery girl, I thought Earthling-style cowgirl would be perfect. Lot's of nostalgic charm that no one would understand, a playful nod to a farm aesthetic that doesn't at all translate to this planet, and most importantly I'd look totally cute in western wear. And while curvaceous sexpot Halley-24 totally pulls off the look, wearing jeans and a shirt would have been so much more practical than a kitschy dress and vest and little cowboy hat. Even a classic 1950s milkman getup would have been more functional. I growl and extricate myself from the rack. Sammanal salutes me with the tip of his glowing vape.

"You know, I would love to cook you dinner sometime." Sam says, watching my breasts as I lift the heavy milk dewar off the luggage rack, which is easier than it should be since my transformed body is nearly as strong as it is horny.

"You just want to see what I look like under the mask," I say playfully, batting my eyes at him.

"Of course! It is very mysterious!"

"What if I'm horribly deformed?" I ask as playfully as I can. "Or just ugly."

"Tragedy is sexy." Sam shrugs, "And we can always put the mask back on."

"Sam! Stop flirting with the Earthling female and drag that disgusting cattle fluid inside before it spoils!" A toad shaped brown alien wearing a cook outfit leans out the kitchen door waving his tentacles. He makes a noise like an underwater loudspeaker that I understand as: "I ain't paying you to practice your filthy human courtship rituals."

"Hi, Mister Phrune-Kcure!" I say waving.

"It's pronounced PhhrnnnnKcrrrnnn," the alien wumbles at me before oozing back into his kitchen and slamming the door.

Sam thumbs off his vape, smiles ruefully, and cracks his knuckles. I set down the milk dewar and he goes to lift it, stops short, and tries again more carefully. "Stars Above, Halley! How do you make carrying this look so easy?"

I smile with my eyes above the mask, "It's a mystery."


"Well Howdy, Pilgrim!" Steadfast Freya booms gayly as she lifts me the rest of the way onto the Hideaway's rooftop garden. "Ah reckon you look a might thirsty, Buckaroo!"

I roll my eyes and slip my fingers behind the earloops of my mask. "Okay, who taught you how to cowboy talk?"

"I sought Hank's counsel on the significance of your costume," Freya says with a big smile. "How did I perform? I spent all morning rehearsing."

"You nailed it, Pardner," I say as I peel my mask off my face, the fabric clinging a little to my always sticky lips.

"Yippee-ki-yay, Motherfucker!"

I giggle, "Settle down. Where's my Mud?"

Freya crosses two of her burly arms and rests her other hands on her hips, "You could feign happiness at my company for a moment longer."

"No... coffee-stuff... now..."

"Addict!" Freya laughs and marches toward her apartment to fetch our drinks. I stand at the rooftop rail and look out over the city, enjoying the feeling of the warm breeze on my unclothed face. After a morning crammed into a stuffy and increasingly funky mask, this was deeply refreshing, even if the feeling of the sun on my facial pussy feels uncannily like that one time I went to a nude beach. I wonder if I'll ever be confident enough to go out like this in public. I shake my head, probably not any time soon. Although the whole face mask wearing thing was turning out to be a real drag. How could anyone get used to it?

I turn and see Freya returning with two steaming mugs of Mud clutched in her top hands, and a carafe and a special Halley cock-sippy lid in her other hands. She hands me my mug and lid, which I leave off for the moment, breathing in the aromatic earthy scent of the not-quite-coffee. I look over and catch Freya studying my facial labia. "You're staring again."

"I apologize, it is just that your altered face is very beautiful."

"And strange." I say rolling my eyes.

"Yes," Freya says nodding, "but many beautiful things are strange as well."

I brush my hair back with a hand and look at Freya, her strong face, her muscular vital body, those four outrageous tits packed into a tight tunic with a deep-V for top cleavage and a belly window for lower underboob, her long blonde braids hanging loose around her shoulders, and those intense blue eyes. I glance away and feel the warm tingles of arousal in my pelvis and cheeks, and think again of the kiss she gave me in my sick bed. "You really have a way of making a girl feel special."

"Imagine how much more special you shall feel when you let me consummate my lust..." Freya's look is decidedly predatory.

"Easy horndog," I say laughing. Freya sighs wistfully and takes a hearty drink of her Mud. I lift my mug up almost to my labia and blow on it, impatient for it to cool enough to drink. "Even if I were interested in hooking up, which I'm totally not admitting to, I need to sort things out with Hank before anything happens between us. I know it's not a big deal to you, but I think it would be to him, since it would be to me, y'know? I'd really like to come to the bar eventually without it being..." cringe inducingly awful in every way... "awkward." I dip my little finger into my Mud, and decide it passes the baby bottle test, and pop my special lid over the mug top. "We go over this every Shift."

"And yet every Shift you and Hank persist in evading one another."

"We Halley's are a slippery lot," I say as I lift my lidded mug up for a drink. I twist my wrist to wiggle the phallus spout of my cup into my pussymouth. I suck with my labia and guid the straw right into the sweet spot at my oral vaginal vestibule. My eyes are closed and I can feel pleasure radiating out from the rubbery shaft of my drinking spout. I moan despite myself. I tilt my head back a little and warm Mud flows into the cunt that is my mouth and down my throat. My pussymouth fills with the earthy, spicy, velvety flavour of my coffee substitute while blood pulses into my facial labia making everything engorge and tighten and get so much more sensitive. I feel pussy juices start to dribble down my chin and the smell of cunt mixes with the Mud aroma. Back on Earth drinking coffee had sometimes felt almost sexual, but this right here was pornographic. Without thinking about it my hand starts to move, pushing the cock-shaped drink spout in and out of my labia, fucking myself just a little. I groan in my throat and with my prosthesis and realize what I'm doing and stop. I pull the cup free from my mouth, a shiny thread of grool connecting my pussymouth to the mug. Freya is staring, a look of naked desire on her face. "Sorry," I say, blushing and looking away, panting. "It's um, really good Mud?"

"The way you drink your beverage is doing nothing to arrest my desires..."

I laugh a little and wipe the pussy drool off my chin,  "Not the first time I've heard that today."

Freya laughs too and gives my shoulder a hearty squeeze before turning to look out over the Mesa city with me. We sip in companionable silence for a while before Freya smiles at me and asks, "Have you found any other new lovers?"

I blush, "You are way too invested in my sex life."

"I would satisfy your needs myself, but you continue to resist my advances."

"Well, Freya the Relentless and Inquisitive, there is no one new. Just the Bluebell thing." And my Grey AI sextoy-slash-fuckbuddy. And that one night at The Grove, but Freya doesn't need to know everything.

"You must know your dalliance with Bluebell is not exclusive. Blue's only pair bond when mating."

"That doesn't mean I need to throw myself face-cunt first at the nearest pretty person I meet."

"True." Freya says, nodding and taking a long sip of her Mud. "But I have known many Halleys, and have always found you all happiest with a romantic partner."

I take another drink of my Mud and sigh, it was annoying but Freya was probably right. As great as things were with Bluebell, I know I'd eventually need more of an Earthling-style relationship. "Yeah, well... eventually..."

"I know of many attractive males and females with whom you might have chemistry!"

I groan and toss my hat at Freya, which bounces harmlessly off a forearm raised defensively over her mug. "I'm just not ready to put myself back out there. I know you're all about getting back up on the horse, but I'm still getting used to my new face. And my new sex stuff. Okay?"

"Fine, I shall not try and 'set you up', Herdsman." Freya picks up my small cowboy hat from the ground and carefully places it on her head. "But tell me, Cowpoke, did you flirtatiously palaver with the handsome kitchen rogue again today?"



"You watch where you're going you scaly asshole!!" Fucking Reptilian maniac! Who fucking drives like this on a goat track!

I force myself to pull the bike over and calm myself down. Flotsam has like a dozen or so actually paved service roads, which mostly just go around in a circle or connect with freight furniculars, it's not like any of them go anywhere exciting. Speeding along the tarmac doesn't take you anywhere! And anyway Flotsam is lousy with flying vehicles! If you're in a hurry just fucking fly guy! "Just being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole." I sigh, at least my deliveries are almost done. Just a couple more stops and then back home to set up for tomorrow and hangout with Bluebell. I smile with my eyes and feel parts of my body warm up, I'm pretty excited to see my Blue whatever-she-is-to-me again. Which, ugh Halley, you lovesick dork! I smile even harder, feel my cheeks pull at my pussymouth; whatever, it's nice.

I settle back on my bike saddle and watch the sapients walking by. This particular road connects some major lifts with a big Human Quarter shopping and restaurant district, so there's a pretty steady stream of humans. A part of me is jealous of them and their sense of normalcy, or well, what passes for normalcy on Flotsam. Sure that girl has deer antlers and the guy she's holding hands with has an impressive moose rack, but they're clearly a cute young couple out on a date, while I'm a permanently pussy-faced clone wearing a cowboy outfit. I see families and lovers and teens and loners, and they all basically blend in together. They could be from anywhere, once you get past the superficial spacey stuff. I doubt I'll ever be able to dissolve into a crowd like that again. If I popped off my face mask every pair of eyes would look at my face, maybe in fascination or maybe disgust or maybe just to leer at me, but I'd definitely be the center of attention. Even with my face covered people are studying me, guys and some girls obviously ogling my enhanced breasts and curves. I've never been comfortable with attention, and even just these fairly casual stares are enough to make me feel anxious. I spot a little group of Red Robed figures walking in a little bubble of empty space, other folks subconsciously shying away a bit. I wonder what it must be like to be hidden like them, to be anonymized. Is being obscured better than being weird? Was having no identity better than too much of one? In my darkest moments I envied the Robed, but now I can recognize that it's not a lifestyle I'd actually want. What I want is to fit in as myself, not be erased. I reach up and touch my face through my mask, shivering a little at the sensation. Was my life even that bad right now? Really? I was deformed, sure, but I have friends and a lover, a home and a job, and compared to so many other sapients my physical challenges were totally manageable. In some ways fun even. Definitely sexy. Maybe I should just count my blessings and get on with my pussymouthed life?

I sit up straight in the saddle and wake the bike out of standby. I stretch my neck and take one last look over the crowd, searching for anyone familiar, like a client or acquaintance. Maybe Sammanal, a silly part of me thinks. Or the new Halley, a darker part whispers. My breath catches for a second, I'm nowhere near ready to meet the inevitable Halley-25. I have to assume that my cultist misadventure and subsequent transformation satisfied the Backup Respawning conditions of my Cloning Contract. Right? If this didn't send in the clone, what would? Which means it's only a matter of time until my newest clone sister is decanted in Clem's apartment, is sent to Hank for a debrief, and thrust at me as a cautionary tale about trusting the wrong versions of herself. I feel tears sting my eyes, I'm so not ready to have the living evidence that I'm broken goods show up for a pep talk. Not in the slightest. If Halley-25 could just give me a few more months to sort myself out a bit more, I'd be really really grateful. But fortunately I spy no Halleys, new or otherwise in the crowd, so I take a deep breath and kick the bike into gear.

I start to slowly trundle forward with the crowd when my Keyband chimes. "Hmm?" The New Message graphic is flashing so I stop the bike and tap it open. It's from some sort of redacted contact...

-[blocked]: if you wish to learn more about halley prime proceed to the grove and meet my representative

-Halley24: Okay? Who is this?

-[blocked]: an interested party

-[blocked]: if you wish to learn more meet my representative

-[blocked]: <wayfinding packet>

I frown and would have bitten my tongue if I still had teeth. Or a tongue. What the fuck was this about? A mysterious weirdo wants me to go to a clandestine meeting about Halley-Prime? This seems like a terrible idea. I click open the wayfinding information and see the meeting coordinates are on the grand meadow of The Grove. I check the time and see that I can make the meeting as long as I hustle to finish my deliveries. But do I even want to go to this? Meet the 'representative' of an anonymous 'interested party', which doesn't sound ominous at all. Is it even safe? I finger the smooth silver band of my Grey technology choker, I do have a guardian angel and The Grove is inside the city limits. HAL-E could be there in moments if something bad happened. Besides, the meadow was a weirdly open place to stage an ambush. So I probably didn't need to worry about safety. Did I still care what happened to Halley-Prime? That was the real question. Searching for answers hasn't worked out great for the other Halleys and so far it hasn't exactly been kind to me either. Was solving the mystery really worth risking whatever life I'd managed to carve out for myself since the cult? Shouldn't I focus on 24 instead of Prime? But then there was what The Sleeping God told me, that Halley Prime had been the true target of abduction. That she was in some way valuable. That I'm secretly special. And yeah, that did have me curious. All my life I've always been an afterthought, an outsider: an orphan, then a trailer park shut in, and now a damaged clone delivery girl. The chance to learn that I've always been important is devilishly tempting. I sigh and chew my labia together, a meeting couldn't hurt could it?

-Halley24: Okay, I'm in. Can you give me any more details? Tell me anything about yourself?


-Halley24: Hello? Hi?


-Halley24: Really?

-Halley24: Oooooh I'm so mysterious!


-Halley24: This better not be a joke.

Fucking mysterious strangers, I kick the bike into gear and open the throttle. The bike starts to speed along the strip of road left clear for vehicles, I have deliveries to finish and a meeting to get to. I honk my little horn at a slow moving drone resupply cart. "Oughta the way jerkass! Coming through!"


I steer the bike slowly between the Grey silver plinths and into The Grove, shivering at the sensation of the quarantine field passing through me. I'm not sure which part of it creeps me out most, that the field itself has the power to vaporize me, or the reminder I'm stepping through the safety curtain into the infectious disease ward. I drive the bike a little further and park it, remind myself The Grove is a lovely park filled with harmless sex hippies. And anyway I'm totally immune to the Funganoid. Nothing to worry about, except I guess, my shadowy meeting with the 'representative'.

I'm a little early for the rendezvous and close enough to walk, so I decide to hoof it the rest of the way. It's a nice day and there are really so few opportunities to be in nature on Flotsam. An early therapist, the one before the one I really clicked with, swore that the key to mental health was hiking. He was a flake, but on this one point he was probably onto something. I pull my mask off my face a little and suck in a deep breath of air pregnant with the smell of flowers and aphrodisiac pollen. I feel my head swim a little and pleasant tingles in my body. I'm definitely feeling the wellness. I do a quick wayfinding check and start strolling in the direction of my meeting, but I don't get more than fifteen steps closer before a green face erupts from a thicket of tall wildflowers. "Jesus!"

The green face belongs to a familiar naked green woman, curvaceous and bountiful and sporting a large erection. "Halley!" She squeals happily, scurrying over for a hug.

I open my arms and hug her back, try but mostly fail to ignore the way her cock prods my stomach when we embrace. And the way her hands instantly glide down my back to feel up my ass. "Hi Rylnx."

Rylnx lifts her head off my shoulder and looks at me with her big dark green eyes. "Have you come to make love with me?" She asks, biting her lip, her nostrils flare as she starts to pant a little. "You should take off that awful mask."

I can feel my heart beating faster and all two and half of my pussies start to engorge. Rylnx smells amazing and The Grove's special horny magic is starting to do its thing, not that I need much of a push these days. It's extremely tempting to give in to it, blow off my dumb mystery meeting, and just fuck this gorgeous creature. I shake my head trying to clear it a bit, if I ever wanted my life to more than just a series of bizarre pornographic scenes than I had to prioritize business. "Sorry," I say with a gasp, "I'd really love to, really, but I'm supposed to meet with someone here in like ten minutes..."

Rlynx makes a whining sound and puts on an anguished pout. "But didn't we have such fun last time?" My mind flashes back to the night Bluebell and I partied in The Grove. Memories of dancing and drinking Berry Wine, singing around a bonfire after shedding our clothes, and getting high on all sorts of locally grown botanicals. The blurry image of Bluebell ending up in Halley-22's arms and slinking away into the bushes to have sex. The whirlwind of finding myself in the orgy of Dryads, touching, kissing in the way that I kiss, fumbling from person to person, until I found myself between Rlynx and that spectacular male Grove Creature, the Satyr Pantor. Of drawing them both to me, crouching on the ground between them on my hands and knees, and baring all my openings.  The sensation of Pantor, his muscular body draped over my back, his sinewy arms round my hips and waist, his inhumanly long and hard cock thrust into my glowing, boiling cunt, stretching me to the point of bursting. Rylnx in counterpoint, her almost as large green cock in my pussymouth, smooth balls against my chin, shaft shoved down my throat, her soft belly on my forehead. The glorious memory of getting fucked from both sides while the Dryad and Satyr kissed passionately above me. The almost beastial noises I made as I came again and again, until we eventually collapsed together in a contented mass. "So much fun," I say quietly.

"Wouldn't you like to have fun like that again? I'm sure we could find Pantor... maybe stage a reenactment?"

I close my eyes and think about how it felt to be between Rylnx and Pantor, of having their hard hot cocks stretching me from either side, pounding into me, satisfying all of my needs. Of Pantor's rugged male hardness and the soft feminine warmth of Rlynx, a perfect bisexual moment aided by the ecstatic high of floral aphrodisiac pollen. Just absolutely.... "ffffuuuckk..."

Rlynx leans in closer to me, breaths in my ear, "Yyessss...." She slips a finger under my face mask, takes it half off. She licks my bare facepussy with a too long green tongue, a lengthy caress that makes my knees tremble and makes me moan. "You taste divine..."

"N-no Rylnx. N-n-not right now." Rlynx lets me go, she knows the rules, no means no. She takes a step back and flops down onto her butt, her achingly hard cock sticking up like a flagpole. She looks disappointed and frustrated and a little hurt and so, so horny. My face mask hangs from my ear and my pussymouth is inflamed and shiny wet, juices dripping down my chin. I might not be the nymphomaniac host of a sexually transmitted parasitic alien lifeform, but my cheeks ache with pent up need. I'm sure Rylnx needs to fuck more than I do, but fuck me I need it too. Would it be so bad to just go for it? Just fuck her with my face a bit to get it out of our systems? I'm too revved up for a serious meeting right now anyway and it seems cruel to just rebuff her like this. And that glorious cock is right there, it would be wasteful not to enjoy it. I got here early, the meeting still isn't for a few minutes, I can make this work. "Fuck it, I've got time."

I toss my face mask to the ground, drop to my knees, and duck my head forward like I'm bobbing for cock. Rylnx blinks in surprise and shifts, and my labial lips bump awkwardly onto cock, bouncing against her glans. Rylnx giggles and then gasps when I grab her long green veiny cock with my hands and start to stroke it. I rub my pussymouth all over her glans, painting her cock with my hot juices and getting it nice and wet and slippery. Rylnx tips her head back and lets out a moan of relief. I lift my head back and take a long deep breath through my hidden nostrils, and then lower my face onto her cock, using my hands to hold her cock steady as I push it through my labia. Panting, cock firmly in my pussymouth, I twist my face looking for the sweet spot, and ahhhh finding it, I push forward and down, force Rylnx's cock into the vagina that is my throat. Pleasurable discomfort radiates through my body as I feel myself stretch. I emit a deep moaning sound and Rylnx is panting. I push and push her cock deeper into my face until I feel my labial lips press against the skin of her crotch and balls. I look up at her and only see the underside of her large green tits. "Ooooh Halley," Rlynx gasps as her  hands reach down to grab me by the back of my head.


I stumble over the last hill in the direction of my rendezvous. I'm officially running late and I can still feel Rylnx's syrupy cum oozing out of my pussymouth and into my mask. I probably reek like sex, or at least pussy. I have grass stains on the knees of my cowgirl dress and my hair is a mess and I've somehow lost my hat. My hands feel sticky and I hope this 'representative' doesn't want a handshake. I don't think I'm about to make a very good first impression.

I crest the top of the little hill and don't see anyone waiting for me. No trench coat clad spymaster or red dress wearing femme fatale or anyone even vaguely 'representative' shaped, just an empty meadow on a sunny afternoon. Maybe I'm supposed to get their attention somehow? Do a hand signal to lure them out of hiding? I frown, my instructions told me where to go and when, and didn't include any special protocol for when I arrived. I was a little late, maybe my contact left already? I groan, I know I shouldn't have stopped for sex. Way to ruin a chance at solving the mystery you dumb slut. I place my hand on my forehead and groan again. Maybe there's a way to fix this? I could try sending another message to the 'interested party'... except their address was anonymous. "Damn it, Halley!"

I look around and see something shiny moving a few hundred feet away, closer to the trees. I squint and see it's a woman, or at least something woman shaped, and she looks to be out walking a large dog. I jog towards her, maybe she saw who I was supposed to meet and where they went? It couldn't hurt to ask. As I get closer I decide the woman looks more robotic than fleshy: she's completely covered in chrome metal styled like a retro-futuristic sexualized feminine robot. She has perfectly sculpted breasts, a slit visor instead of eyes, and sharp stiletto antenna sticking out of her ears. She reminds me of this little sexy fembot figurine Clem had, a reproduction of a larger fetishy statue by a Japanese artist. The silver robot slinks along in a gracefully rigid gait on the tips of her toes, and her dog rambles obediently along beside her. The dog looks a lot like an oversized Australian shepherd but with royal blue and purple fur, except as I get nearer I see the dog is actually a dog-girl, a canine petgirl walking on all four paws. The long fur and completely canine limbs obscure it, but I can see the doggirl has a mostly human torso lined with furless tits and that her face is mostly human aside from her big shepherdy ears, and the black-nosed muzzle of her lower face. The doggirl's shaggy tail is wagging and she has her nose pressed down to the grass. Her behavior and body language is so totally dog, that I wonder just how canine her mind has become.

"Hi! Sorry!" I pant loudly as I catch up. The robotic woman stops, stands tall, and artfully tilts a hip, but doesn't reply. The doggirl barks happily when she sees me and her tail starts to wag even faster. She tugs on the leash and a long pink tongue hangs out of her mouth as she starts to pant. "Cute dog," I say, trying to break the ice. The visored robotic face regards me, and I notice the only other feature on her face are pursed lips embossed on the smooth steel of her face. "Can I pet your dog?" I offer my hand to the petgirl. The doggirl thrusts her nose forward and sniffs it, and deciding she likes the scent of my jib, offers me several slobbery licks. "Hi," I say to the dog, ruffling the long fur on the top of her head and ears. "I'm Halley," I say to the robot and doggirl, "what are your names?” The robot just stands patiently and the dog fidgets between trying to lick me and letting me pet her head. "You at least have to tell me the name of this cutie..." I say, pleading a little. The pettgirl rolls onto her back, paws tucked, eight breasts pooling on her chest, and I see that this doggirl is the red rocket having kind. "Sorry, pup, this belly rub is a little too intimate for a first walk." The dog whines and rolls back onto her paws and sits. "Okay my shiny friend, it was nice meeting your dog, but I actually need some help here. I was supposed to meet someone, and I'm running a little late, and I was wondering if you know where they went. I, uh, don't actually know what they look like? Or their name. But I'm looking for a... 'representative’…”

"You've found them," The doggirl says from her sit. The petgirl's entire body language is different, still and commanding, and a bemused human intelligence shines in her eyes. "You can call me Sceolàn."


"I'm your contact," The doggirl replies. "Here, take my leash and we can have our meeting while we walk. It's a beautiful day for it."

"Okay," I say limply as the femme robot precisely hands me the leash. Sceolàn stands to her paws and starts walking, dragging me along with her. "What's with the dog thing? Is this like, part of your cover?"

Sceolàn wags her tail and makes a kind of doggy chuckling noise, "Something like that."

"That was quite the act back there, you totally had me convinced you were actually a dog. Mentally, I mean."

"It wasn't an act. When I'm in dog-mode most of my human mind shuts off, and I'm basically just a happy dog until I switch back to agent-mode."

"That... seems pretty drastic for just a cover story, no offense."

"It's fine, and honestly dog-mode is amazing. Do you know how happy dogs are? Everything is wonderful: food, pets, games, being outside. Every moment is the greatest moment and everyone in the world is either your best friend or a new friend to make. It's really a pleasant state to live in and a pretty okay tradeoff for my safety." Sceolàn pulls up for a moment to sniff at a patch of meadow flowers. "In my past life I'd gotten myself into trouble with some really bad people. I came to Flotsam to hide, and Master offered this as a solution. I could be Master's pet dog, hide in a way that no one from my past life would recognize, and work for Master as an agent still, using my canine form as a disguise." Sceolàn raises a hind leg and pees on the flowers. "By the way, keep a firm grip on the leash, okay? Sometimes I can't control when I switch into dog-mode, and I might try and bolt."

I nod and tighten my hold on the leash, "And your Master is interested in Halley-Prime."

"Yes." The petgirl nods seriously, her ears flopping with the motion.

"Why? What's in it for them?"

"My Master is an infobroker, one who's had previous dealings with Halley-Prime. Master doesn't like leaving puzzles unfinished, and is, let's say, vexed by Prime's disappearance. Discovering where Halley-Prime has gone has become something of a hobby for my Master. An impudent pup might even say it's an obsession." Sceolàn stops and raises a paw to scratch an ear.

"And where do I fit into this?"

"Our Network has uncovered a promising lead, but one that needs a Halley to sort out. One of your sisters...." Sceolàn looks up suddenly towards a nearby copse of trees and barks. She lunges forward dragging on the leash, still barking. I hold onto the leash and almost lose my grip. The doggirl raises up on her hind legs, pulling as hard as she can, still barking her head off. I see a little hopping creature, something between a toad and a lizard, but moving more like a bunny in the grass. Some sort of critter that Sceolàn spotted and desperately wants to chase. "No! Bad dog! Heel!" I feel ridiculous, we were just having a conversation! "Sceolàn, Heel!" I manage to drag her sideways, and she comes along, looking a bit guilty. "You weren't joking on the dog-mode switch..." Sceolàn just stares up at me, her eyes flat and loving and totally canine. "Still a dog, eh?" I sigh and pick a direction to walk and Sceolàn happily falls into stride beside me. "Well, at least it's a nice day for it..."

We walk for a very pleasant ten minutes or so before the doggirl blinks and clears her throat, "Sorry. Those little monsters always make me lose my composure."

"Squirrels? Whatcha gonna do?"


"It's an Earth-dog thing..."

"Right," Sceolàn makes a thoughtful dog face, "Where were we?"

"You need me for a lead."

"Yes. We have information that one of your clone sisters has found evidence about why Halley-Prime was abducted. She's keeping it to herself, possibly because she's been intimidated by someone. Master believes that this Halley will only share what she's learned with another Halley, which is why we'd like you to go pay her a visit."

I touch my filthy face mask, "The Sleeping God told me that Halley-Prime was the true target of the abduction."

Sceolàn nodded, "Master had surmised as much. Master believes this evidence contains new details about why the abduction took place. It could be the key to finding Halley-Prime."

"Or at least explaining why I'm here."

"Exactly." The petgirl agent tilts her head, "Interested?"

I break eye contact with the petgirl and look away, down the slop of the city and out towards the Junk Desert. This felt like a big decision, one of those choices that would inevitably lead to consequences. I wasn’t sure it was worth it. I could stay with Bluebell and focus on the dairy business, maybe sort things out with Clem, carve out a new life. Leave chasing after Halley-Prime to hobbyist infobrokers and their dogs. To newer, pristine Halleys. I blow out a sigh, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know why I was on Flotsam and why I’m a clone and why I was preyed on by a cosmic alien horror. I wanted to know what happened to Halley-Prime. Fuck it, I came to this meeting didn’t I? I’ve already made my choice. "Is it dangerous?"

"We don't expect it to be."

"And your Master will share what they learn with me."


"And you expect this to actually solve the mystery?"


“This is such a bad idea,” I say, “But I’m in.”

“Excellent,” Sceolàn says with a bark, her tail wagging. The petgirl walks closer to me, sits rather formally and lifts a front paw, like she’s doing the handshake trick. I laugh and reach out, grasp the rough paw in my hand, and we shake. “Welcome to the team. If you’ll tap your Keyband against my collar, there’ll be a secure file transfer with the mission details. Do not look at them now, find a private place to review the documents. Included in the packet is a network address to let Master know when you’re done.”


“Now if you could walk me back to my minder, we can end this meeting. I’m going to slip back into dog-mode if you don’t mind. Walkies are so much better that way.”

“Yeah, but just one more question before you check out.”


"What do I call your Master?"

"You can call them Gan Ceann"



Re: Flotsam

Another new chapter of Flotsam. You can read the new chapter here: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … c0bb2178c2


Chapter 21: Sexbox

I’m standing in front of a giant matte black cube with SEXBOX written on it in glowing white letters that writhe like a mirage. "I guess this is the place."

I walk towards the strangely featureless building looking for an entrance. The non-reflective black paint seems to drink in all the bright neon Port District light around it, making the Sexbox look more like an otherworldly absence than a physical place. I can't see any obvious doors or windows, just smooth flat surfaces except for the SEXBOX hologram, some sort of clever signage that transcends language. I approach the too black wall and it's like staring into an endless void, just blank, depthless black that my mind refuses to process as a nearby solid surface. I reach out and touch the wall and it's rougher than I expected, textured like sharkskin. I stare along the surface of the wall, searching for imperfections, but the wall is smooth as far as I can see. I leave my fingers touching the wall and walk along it, in the direction of the farthest corner, hoping that I'll maybe feel something my eyes can't see. My fingertips get warm as they scrape along the rough black paint, until suddenly a circle of white holographic light strobes under my touch. I press my entire hand against the glowing circle, flattening my palm against the wall, hoping this might open a door somehow. I flinch as two spots of light appear on the black wall, about three feet on either side of the spot my hand is touching. The lights move along the wall, carving twin paths, etching out a large octagon shape with a glowing white line. The octagonal outline flashes and splits open, revealing itself to be a hidden doorway, and I stumble awkwardly into a lobby lit by dim red light.

I stand up and try to regain my composure, blinking my eyes to adjust to the dark red light. I see several beautiful naked people lounging on couches along the longest wall of the room. They are mostly women, or at least femme, with huge naked breasts and toned stomachs and generous hips, enhanced proportions as unrealistic as my own. One of theses women sits forward with her legs spread and I see she has a cock as wide as my wrist. A hugely, splendidly fat woman yawns and shifts, her ponderous belly and enormous breasts rolling with her, while beside her a three foot tall muscular woman cracks her knuckles. I see men in the group too, slender beautiful ones in corsets and lingerie and muscular decathlete types and big furry bears, all looking languid or stern or bored. I notice a skinny woman wearing a flowing gown staring at me intently, her too wide eyes drinking me in. A hologram of giant red painted lips covers the wall behind them, slowly moving frame by frame, biting themselves and licking and mouthing the word sssseeeexxxxxbbbbooooxxxx in a slow loop. I shiver and look away.

Yep, definitely a brothel.

At the back of the room is a desk and the woman who must be in charge. She’s older, maybe in her fifties by Earth years, and is beautiful in a handsome sort of way. She has platinum blonde hair cut short but still tied back in an efficient updo, sculpted sweeping bangs, piercing emerald green eyes, a stern mouth, and a strong chin. The woman is dressed in a modestly cut fancy dress that makes me think of 1950s TV wives. Standing off to the side is an elderly  woman with an ugly wrinkled face, shaved head, wide body, and muscular veiny limbs. She’s wearing a garment mostly made of leather and steel and she’s holding a futuristic looking war hammer bigger than my head. The ugly woman’s puckered, sagging mouth grins at me with amusement as her eyes look me over. It feels like she’s ogling me. The handsome woman clears her throat to get my attention and in a primly authoritative voice asks, “What are you doing here?”

“Um? I’m looking for someone?”

The ugly woman with the space hammer laughs, “This is the right place for it!”

“Quite.” Evil Mrs. June Cleaver studies me judgmentally, her face unenthused by what she sees. For my covert rendezvous I’ve dressed in my best noir outfit: practical boots and tights, a black turtleneck tunic with a wide corset belt, and a dark grey jacket that's a cross between a cape, a poncho, and a trench coat. I have a black face mask with a stylistic red lipstick print over my mouthpussy and I'm wearing my hair up in a tight bun. When I dressed myself I thought my outfit was a smart mix of flexible and stylish, but now I'm worried it's entirely too theatrical. Less noir heroine and more Halley wearing a ridiculous costume. I blush behind my face mask, “I don’t mean that, uh, in a sexy way…”

“Then why are you wasting my time?” A platinum eyebrow raises dangerously.

“My, um, friend sent me? Gan Ceann?”

“I’m afraid I do not know your friend.”


Hammer lady smiles lewdly and raises her empty hand up for attention. “But I do. Your friend has already paid for your special fun. Most generously.”

“This is highly irregular…” Desk lady doesn’t like irregularity.

“Are you questioning me?” The woman with the hammer asks playfully.

TV mom stands very still and a nervous energy seems to radiate from the lounging sex workers. I quickly recalculate the power dynamics in the room. “Of course not, Matron.”

“See that you never do,” The old woman says without a shred of humor in her voice. “Now you,” she says, pointing her hammer at me.

“Halley,” I say.

The old woman laughs and the desk lady sniffs and looks skyward. “Now Halley, as a guest, I’ll have to ask you to lose the cloak and mask. And you’ll have to leave your Keyband here at the front desk.”

I reach up and touch my face mask. “I’d really rather keep the mask on… I have… a face thing…”

The old woman taps the flat of her hammer against her open hand. “I really must insist darling, the only masks allowed inside are the ones we provide. And your friend didn’t pay for that sort of playtime.” The ugly woman leers, “I’m sure it isn’t anything we haven’t seen before.”

I blush and my heart starts to race, I really don’t want to take my mask off in front of all these people. I take a deep breath, ball my fists, stand up tall, think about how I can convince her to change her mind. The Matron just smirks at me while she brandishes her hammer. Fuck. “No way you can make an exception for me?” The Matron smiles and shakes her head, “Darling.” Fuck. Okay Halley, you can do this. If anyone is going to be accepting it'll be a bunch of sex workers. They all know what a pussy looks like. I unlatch my Keyband, and drop it into a pocket in my trench cape. Breathing a deep sigh, I peel my mask off my pussymouth and thrust it into another pocket. I close my eyes and count to three, and when I open them everyone in the room is looking at the cunt on my face. I feel my cheeks burn with shame as I bundle my jacket into Desk Lady’s unenthused arms.

The Matron blows a whistle. “Shit, I stand corrected! That is something I’ve never seen before!”

“Indeed,” the woman at the desk agrees.

The old woman studies me again, tilting her head like a director. “You know if you ever wanted a change in careers, I think you’ve got a future in the industry.” She leers obscenely, “With a face like that, you’ll fit right in!”

I wince, “I’ll… take that into consideration?”

The Matron guffaws, and the woman at the desk looks unimpressed. “Aceaia, can you please escort Halley to see Halley.”

“Yes Matron.” The woman with the too big eyes and the flowing gown stands up. As she slips out of the lounging pretties, I notice her gown is diaphanous and nearly transparent, showing off the outline of her thin body, small breasts, and narrow hips. I can clearly see the dark circles of her large nipples and the stark outline of a black g-string. Her hair is dark and wavy, center parted and long, and her enormous dark eyes drink in the world like pools with hidden depths. “Please follow me,” she says in a soft voice.

I turn to follow her, but hear Matron make a throat clearing sound behind me. I turn to look and the Matron makes a V with the fingers of her empty hand, holds it to her lips, and wags her tongue through the gap. I blush and look pointedly away as I follow my guide.

“I’m sorry,” Aceaia says gently, “Matron is a bit of a sadist.”

I blow out a deep breath and make my hands relax, “Lead on.”

Aceaia takes me down a corridor with recessed red lights, smooth metal wall panels, and thick sound muffling carpet. As we walk I study the back of the slender woman and see a skinny flat bum above thin legs. My guide is pretty, but nowhere near as sexually boosted as the other Sexbox women. I’m finding it hard to imagine she’s a sex worker. Maybe she works in Sexual Human Resources or something? “What do you do here?”

“Hmm?” Aceaia glances back at me, her huge eyes looking through me. “Oh,” She giggles. “I guess I don’t look much like the other girls do I?”

“Not really?”

“I’m a sex worker.” Aceaia smiles serenely, “I have a Knack.”


“I possess one of the Ancient Talents.” She gestures at my face, “Clearly you’re familiar with Shaping.”

I blush, “This wasn’t… but yes, I know Shaping.”

Aceaia nods, “I’m an Empath. I can sense the emotions and desires of other people, and a little of their mind.”

“Oh, that must be useful in… this business.”

Aceaia giggles, “It’s certainly fun with a lover, but I seldomly actually have sex with clients. I’m more like a naughty therapist, or a sexual explorer that helps repressed clients unlock their true desires. I help them find what they want and empower them to act on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a favourite example was this sweet little man who had a secret balloon fetish. When I uncovered it he was so adorably embarrassed, but I worked with him to move past his shame and to embrace his kink. His fetish was so harmless and cute, and I think I helped him realize that.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Aceaia bites her lip and smiles impishly, “I also played balloon games with him. I printed out colourful balloons, blew them up as full as I could, then made a big pantomime about being afraid of them popping. Then…” She mimes holding up a balloon in one hand and makes a lance with the fingers of her other. Then she thrusts her finger into the space occupied by her imaginary balloon, “Pop! And I’d do a little shriek and the client would be sitting there masturbating his little heart out.”

I smile with my eyes, “That sounds really silly! How did you stay in the moment and not just giggle?”

Aceaia blushes, “Part of the Empathy Knack is I experience my client's desire, so I end up really getting off on their kink. I love helping people, but experiencing the sexual thrill of others is a big part of why I enjoy my work.” She smiles playfully and shrugs, “I’m basically the galaxy's greatest Service Dom: I can sense what the client wants and I literally climax from fulfilling their desires.”

“So you’ve tried a lot of wild things?”

“Oh yes! I’ll try just about anything once for a client. Well, except for pain and humiliation play. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I get psychic feedback from the pain which is a big turnoff for me.” She nods at a woman dressed in a black latex swimsuit and rubber belts covered in sharp metal spikes. Her face is mostly hidden by a black hood and she’s carrying a paddle flecked with blood. “There’s no shortage of doms here, so I just connect masochistic clients with someone happy to hurt them. Consensually.”

“I see,” I stare at the latex clad dom. She catches me looking and smiles thinly with her blood red lips. She tilts her head and poses a little, as if asking if I want to come play with her. I feel my face blush and pussy warm a little, it’s not a completely unattractive offer although I could live without the bloody paddle. I shake my head and hurry after Aceaia. The dom moues thoughtfully before continuing on her way.

Aceaia stops and opens a wall panel, which is some sort of hidden doorway, and beckons me into another hallway. Where the previous corridor was atmospheric and polished, this new hallway has the rough improvisational construction of Flotsam. Bare lightbulbs hang from the ceiling and the walls are made from colour speckled cinder blocks of compressed plastic. We pass an open public room inhabited by off-duty sex workers and I take a peek. I spot a tall slender woman with absolutely enormous yard-long feet, curled up in a chair painting her expansive toenails. A pair of identical twins play a board game that looks a lot like chess, apparently oblivious to their nudity. A person who looks like a living sex doll with a big O-shaped mouth and pink rubber skin has their mechanical arm removed and appears to be cleaning out the joint socket. We’ve clearly moved from the public face to the truth behind the facade.  Aceaia turns right at a junction and leads us down a corridor lined with doors.

"So what can you read about me?" I ask.

"I don't have to read you." Aceaia turns briefly and her dark eyes are like gravity, "Your desires are written clearly across your face."

I blush and raise a hand to cover my mouthpussy while the Empath giggles. "This wasn't exactly voluntary..."

"But you like it." Aceaia stops in front of a closed door and knocks gently. "Besides, you aren't the first Halley I've met, so I already know something about your interests." She presses her ear against the door listening for something, then nods apparently in satisfaction. "Speaking of which, here we are." Aceaia works the mechanism and opens the door. "Voila!"

"Oh fuck me." Laying naked and hogtied on the cushioned floor is another me.

"Halley you have a visitor," Aceaia says brightly. The trussed up Halley wriggles pathetically and manages to scoot herself around so she can see me. Her arms and legs are tightly wrapped in bindings made of black latex and are pulled up behind her back so that she's almost totally helpless. Another black latex strap is thrust across her mouth forcing her jaw open and muffling her speech. Her violet eyes go wide in recognition and her nostrils flare in surprise. Her gagged mouth just continues to drool.

"Um, hi? I'm Halley-24." I wave a little, feeling self-conscious for both of us.

The strap gagging Halley unfurls organically, separating itself into two black latex tentacles rooted in the black latex collar coating Halley's neck and throat. Halley works her jaw like she's trying to get feeling back into it. "Hi," she says, while still hogtied. "I'm Halley-16."

"Can I maybe untie you? I have some questions to ask, and this is sort of awkward..."

"Says the version of me with a pussy on her face." Halley-16 chirps as two new tentacles sprout from the back of her collar, crisscross over her head, and grab onto the tentacles that were formerly her gag. The tentacles fuse together and pull tight, locking Halley's head in place.


"Anyway, I'm afraid there's not much either of us can do about my bindings." Halley-16 wiggles to find a more comfortable position. "My restraints have a mind of their own because, well, they have a mind of their own." She grimaces as her head is yanked back forcefully at an awkward angle. "By the way, meet Halley-9."

"What?" I can see entirely too much of precisely one Halley in this small bare room... "I don't know what you mean?"

"The Symbiote."

What the fuck!? "You mean your living bondage gear is..."

"Is one of us, yeah." Halley-16 winces as she tries to nod and the restraints on her head pull tighter. The restraints that are another version of me, which are growing out of yet another me. Fuck! "Halley-9 was the host of an alien lifeform and then they sort of merged. And then I became the new host of Halley-9." Halley-16 is breathing pretty hard and... is she turned on right now? Is she enjoying this?

"What the fuck!?"

Halley-16 smiles, "It's kind of a long story."

"What the actual fuck!"

"Oh calm down. I know it's weird, but again: you do have a pussy for a face."

That stops me for a moment, and my voice does the prosthetic equivalent of an open mouthed pause. I sigh, "It's also kind of a long story."

Aceaia clears her throat, "I believe that's my cue to depart."

"Wait, you're leaving?" I don't want to be left alone with these Halleys yet.

"Yes. I was only instructed to bring you here." Aceaia smiles impishly, "I stayed longer to see how you each reacted, which I must say was delightful." She giggles, and both me and Halley-16 blush. "It was a pleasure to meet you Halley, and Halley, just call if you need anything." The Empath nods to us and slips out through the door, closing it behind her.

"Let's chat," Halley-16 says. I see her arm and leg restraints have separated so that each limb is individually bound instead of hogtied together. Halley-16's arms are now wrapped so that her forearms are lashed tightly to her upper arms, and her legs are bent so that her calves are glued to the backs of her thighs. Halley-16 manages to lift herself onto her elbows and knees like a clumsy quadruped and crawls towards the corner of her room. As she crawls I notice the black latex Symbiote skin extends down her entire back and that a tentacle reaches down around the crack of her ass and along the cleft of her pussy. The Symbiote that is Halley-9, I remind myself with a shiver. Halley-16 reaches the corner and awkwardly props herself up in a sitting position where the walls meet. Her bound legs stick out below like partially amputated limbs and her shortened arms hang uselessly by her sides. Now that she's sitting up, I can see latex tentacles wrap all across her front like a harness that connects her collar to her spine and hips and crotch, squeezing and lifting her bare breasts. I can also clearly see the Symbiotic tentacle that is wedged deep into the cleavage of her labia links up with the rest of the harness. The whole thing looks like tentacle-style Shibari. "Have a seat," Halley-16 says with a little gasp.

I find a spot along the wall that I judge is out of tentacle molestation range and sink down to the floor. The walls and floor of the room are cushioned like a padded cell and the temperature is uncomfortably warm. I feel myself start to sweat a little and tug at the turtleneck collar of my tunic "Sorry I reacted badly. It's just... all of us Halleys sure seem to end up in weird kinky places."

The restraints on Halley's head release and she rolls out her neck. Halley-16 looks at me and smiles playfully, "Sometimes I feel like we're just the playthings of an especially perverse God."

"Can we not talk about gods..."

"Touchy subject?"

"Let's just say my pussymouth was an unwanted souvenir from a cult."

"Ouch, I'm sorry." Halley-16 winces, "I was hoping you were just trying out something weird."

"Nope, and no trial run either; I'm afraid this face is forever" I shake my head and sigh, "But I'm learning to live with it."

"I'd give you a hug, but y'know." Halley-16 lifts up her bound arms and shrugs. "I'll maybe let you skip your story and just tell you ours?"

I eye-smile and nod, "Thanks."

"I guess it makes sense to start with Halley-9. Have you met a lot of other versions of us?"

"Yeah, I think about half?"

Halley-16 nods, "Halley-9 first apparated right after a run of tragedies and Clem was pretty fucked up. Halley-6 and Halley-7 were both missing and Halley-8 had just died, so it wasn't a very happy time on Flotsam when Halley-9 was decanted." She shakes her head, "When I appeared it was terrifying, but I had Clementine and Hank to guide me through it. Halley-9 had nobody except maybe Pussy, so she was pretty much on her own." Halley-16 pauses to wriggle while the tentacle in her pussy shifts and tightens. "Anyway, Halley-9 got the fuck out of there pretty quickly, resolved to build a quiet life for herself, and avoid whatever crap had befallen her three predecessors. Unfortunately an oblivious new Earthling wasn't super employable, so Halley ended up taking a job at the Sexbox as a maid." Halley-16 quirks an eyebrow at me, "Do you think being a maid in a brothel makes you a sex worker?"


"Like, hypothetically. Is cleaning up the aftermath of sex work a kind of sex work?"

"I dunno," I frown and pucker my labia together thoughtfully. "How racy is the outfit?"

"A little slutty, but not like a fetish costume."

"And this maid isn't playing like, a sexy game of cleanup with a french accent?"

"Mais non. Just hosing cum out of dungeons and playrooms after the magic happens."

"Then no? If she isn't having sex with clients or otherwise directly involved in the business of orgasms, then I don't think she is."

"Okay, but this maid is employed by a brothel and is integral to the business. So she's at least involved in the sex industry. So maybe a sex worker, right?"

"By that logic everyone employed by a brothel in any capacity is a sex worker. The kitchen staff, the cleaners, the accountant..."

"Exactly! Accounting is sex work!"

I laugh a little and shake my head, "Okay, but what's the point?"

"Nothing!" Halley-16 giggles, "Sorry, it's just something I think about sometimes. I have a lot of time on my bound hands..."

I smile with my eyes, "Apparently."

"So Halley-9 was working as a maid in the Sexbox and well, she couldn’t help but notice all of the kinky sex going on. She wanted to keep things professional, stay out of trouble, save some money, eventually find a more vanilla job, but…. you know what we like.”

I know exactly what she means, even if she wasn’t trussed up like a horny turkey. I’ve always enjoyed letting others take the initiative in the bedroom, of giving myself over to fulfilling their desires, whether out of nervousness or a drive to please. But deep down it’s more than that: I like feeling helpless and powerless, find it thrilling in a way that never really makes rational sense. Maybe it has to do with all the random chaos in my life, that submitting myself to someone else’s control feels like embracing a lack of power on my own terms. Or maybe I’m just a pervert. My mind flashes back to the one or two really good sessions I had with a dominant partner in college; angry beautiful Beth making me beg before she let me eat her out. And to all the times that Clem gamely tied me up; too gentle to really dominate me, but doing his best, and how fun it was even if it wasn’t quite perfect. I nod, if sexual power dynamics were a binary I was definitely a sub.

Halley-16 smiles, “It was kind of a kid in the candy store situation, so it was only a matter of time before Halley embraced her sweet tooth. She started to play with some of the doms she was friends with: bondage, humiliation, petplay, the works. The doms pushed her boundaries and she embraced it, I think because this was the one aspect of her life that Halley-9 felt she controlled.” Halley-16 pauses as the bindings on her arms and legs unpeel, freeing her limbs. She stretches out her arms and legs and sighs, working her hands and wrists. Her freedom is short lived, since the black Symbiote-stuff coating her forearms latches onto itself, gluing her forearms together in front of her, while the black latex on her lower legs do the same, fusing her shins. Black fluid oozes out of her wrists and flows over her hands like mittens, hobbling her fingers. Halley-16 smiles wryly, “Gotta change positions, otherwise things start to cramp up.”

“Honestly, I have no idea how you can hold any of these positions…”

“Practice, so much practice,” Halley says sweetly. “I could start teaching you, if you wanted.”

I blush and feel butterflies in my stomach and face. Why is this turning me on? Just say no. “Maybe later?” Slut.

Halley bites her lip hard enough to leave a mark, “I know what we like.”

“So Halley-9 was being a sub…” Excellent segue.

“Right, but she was still a maid, and the reality was that being a maid sucked. Sure she had her playtime, but she still had to hose cum out of dungeons and playrooms, and the pay for doing that was pretty bad. Especially compared to what the sex workers were making. So Halley-9 thought, what if I became a professional submissive? Surely there were doms out there looking to rent a playmate? She already worked in a brothel and played with sex workers, what was one more step down the path? So she went to Matron and asked if she could start selling her submissive services. Matron was fine with it as long as Halley kept doing the maid work, and so Halley-9 joined the sex industry. Except... Well, the thing about subs is there are a lot more of us than there are good doms. Halley managed to find a little work with clumsy beginners, but nowhere near enough to quit her day job."

"The market wasn't there."

"Exactly! But Halley-9 was invested in the plan, so she bit the bullet and went to Clementine for a makeover to step up her sex appeal. She did the usual things, had her breasts enlarged and her body toned and her face beautified, but she felt she needed more. For whatever reason she thought about Pony Play and just how weird and sexy Ponygirls were, and decided that maybe that could be her angle. So she had Clem make her feet into hooves and give her a horsey tail and ears. Then Halley went back to work as a sub, doing the usual stuff, but also Pony Play things like pull a cart around and prance." Halley-16 smiles, "That helped a bit, she definitely found a few regular clients and was having fun with her new body, but she still wasn't making enough to quit the maid business."

"So the Pony Play plan didn’t work out?”

Halley-16 shakes her head, "Nope. The problem was that the real Sexbox money was in being a dominatrix. Halley-9 needed to cross the BDSM aisle if she ever hoped to make a living. Halley decided she could maybe learn to be a dom, treat it like a work task and fake her way through it. Approach tying someone up and humiliating them like scrubbing a particularly difficult stain. How hard could it be?” Halley-16 wets her lips, “She embarked on a crash course in domineering: bugged her dom friends for lessons in technique and their advice, took notes on what was demanded of her when she subbed, audited some sessions as a trussed up observer to watch the entire scenario play out. When she felt she was ready, she tried to run a few sessions with volunteers."

I thought back to my own extremely embarrassing attempts to dominate Clem when he wanted to try being a bottom. I winced, "It didn't go well, did it?"

"Not at all! Halley-9 was absolutely dogshit at being a dom! She might have learned her knots, proper paddle technique, and some useful words and phrases, but once she was in the room with a sub she was just too timid to really command anyone. She was hopeless! Halley-9 knew she was never going to cut it as a dom. Which is where the Symbiote came into things..." The harness on Halley-16's chest sprouts new tentacles, latches onto her bound arms, and yanks them up in front of her like she’s praying. Halley-16 cranes her neck a little to rest her chin on her Symbiote-clasped hands. "A thing about Matron is that she collects strange kinky things. She collects people here at the Sexbox, but she also loves objects and artifacts and really anything that piques her curiosity. So when a Deep Space trader presented her with a Symbiotic alien lifeform that feeds on Orgone sexual life energy, she just had to add it to her collection. But the thing about a Symbiote is that it needs a host, otherwise it's just an inert black puddle, which isn't at all what Matron paid for. So when Halley-9 absolutely failed as a dominatrix, Matron saw an opportunity to solve two problems at once: she suggested Halley-9 become the Symbiote’s host. That way Halley-9 would feel the sexual, predatory hunger of the Symbiote and could harness that to dominate her clients. She in turn would still satisfy her submissive urges, because she'd be subjugating herself to the Symbiote’s appetites. A mutually beneficial sexual relationship, Matron had called it. Was it dangerous? Probably. But as long as Halley-9 kept the Symbiote fed with Orogone, it should be fine."

“And Matron would get to test out her toy,” I think of that terrifying old woman with the futuristic war hammer and shiver. "That sounds like a really bad offer..."

Halley-16 taps her chin on her bound hands in an abbreviated nod. "Halley-9 knew it too. But she was also really tired of hosing cum out of dungeons and playrooms and being broke. This was obviously a huge risk, but if it meant she could finally dominate clients, then it would be worth it. So she worked herself up to it and went back to Matron." Another new black tentacle squirms out from Halley-16's crotch and wraps around her bound ankles, pulls her feet back against her ass, and presses Halley's knees into her elbows. New Symbiotic ropes quickly bind her thighs and upper arms together so she's stuck elbow to knee. Halley-16 gasps and starts to tip over, so I reach out and push her back upright. "Thanks," she says, blushing.

"Of course," I say, blushing back.

"Anyway," Halley says, "the fateful day came and Halley-9 merged with the Symbiote. Matron brought her to the vault filled with her collection of kinky oddities and showed her the large glass tank that contained the Dormant Symbiote. Matron was giddy, almost dancing in her excitement, and Halley was nervous as fuck, worried she was about to make a huge mistake. Matron removed the heavy glass lid of the tank and instructed Halley to strip naked. Halley took off her clothes slowly with shaking hands, eyes locked on that inky fluid mass, her mind racing through the pros and cons, the risks and rewards, her doubts. Matron seized Halley by her bare shoulders, gripped them tightly, and told her sternly to get in the tank.” Halley-16 smiles thinly, “And that was the push she needed. Halley-9 nodded, took a deep calming breath, and with a boost up from Matron, she climbed into the Symbiote tank as if it were a large bathtub. For an uncertain moment Halley-9 floated in the black liquid, but then the Symbiote became alive and dragged her under, submersing her within itself. She was blind and helpless and it felt like she was about to drown, so she panicked and fought, but the liquid was suddenly strong and constrictive, overpowering her. As the air escaped her lungs, Halley-9 felt the Symbiote adhere to her, flow into her pores and openings, root there, coat her completely inside and out, in her mouth and bowls and lungs and pussy. She felt them merging. And then Halley-9 felt a presence in her mind, an inhuman intellect that was starving and something predatory like horny.”

Halley-16 pauses and wets her lips, “Halley-9 opened her eyes to find herself laying in the bottom of the empty tank. She raised a hand and saw it was completely coated in what looked like black latex. She stood on black shiny hooves and climbed unsteadily out of the tank, was led to an old fashioned gilded mirror, and saw herself. Standing in the reflection was a beautiful curvaceous ponygirl coated in the shiny black skin of the Symbiote: black hooves, powerful long legs, wide hips and large weightless breasts, a harshly gorgeous face, equine ears, a black tail and mane, all totally encased in what looked like polished black latex. Halley-9 touched herself, felt the slick sensation of her Symbiote coated hands slide along the too smooth new skin of her thighs and breasts. She shivered and gasped and felt the new mental presence in her mind drink in her sexual thrill. Halley closed her eyes, slid her hand down along her belly, and gently touched her pussy. She gasped and her tail twitched and the Symbiote writhed in her mind, delighted and greedy for more. Panting, Halley obliged it, black fingers plunging into her slick black latex pussy, stroking herself, stroking them, while her other black hand kneaded her heavy black latex breasts, desperate to feed the beast that had become part of her. Matron just smiled and laughed, delighted her plan had worked."

I look at the black tentacles Halley-9 has become and frown, "It looks like the plan didn't work out so well for Halley."

"Actually it did, at least for a while. Halley-9 found the Symbiote really did hunger for the sexual ecstasy of Submisives, and through her connection with it, she found she hungered for it too. Maybe more importantly she could sense the Orgone of her clients, could intuit what they enjoyed, and then got a big hit of positive reinforcement when she delivered their masochistic desires.” Halley-16 smiles lovingly, “She got really, really good at being a dominatrix. And she learned to love it too; whether by all the reward training or by a gradual mental merging with the Symbiote, Halley-9 sexually changed from a sub to a dom.”

“So Halley-9 became an amazing black latex ponygirl dominatrix.”

“Exactly, one of the best in the business and wildly successful!”

“But it didn’t last?”

“No.” Halley-16 shrugs as much as her restrained body allows, “But it did work for 7 Halleys.”

“What? Did you just use us as a unit of time?”

Halley-16 grins, “Do you like it? I was thinking and decided that ‘The Halley’, the time between clone generations, was the most meaningful way for us to measure our lives.”

I blink, that’s preposterous but it does have a certain logic to it. “You aren’t wrong…” I sigh, “Our life is so weird.”

“Isn’t it!?” Halley-16 says brightly with a big smile, her arms and legs bound awkwardly against her.

“So what went wrong? With Halley-9, I mean.”

“Actually this is where I enter the story.” Halley-16 smiles impishly and wiggles, “I existed for this part.”

Halley’s wiggle threatens to turn into another tip over, so I reach out to steady my trussed up clone, but then thinking better of it, I scooch over and loop an arm over Halley-16’s shoulder and let her rest against me. “Is this better?” I ask with a blush.

“Much better,” Halley nuzzles into me and smiles, blushing herself. “I appeared in Clem’s apartment and saw Pussy, freaked out and fainted, woke up to meet Clementine, freaked out and fainted again, and then was bundled off to be debriefed by Hank. Which is where I stayed until Freya sent me to meet Halley-15 as part of my journey into personhood or whatever.” Halley-16 looks at me sideways, “Have you met Halley-15 yet?”

I do some mental counting and, “No, not yet. Why?” Oh Jesus, what has she done to herself?

Halley giggles, “Let’s just say Halley-15 has some *strong* opinions…”


“Well, everything as far as I can tell, but when we met it was mostly about Clem and Hank and how she thought they were both toxic dirtbags.” Halley rolls her eyes, “I get the sense that she maybe made some sexy mistakes with them.”

I nod, “That’ll happen…”

“Ohmygosh! Clem!?”

“God I wish! Hank…”

“That dog!” Halley giggles, “Was it good!?”

“The sex was great, but overall I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Sorry.” Halley snuggles up to me and I get the sense it’s her tied up version of a hug. “As much as Halley-15 sounded jilted, it did make me reevaluate spending time around Clem and Hank until I figured myself out a bit. I needed space to learn who I was, y’know? I crashed with a friend of Freya’s and did odd jobs and just kind of wandered around Flotsam trying to take it all in. At some point I decided to meet all the Halleys I could find; kind of an exercise in alternate-self discovery.”

I squirm a little and look away, “Some real cautionary tales in there…”

She smiles impishly, “I didn’t get that far. I ended up visiting Halley-9 almost right away and well, something just clicked for me.” Haley-16 lifts her head off her forcibly clasped hands and rests it against my shoulder. “I remember walking up to the Sexbox for the first time, seeing the big black cube, and being afraid of it. I couldn’t believe that one of my clones lived and worked inside. Which was a feeling that only grew when I came inside and saw all the sex workers,” Halley-16 laughs. “Then the Madam saw me with my simple printed clothes and my bewildered eyes and judged that I didn’t belong. She demanded that I explain myself, and I just stammered, awkward under her harsh gaze, twisting my shirt in my hands, and was almost ready to flee when Matron strutted in with that big hammer of hers. She instantly recognized me, smiled that lascivious smile, and asked if I was here to see Halley. I nodded, blushing and too flustered to speak. Matron licked her lips, told me Halley-9 was with a client, but that I could wait in her quarters. Then she told me she had a job opening for a new maid.”

“She really doesn’t waste time, does she?”

“Nope,” Halley says with a little grin. “I was led to Halley-9’s quarters to wait for her. I was stunned, Halley’s room was super fancy. Picture a huge four poster with built in bondage restraints, plush lounges, a mini-bar, purple velvet draped everywhere, and sex toys and whips and restraints scattered all around the room. It was the fanciest bedroom I’d ever been in, and by far the kinkiest. I couldn’t imagine how a version of me could live in such depraved luxury. I was still homeless and couch surfing, remember.” Halley’s hair is cut into a short chin length bob, but it’s fallen onto her face, so I brush it aside and tuck it behind her ear. She leans against me and sighs happily, and I’m aware of how warm her nude body is in my arms. “Halley-9 was really very successful, and because the Sexbox has such generous terms, she was actually quite wealthy. Matron is a perverse monster, but she takes good care of her playthings.”

I look around the bare, padded cell Halley-16 lives in and frown skeptically, “And yet you live here…”

Halley-16 giggles, “What do you mean? I love my quarters! I had them customized just for me. When you spend all day in distress, what’s the point of having furniture? It just gets in the way, either something you can’t use or something to fall off. A padded room is way more practical: no matter where you’re tied up and how awkwardly you’re bound, you’ve got something soft to lay on. And since I’m naked all the time, I have the temperature cranked up enough to be comfortable.” She smiles up at me, “Plus it fits my whole nude bondage lifestyle aesthetic, don’t you think?”

I smile back at her, cheeks tugging on my labia, and fondly jostle her a bit, “You’re amazing.”

“I didn’t have to wait long before Halley-16 walked in,” Hayley says quickly while blushing. “I can still remember the first time I saw her: the way the light reflected off her polished black skin, the clop of her hooves on the smooth concrete floor, the weighty bounce of her perfect breasts, and the swish of her tail.” Hayley bites her lip, “The way her eyes seem to look right through me, calculating. I remember sitting up taller, putting my hands in my lap, arching my back, aware of how drab I looked in comparison. She walked across the room slowly, one elegant prancing step after another, arms folded behind her back, hips swaying. My eyes drank in the commanding unhurried way she moved, like I was waiting on her convenience. I glanced away to see dildos and paddles and chains. My mouth went dry and I felt butterflies in my stomach. She sat across from me with perfect posture, rested the riding crop she’d been carrying casually across her thighs.” Halley blushes, “I know this is going to sound fucked up since she was my clone and all, but I was so turned on. My heart was pounding and my pussy was wet. I didn’t know what I wanted exactly, but I wanted it so badly.”

“Let the Halley whose never fucked her clone before cast the first stone…”

Haley-16 snorted a laugh and shakes her head. “The thing was Halley-9 could tell how aroused I was, could sense the burning Orgone in me through the Symbiote. She knew I wanted her, or at least what she represented. But instead of striking me with her crop and tying me to her bed frame, she introduced herself. She told me about herself, about the Sexbox, about the improbable turns of her life. We didn’t fuck that first day, even if we both knew I wanted to.”

Hayley-16 wets her lips and wiggles a bit against her restraints. “Matron caught me again as I was leaving. I was still so turned on, desperate to find somewhere private, yank down my shabby pants and underwear, and fuck my own brains out. I stammered, blushed, tried to run away, but Matron could almost taste the arousal coming off me, saw that whatever was kinked in Halley-9 was also kinked in me, and knew she'd found another toy for her collection. And so she repeated her offer: that I should come work as a maid in the Sexbox." Hayley-16 swallowed, "Despite Halley-15’s warnings to avoid all Halley-related drama, despite knowing that Matron was untrustworthy, despite sensing that the Sexbox might be dangerous, I said yes. I was lonely and bored and tired of couch surfing in a nice stranger’s home. A job hosing cum out of dungeons and play rooms was a real honest job, and one that came with quarters to live in. It wasn't perfect, but it could be a start." Halley-16 grins, "And fuck it, I was horny and the Sexbox was exhilirating! I wasn't sure I'd ever actually want to fuck my own clone, but I knew I wanted to explore this place, to try and find someone to play with. It was the kid in the candy store all over again. So yeah, I totally took the job."

"And I'm guessing it didn't take long for you to take advantage of it."

"Nope!" Halley-16 giggles, "And it was with Halley-9 too. It was just too obvious that there was something there. She was a sexy, powerful dominatrix and we both knew I was a total slut for submission. The fact we were clones just made the whole thing more transgressive and dirty and exciting. I just wanted her so badly, and she and the Symbiote literally hungered for the Orgone of my desire. We didn't stand a chance."

"How was it?"

"Everything I hoped it would be," Halley says, making deliberate eye contact with me. "The first time we fucked, she chained me to her bed using some sort of high tech safety restraint. I lay spread-eagle on her huge mattress, trembling, as she paced thoughtfully around the room, her hooves clopping as she decided what to do with me. Halley-9 fetched a cart from somewhere, something between a torturer's tool box and a medical cart, and brought it next to the bed. I heard her rattle around with it, make thoughtful noises, and I tried to crane my body to see what she was doing, but found she was stubbornly out of sight. Eventually she slowly clopped around the bed until I could see her looming over me. She smiled down at me hungrily and quietly asked if I was ready to play. I gasped and nodded, and she went to work.” Halley-16 swallows hard, “She teased me for what felt like hours. She stroked me, pinched me, and poked me with something that felt very hot and something that felt frigidly cold. She hurt me carefully. She applied tools and toys, crude and futuristic, and drove me to the shaking whining humping edge of orgasm, but never let me tumble over to completion. She left my mouth ungagged so we could both hear me gasp and moan and beg and plead. After what seemed like forever she climbed up on top of me, straddled my face with her slick thighs, and pressed the shiny black pungent wet folds of her labia to my lips. Halley demanded that I pleasure my Mistress. And I did so desperately, furiously, too eager to make my Mistress happy so that she might finally let me cum." Halley is starting to pant a little and wiggle, "I made her come so hard, her ponygirl thighs crushing my head, her equine tail lashing my breasts and stomach, her mouth letting out an unexpected whinny. I was so excited! I was finally going to get my turn! But then she climbed off of me and trotted out of the room to see a client, leaving me tied up there on the bed, face wet with her sex, heart hammering, and pussy pounding with need. I gasped, tried to writhe, tried to rub my legs together, tried to do anything to get myself off, but my bonds were too tight. Never tight enough to hurt me, they were too high-tech smart for that, but never loose enough that I could touch myself either. Which just made me hornier: being all worked up and helpless like that, totally at her mercy, was just so fucking hot! My body felt like it was on fire! I need to come so fucking bad!" Halley-16 gasped, "And the feeling didn't go away. The longer I lay there, the longer it went on, simmering, throbbing, grinding. I have no idea how long I waited there in frustrated sexual purgatory, but eventually Halley-9 came back. She casually released my restraints and I curled into a ball, hands immediately flying to my cunt, fucking myself until I orgasmed again and again and again, a chain reaction of built up need expending itself." Halley-16 takes a deep breath that makes her body shudder, "When I came back to myself she was standing over me watching, one of her hands gently rubbing her cunt. She looked at me with a smirk and told me next time I wasn't allowed to touch myself without permission. I shivered and said, Yes Mistress."

I can feel my heart beating faster too, and warm tingles in my stomach and face. “That… does sound pretty fun.”

“That was just the first time! And with a first time like that, I was obviously going back for more.” Halley-16 waggled her eyebrows. “I quickly fell into a rhythm of hosing cum out of dungeons and playrooms in the early morning... which I gotta say, being a maid in a brothel is way more work than you'd think. Matron has exacting standards on just how clean she wants the Sexbox to be, and sapients release so many fluids during sex. Even with futuristic cleaning supplies, it was a real hassle trying to keep everything clean enough. I mean, some of the more exotic rooms in this place are kept as sterile as an operating theatre,” Halley shakes her head. “But anyway, I'd do my maid work in the morning, and play with Halley in the afternoon before she became busy with her Clients. I was kind of her Orgone lunchtime snack." Halley squirms a little against her Symbiote restraints, maybe uncomfortable with how long she's been stuck in this pose. "The thing about having a really good Mistress is that it's a bit like a drug; it gets addicting and you find yourself needing bigger doses more often. It wasn't long until I was spending every free moment being Halley's sex slave. She was always hungry and I was always eager to give her what she needed, always willing to try something new." Halley-16 smiles and bites her lip, "We tried so many things together, explored the depths of our erotic imaginations, pushed the envelope! It was wild! And it wasn't just sex; Halley and I became, well, complicated. She was my Mistress and my lover and also something like a big sister. I’m not sure it was romantic exactly, but we were definitely more than just friends with kinky benefits." Halley shrugs her shoulders as much as she can, "Whatever we were, I loved her. Love her still."

Which I guess brings us to the big question: "So what went wrong?"

"The thing about parasites is they eventually eat their hosts." Halley-16 shakes her head, "At first Halley-9 was able to keep the Symbiote sated, between her clients and her own sexual energy she could meet the modest needs of the newly roused alien. But as time went by the Symbiote grew hungrier; the more Orgone she fed it, the more the creature desired. Halley had to dominate more Clients and perform kinkier sex acts to generate the energy the Symbiote demanded. And then as she merged more completely with the Symbiote, she stopped being a source of Orgone for it, her sexual energy just became part of its own reserves, it's appetites  inseparable from her own. Suddenly she experienced just how hungry the Symbiote was, just how hungry she was. She became more aggressive and demanding, started to push herself and her Submissives even further. But it was never enough." Halley-16 sighs, "The Symbiote is a creature of pure appetite. It's endless, enduring, inescapable. Eventually it will devour everything. Halley-9 wasn't the first person to merge with the Symbiote, or even its first dominatrix host. And she wasn't fated to be the last host either..."

"What happened?"

"The Symbiote merged with her completely."

"Jesus Christ."

"It started slowly, too slowly to notice. Halley-9 and the Symbiote were already permanently fused, but the borders between them were breaking down. At first the Symbiote was mostly just an inky black skin, but gradually the creature began to replace more of her, consume her human parts into itself and replace them. The hungrier the Symbiote became, the faster the process went, until it became obvious that something was wrong. When Halley-9 slept, she found parts of herself would lose their rigidity, become soft and rubbery, and deform in the night. At first it was a symptom, a curiosity of her new form, but it got steadily worse and became a hindrance. By the time I entered the picture, parts of Halley-9 would melt completely when she rested, her limbs dissolving into the tarry black liquid of the Symbiote. She had to sleep in a tank to contain herself, and every morning I'd have to climb in with her and sit on her face or masturbate just to give her the Orgone energy to pull herself back together. It was obvious she was losing the battle with the Symbiote."

"Was there no way to help?"

Halley-16 shakes her head, "This was always how it was going to end, it was only ever a question of how long it would take. The Symbiote always eventually merges with its host and returns to its dormant liquid state, everything else is just delaying the inevitable. I guess we could have lined up a horde of Clients, sent Halley-9 on a sexual marathon of perversion, and maybe bought some more time. But Halley was also losing control, her desperate hunger for Orgone was clouding her judgement and making her far too aggressive to be a good dom. It wasn't about serving the Client's desires, it was about feeding her own insatiable appetites, which, well, some sapients like that, but eventually Halley had trouble respecting Safewords, and that was unacceptable. The Sexbox operates by Rules, and Matron could not allow one of her doms to violate the most fundamental rule of all. Matron benched Halley-9, forbade her from seeing Clients, and regretfully sealed her fate. I did everything I could, tried to be a strong enough sex slave to feed the Symbiote myself, but well, the inevitable..." Halley-16 takes a big deep, calming breath, and lets it out slowly. "One morning I woke up to find Halley-16 had fully dissolved into the Symbiote. The merging process was complete."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry." I give Halley-16 a big hug which she gratefully nuzzles into.

"It wasn't really the end though," Halley says after a minute. "She didn't really die. The Symbiote imprints itself on the mind of its hosts; everyone who has ever merged with the Symbiote lives on inside it. Halley-9 is still alive, just as part of the Symbiote." Halley licks her lips, "When the Symbiote fully merged with Halley's body, it also merged with her mind, and with the way imprinting works, Halley's mind became the dominant consciousness of the now hostless Symbiote. In some ways the Symbiote was mostly Halley-9 in a weird new body."

"That's good..." I say.

Halley laughs a little ruefully, "But what the hell compelled me to become the new host? Well, the other thing about the way imprinting works, is that it fades over time. The Symbiote isn't like a parasitic computer, it's just a hungry alien. It wasn't actually designed to store information. A freshly merged host mind will be almost completely intact, but over time the minds inside the Symbiote dissolve and merge into a gestalt, a process that only goes faster when the Symbiote is left dormant and unfed. Which meant that Halley-9 was alive in there, but if we left the Symbiote to languish without a host, her mind would fade away, becoming just another murmur in the chorus. To save her consciousness we needed to quickly find the Symbiote a new host, one who could keep the Symbiote fed and energized to preserve Halley-9."

"So Matron talked you into becoming the new Host?"

"No, she tried to stop me. Told me she'd been wrong with Halley-9, that the Symbiote was too dangerous, that she didn't want to be responsible for both our fates." Halley-16 smiled, "But I was in love and cared too much about Halley not to do everything I could to save her. And so I climbed into the tank. Climbed into her."

Halley-16 shivers, "How can I describe it? It was a little like slipping into a warm bath, except the Symbiote didn’t feel like water; it was too thick, too resistant. It wasn’t sticky though, wasn’t like tar or latex, it was more like flesh made out of a viscous fluid that flowed around me like a whole body warm embrace. I felt myself sink into it, or maybe felt it envelope me, my legs, my hips, my stomach and chest and arms and shoulders and head until only my face broke the inky black surface. It felt like being embedded in wax that wasn’t quite solid yet. I floated there, aware that this time the Symbiote, that Halley, was waiting for me to make up my mind. I took a deep, calming breath, aware that I was balanced on a knife edge, and that once I dunked myself under there would be no going back. My lips trembled and I felt that barely caged anxiety that’s always there threaten to break free and make me panic, make me run away back to a trailer park on another world.” Halley-16 makes eye contact with me and nods, “We Halleys spent so much of our time on Earth trapped by worrying about what could happen that we never really dared to do anything important. My time with Halley-9, the sexual scenarios we explored, taught me that I could find the limits of my fear and push past them, that I could find transcendence if I were just brave enough not to forfeit. What was the moment in the tank but a continuation of that? A much higher stakes version of our sex games, one where my submission could be deadly, but the price of not consenting would be the death of my Mistress, my Halley. And faced with that, how could I say no?” Halley-16 smiles beautifully past her bound praying hands, like a kinky angel. “I took one more breath, closed my eyes, and sank beneath the surface. I felt the Symbiote, felt Halley, flex and contract around me, smother me. I felt her push into my skin and body like… you know that feeling when you peel a bandaid off? The tug and prickle of adhesive? It was like the exact opposite of that, like shards of glue anchoring into me. Or maybe it was like getting a tattoo made of water, but without the sharp buzz of pain. The sensation was strongest on my arms and legs and along my back, running from my tail bone, up along my spine and neck, to the back of my skull. I gasped and breathed in Halley, felt some of her flow into my lungs, adhere to my insides. It felt like drowning. Despite everything I felt myself start to panic, some animal part of me afraid of a wet grave. I started to thrash and fight to free myself, to get my head above the surface, but instead found myself laying naked at the bottom of the empty tank. I was gasping, heaving like a fish in a boat. I sat up, feeling oddly the same as when I went under. I held up my hands, and saw my pale skin and pink palms. I frowned, I’d expected to be encased in Halley, and I wondered if it hadn’t worked, if maybe Halley had rejected me? But then I saw my wrists were coated in what looked like polished black latex, what looked like the Symbiote. I held up one of my arms and studied it closely, looked into the shiny black surface and saw that it moved, rippled like it was alive. I cautiously touched my wrist with a bare finger and watched Halley flow over it, grasp it weakly, and tug. And then I felt Halley’s mind touch me wordlessly, because I don’t think she has language anymore, but I sensed her recognize me, felt her love and adoration wash over me. I smiled and laughed, tears in my eyes, it had worked! I had rescued my Mistress! I was elated and giddy, but then all at once I felt Halley’s hunger and desire, and the predatory demands of the Symbiote we were both bonded to. It was pure appetite, endless and enduring and inescapable. I gasped in awe of it, suddenly afraid of what I’d gotten myself into. But then I felt Halley again, felt her cool calm determination, felt her demand my obedience in sating her, and just like a hundred times before Halley’s command let me push past my fear to find the other side. I knew what I needed to do.”

“My Mistress needed me to satisfy her, my Inescapable Mistress who was forever bound to me. I was permanently her servant, her slave, forever shackled to her hunger. I felt waves of excitement ripple through my body, my mouth went dry and my breath caught in my throat, my heart started to pound in my chest. My Mistress was hungry and she demanded that I feed her. I lay on my back in the tank, brought my hands to my tits, cupped them, squeezed them, pinched my nipples between my fingers, and moaned. I felt Halley writhe in my mind like a fish chasing a snack, but could tell she wanted more. I bit my lip, grabbed my hard nipples and twisted them, gasping in shock at the pain while Halley thrilled at the burst of sensation. More she seemed to demand, so I did it again and again, whimpering at the wonderfully exciting pain of it. Halley tingled like an orgasm in my mind, pleased but hungry for more. I shuddered, panting, pussy hot and tight and wet, the feeling of Halley commanding me from inside my own mind was thrilling. I slid my hands off my breasts and slowly, teasingly walked them down my belly, and I felt Halley and myself both tense in anticipation. I bit my lip and finally let my fingers draw across my labia, so wet and ready. Halley demanded more immediately, so I pinched my clit, moaning at the sensation. I drew my legs up a bit, feet on the bottom of the tank for better leverage, and then I felt strange movement on my calves. I looked down in shock to see the black skin on my legs sprout fluid tentacles, pseudopods that snaked out and fused, that linked my legs together and tightened, yanking my legs and binding them together. I yelped in surprise and delight, struggled against the constriction, thrilled at this unexpected twist. I rubbed my cunt faster, slipped fingers inside, massaged my clit, fucked myself frantically. I was so close to an orgasm! I was so turned on! I needed to come! But then I felt the Symbiote flesh of my wrists sprout their own tentacles, felt pseudopods flow out of my back, I felt them grasp and tug. No, I begged, no… but Halley had another plan. I felt my hands dragged away from my pussy, pulled by Halley with surprising liquid strength. I fought it, moaning and cursing, wriggling as much as I could. I wanted to come so fucking bad! But my arms were drawn behind my back, bound there, glued in place. I was electric with sexual need, desperate for an orgasm, and so fucking turned on by how helpless I was to come! I was a bonfire of Orgone, and Halley drank it up, mad with her own desire, thrashing through her new form of orgasm. Which just made me hornier, feeling her release but denied my own. I whined and pleaded and begged, but Halley was relentless, made me wait and wait and wait until finally she released me and gave me permission to touch myself. I went back to fucking myself and just like that first time, the dam broke and a cascade of orgasms ripped through me until I was left shakey and boneless and breathless in the empty tank.”

(Continues below)


Re: Flotsam

(Chapter 21 continued)

Halley-16’s face is flushed and she’s writhing her hips, I think trying to grind her pussy against the band of Symbiote wedged in her labia. I think I can smell her arousal, but maybe it’s just me. I reach up and try to subtly wipe juices from my chin. “That sounds intense.”

Halley closes her eyes and nods, squirms. “It was. It’s all been so intense.” She takes a ragged, deep breath; makes the face I make when I’m trying for self control. “Matron eventually helped me out of the tank, beaming happy and delighted that we’d saved one of her favourite toys. We looked me over, studied the black Symbiote flesh on my back and limbs, and realized that the Symbiote had only partially merged with me, that Halley had held it back somehow. The Symbiote was rooted to my body, we were permanently bonded, but it was more like we were conjoined than fused.” Halley-16 frowns thoughtfully, “I’ll never know for sure, but I think we reached a new kind of equilibrium. The Symbiote itself, the original alien, is still pure sexual hunger, but Halley’s consciousness is still dominant enough that she can temper it, resist the Symbiotes desire to consume me. As long as Halley-9 can maintain her self control, and as long as I can keep feeding them a steady supply of Orgone, we can maintain this commensal equilibrium and stop the Symbiote from merging with me more. Maybe.” Haley smiles wryly, “Of course my part of this relationship is being a willing slave, always bound, always teased, always aroused, always funnelling energy to Halley and the beast. And we take Clients and add their Orgone to the mix too. It takes a lot to keep my Mistress fed and happy.”


“I stepped into Halley’s hooves.”

I blink, “What?”

Halley-16 snorts a laugh, “I became a dominatrix, or well, Halley-9 went back to being a dominatrix and I came along for the ride.”

I study Halley still bound up in a ball, elbows to knees, and have a hard time picturing her dominating a client. “How does that work?”

“Well, it can go a few different ways. Maybe the Client enters a room to find me tied to a rack and gagged. She cautiously approaches, confused, and then Halley-9 strikes, growing pseudopods and tentacles and binding the Client too. Then we both hang helplessly face-to-face as Halley teases us, breaks us down bit by bit, makes us gasp and shake and beg, until Halley eventually permits us to orgasm. Or maybe the Client is already shackled to the wall, and I’ll walk in and dominate him. Except it’s not me, it’s Halley puppetting me, gagging me and binding my limbs so that she’s the one moving us. Halley is really the one lovingly torturing the man, I’m just a helpless observer. Or maybe the scenario calls for a more dexterous touch and I have to be the dom. So I follow Halley’s mental commands, do the tasks I’m assigned like a good Slave. Halley is always the force behind our sessions, I’m really just a tool of her will.” Halley does her abbreviated shrug, “It’s really just another form of submission.”

“That’s quite the work around…”

Halley-16 playfully bites her lip, “Pretty hot right?”

“Maybe,” I say, wiping my chin again, trying not to think about being all tied up with Halley, helpless and horny and... Time to change the subject, “But isn’t the Symbiote eventually going to y’know?” Eat you?

Halley nods, “Yeah, this situation can’t last forever. Eventually the Symbiote will grow too hungry to feed, or Halley’s mind will erode into the gestalt, or maybe her self control will just slip a little and we’ll merge more. The Symbiote has already spread a bit from the start.” Halley cranes her neck which is coated in shiny black Symbiote stuff from her chin to the hollow of her throat. She smiles, “It’s always just delaying the inevitable, but we’ve made it work for 8 Halleys so far.”

“I see.”

“It’s actually clarifying to know that it’s not forever. I don’t need to worry about an unfamiliar future, I can just focus on enjoying whatever kinky time I have left. It’s like our therapists would always tell us: just try and live in the moment.”

I giggle, “I doubt they meant it like this!”

Halley-16 giggles too, “Well fuck ‘em, what do they know?” She smiles wistfully and tugs against her bonds, “Eventually I’m going to dissolve into her, body and mind, and merge completely with Halley-9 and the Symbiote. I’m going to submit myself to her completely and then live on with her forever in the Symbiotic gestalt mind.” She smiles her most angelic smile again, “I think it’s a beautiful end to my story, don’t you?”

I nod, it definitely sounds like the ultimate end to a submissive fantasy. “I’m happy for you.”

Halley frowns and squirms, clearly uncomfortable from holding her scrunched up prayer pose. Maybe sensing this, the black tentacles uncoil and totally release Halley-16’s limbs. She springs quickly to her feet and takes a few steps, twisting her torso and stretching out, shaking out her arms and legs. She smiles in relief, “Being stuck in a position too long really teaches you to appreciate a good stretch.” She throws her hands up over her head, straightens her back to stand perfectly tall, and sighs happily. Black tentacles shoot out from her wrists and back, reach rapidly up to metal rings bolted to the ceiling of her padded room, and wind through the mounting points. The tentacles snap tight, yanking Halley-9’s arms upward and forcing her up onto her tiptoes, leaving her partially suspended from the ceiling. She grunts and bites her lip, and I can see the harness of tentacles around her torso squeeze her breasts and bite into her pussy. Halley-16 gasps and her cheeks flush, I can tell she likes this and fuck it’s actually pretty sexy. Panting a little, Halley-16 says, “But this is nice too.”

“Fuck,” I say, feeling my pussymouth start to drool again.

“I’m right here,” Halley says, voice husky. “Helpless…”

Halley splits her legs, big toes barely brushing the floor, body dangling and vulnerable. The Symbiote tentacle flossed into the cleft of her pussy slowly splits, blossoming like a flower, and wraps around the joints of her legs and hips instead, baring her cunt which I can see is glistening and open. She shakes her head wildly, her short tousled hair spilling free and falling around her face, and looks at me with naked hunger. Her body is so baseline me, a normal Halley with a monster growing out of her.  I know I shouldn’t do it, I’m here on a secret fact finding mission, not to fuck another version of myself in a brothel, but knowing that it’s wrong just makes it hotter. I moan with my actual voice, a sound made raspy by the pussy juices leaking out of my face. We both want it, so why not take it? Take her like she wants me to. It’s not like fucking and detective work are mutually exclusive. We can always finish the interview after. I should just live in the moment.

I go to Halley and drop to my knees in front of where she hangs, face inches from her naked crotch. I look up at her, tingles racing through my face, my mouthpussy hot and wet and gaping and dripping down my chin. She stares down at me with her lip crushed between her teeth, desire flashing in her eyes. I push my face against her pussy, and she sways away from me and then swings back, bumping me in the head. I grunt and she giggles and I reach my hands around her, grab her ass, pull her hips to my face, hold her there as I smash my mouthpussy against her cunt. My throat floods with the taste of pussy, hers or maybe mine, and part of me wishes I still had a tongue to fuck her with. I grind the hard nose-sized clitoris on my face against her smaller one, rub my slick wet labia along hers, oral sex as scissoring. "Yyyesss...." Halley hisses, works her hips, pushes back against me. My heart is hammering and I'm panting and I can feel our mixed juices running down my face and dribbling onto my tits. I clutch her ass tighter, try to find more leverage, and I then I feel something hot and wet trickle across my hand, flow around my wrists, tighten, bind my hands in place against Halley's ass. The Symbiote! I gasp, I've been snared by the Symbiote! I'm trapped here with my face pressed against Halley's cunt, pussy to pussy! "Ffffffuuuckk..." I moan, and tug against my new bonds. Halley whimpers and wraps her legs around my head, thighs against my cheeks and calves on my shoulders. She pulls me closer to her, drives her cunt against my mouthpussy, rocks me back on my knees, makes stars explode behind my eyes. I groan and push myself back into her and feel something warm on my back, new Symbiotic tentacles sprouting from Halley's legs, slipping into and under my clothes, wrapping around my shoulders and back and torso, gripping my breasts, squeezing them almost painfully, and sliding down and down and down and "Ohhhh... ffffuuuckk" squirming into my pussy and ass. Part of me recoils at the intrusion, flashes back to the Sleeping God, but then Halley moans and humps my face and I’m back in the moment, bound to my clone while another version of me glues us together and consumes our sexual energy. More of the Symbiote flows into me, pushing deeper to completely fill my pussy and ass, stretching me like an intimate mold of my insides. I moan and squirm, making Halley sway from the ceiling. "Ahhhh...hnnnnn...." The Symbiote inside me starts to pulse, to contract and expand, stretching me and relaxing, fucking me in a totally new and alien way. The Symbiote's rhythm is steady, relentless, and slow, designed to drive me crazy without making me cum. I whimper and shudder and Halley thrusts at my mouthpussy, squeezes my face with her thighs, begs me to focus on her. I grind my facial cunt against her pussy harder and I want to slide my fingers into her cunt to feel her from the inside. I try to move my hands, but they're still trapped, stuck against Halley, helpless to move. My clothes cling to me and bunch and chafe, and I'd tear them off of me if I could.  "Ffffuuuckkk..." Halley's breath is coming faster, coming in quick little whining gasps, and I can tell she is so, so close to coming. I lift myself into a crouch, take Halley's body weight onto my shoulders and head and cunt. She moans, adjusts her legs as much as our Symbiote bonds allow, and tries to bear down on my face, to crush our cunts together even harder. I growl and lunge forward like I'm trying to tackle her, leading with my mouthpussy. I push Halley up, my neck and shoulders and back straining, and we both gasp as our pussies grind together. I rock back and forward again, using gravity to thrust my aching clit against Halley faster and harder, fucking her with my whole body. Halley shudders and moans, uses her legs to smash us together harder with every stroke, attacking my face with her cunt. The Symbiote inside of me spasms and expands, stretching me wider, making my knees go weak, making me almost stumble, but I keep fucking Halley with all of the power and speed and desperation I can muster. I'm moaning with my real voice, a strangled wet raspy inarticulate sound that’s halfway muffled by pussy and thigh and fuck, fuck I'm so fucking close too! I can feel sparks of pleasure arc in my face, feel that liminal moment of almost tumbling over the edge, but not quite, not quite, not quite, and suddenly Halley is crushing my head in her thighs, legs spasming, back arched, every muscle tetanus tight, head back and screaming "AHHHHHHHHNNNNGGGHHHHH!!!" as she explodes in orgasm! An entire day of frustration and teasing blowing out of her all at once! I lunge one more time, grind my clit desperately into Halley’s, holding on desperately to keep my feet as Halley thrashes. The Symbiote constricts painfully around my breasts and flails wildly inside my pussy and ass, and all at once I feel stars erupt inside my pussy and back and face and "Uggnnhnnnnnnnn...!!!!" an orgasms rips through me like a storm! My legs go weak and I stumble, fall over, dangle bonelessly from the still suspended panting Halley, completely spent…

We spin lazily, both of us gasping for air and glowing, too sated to move, until the Symbiote goes loose, tentacles suddenly languid, like a postcoital lover or a diner whose eaten too much good food. I feel my weight settle onto the padded floor and squirm as my limbs are released. I watch as Halley-16 is gently lowered back onto her feet. The Symbiote oozes back into her, flowing back into the reservoirs on her arms and legs and back and throat. She stands loosely, easily, and grins down at me with a dreamy smile. She tucks her hair behind her ears and blushes, suddenly looking a little shy. She reaches down and pulls me to my feet, wraps her arms around me in a hug, and kisses me on my labial lips. “I told you I know what we like.”

“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, hugging her back.

She pulls back a little, still with her arms circled around me, and tilts her head, "So why did you come for a visit anyway? The sex was fun, but I got the impression you weren't exactly here for playtime."

I blush, "Not initially, no."


"I'm actually here to find some information."

"Then ask away." She blinks her violet eyes, "But better go quick, you never know when I'll be gagged again."

I laugh and shake my head. How to say this? "I was kind of sent here, by... an interested party?"


"...Who told me that a Halley living in the Sexbox has key information about the whereabouts of Halley-Prime."

"And this mysterious party sent you? Why?" Halley-16 is studying my face very carefully.

I shake my head and shrug, "I was told Halley would only talk to another version of us."

An eyebrow raises, "So you thought you could just come here and fuck the information out of me?"

I blush and sputter, "No! That wasn't! It's not..."

Halley giggles and gives me another smooch on the labia. "I'm kidding!" She shakes her head with an apologetic smile, "Unfortunately I don't know anything about Halley-Prime. I never really looked into her disappearance, and I washed up here pretty quickly. I'd tell you if I knew anything, promise."

I frown. I believe her, but Scèolan made it sound like her benefactor was certain the info was here. "Is it possible that Halley-9 knew something?"

Halley shrugs, sucks her lips thoughtfully, "...Maybe? But if she did, she never told me about it, and at this point I doubt she's even capable of answering." Halley-16 touches the shiny black flesh on her throat, "I kinda doubt she did, though. She also ended up working in the Sexbox pretty soon after respawning and didn't go out on any adventures."

"Maybe a client told her something?"

"Sure? But if they did, how would your mysterious party even know about it?"

"Good point." I pull Halley-16 closer into my arms and rest my forehead against hers, thinking. What information did Scèolan give me? "There is a Halley in the Sexbox. She knows something important. She probably will only tell it to another Halley. She might be on the run from someone?"

Halley-16 pulls back suddenly, blinking her eyes, laughing. "Oh my god!"


She giggles, "We are not the Halleys you are looking for..."

"What do you mean?"

"It's all been a mix up! You aren't here to see me at all! Matron sent you to the wrong place."

"Which means?"

She smirks, "You're really here to see Halley-18."


To be continued.


Re: Flotsam

Am I the only one who has trouble keeping track of which Halley is which?

That being said, nice new chapter.


Re: Flotsam

“Our” Halley is emotionally adapting much better than I expected.


Re: Flotsam

@DGH: Wait until next chapter when I have 4 Halleys in the same room!

I did post a Halley guide after the first act: https://legendsofbelial.net/viewtopic.p … 360#p12360

I’ll do an updated list at the end of the second act.