(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.”

“Clients?”

“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."

"Well?"

"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?"

"Mysterious."

"...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!"

"What?"

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.

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

Chapter 22: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … er-22.html

Flotsam

Chapter 22: Memetic

“Hello? I know you’re there! I might be blind, but I can still hear you…”

I look over at Halley-16 and all she can do is shrug. Her mouth is gagged by the Halley-9 Symbiote and her arms are bound behind her back like she’s wearing manacles. She totters on tiptoes, feet forced en pointe by shiny black Symbiote boots. She minces a little step and nearly trips as the tentacle hobble linking her ankles snaps taught. Halley-16 just barely catches her balance and blushes at me. Clearly she isn’t going to be much help here.

“Is making me wait part of the game?” Halley-18 asks while lifting her head, I guess trying to pinpoint us by sound. Her sightless eyes pass over me; no pupils, just round circles of unbroken violet iris. She licks her lips thoughtfully. “Okay…” she purrs, twisting her naked limbless body on the plush white bed. She rolls her smoothed over shoulders and works her legless hips back and forth in a way that displays the shamelessly exposed pink slit of her pussy. “Do you want me to beg?”

I swallow heavily, horrified but also maybe a little turned on. Halley-18 is a blind limbless quadruple amputee, a helpless living plaything here in the Sexbox. Which, fuck, why does this shit keep happening to me?

“Oooo…” Halley-18 whimpers, wriggling. “I’m sooooo wet….”

I blush, “Please stop.”

“Oh. It’s a me.” Halley-18 flops her limbless body flat on the mattress. “I guess you aren’t here to fuck me then?” She sounds disappointed.

“No, I’m here to ask you some questions?” I clear my throat awkwardly. “Hi, I’m Halley-24.”

“Up to 24 already?” Halley-18 looks mostly in my direction and shakes her head. “Well, come have a seat so we can get this over with…”

I glance nervously at Halley-16 who shrugs and then nods her head. Halley-18 frowns at the delay. “I don’t bite,” she says, “Well I do, but I’m easy to dodge.” She wiggles her abbreviated body as if trying to make a point. I take a deep, long breath and walk across the sparse little room and sit cautiously on the edge of the bed. “That’s better,” Halley-18 says.

Up close like this I can’t help but study Halley-18. She’s mostly a baseline Halley, or at least what’s left of her is. She has no arms or legs, her body ending abruptly at the shoulders and hips. Her limbless shoulders are round and perfectly smooth, creating the appearance that Halley was born this way. Her torso from shoulder to hip is one elegantly unbroken line, smooth ribs to smooth sides to the smooth flare of her hips. She has modest breasts which pool naturally on her chest and absolutely killer ab definition. Like her shoulders, her hips are rounded over without a single trace that she ever had legs. Her truncated hips and ass are unnaturally full too, artfully sculpted to create a soft heart-shape where her body ends. Obscenely displayed in this abbreviated valley is the wet pink folds of her pussy, boldly presented as if it’s the whole point of her, ripe and ready for the taking.

I snatch my vision away from Halley-18’s vagina and focus on her face instead. Her violet eyes look without seeing, too still and too aimed a little wrong. Her empty purple irises are enormous and up close I can see a tiny white speck in the very centre, a pinprick of severed nerves. Her dark hair is cut down to a short fuzz and her eyebrows have grown unkempt. She has freckles across the bridge of her nose, except they’re green and shiny, and I realize she has emerald scales on her face. The scales splash across the top of chest too, sprinkling along her collarbones, and back around her rounded shoulders. The scales are faintly metallic and I’m tempted to touch one to see what they feel like. I wonder how this version of me ended up limbless and blind and slightly scaly.

“So…?” Halley-18 smirks at me like she knows I’m ogling her. “What do you want to know? Is this part of a Halley-vision-quest-type thing?”

I shake my head and remember she can’t see. “No, I’m here with… a specific line of inquiry?”

Halley-18 giggles, “Specific line of inquiry! So full of intrigue!”

I blush, “Questions! I have questions…”

“Then ask already! I haven’t got all day!”

I blink my eyes and look at her dubiously, she’s a limbless woman laying in a bed, “Am I interrupting your evening walk?”

Halley-18 laughs and a genuine smile breaks out on her face. “Touche!” She grins and I can see her teeth are little fangs, “You’re okay, Halley-24.” She sighs and flops back flat on the bed, “But the faster we do this, the sooner a client might come who actually wants to use me.” Halley humps her hips up and down making the bed bounce a little.

I feel a little queasy, “An interested party told me that a Halley living in the Sexbox knew something important about Halley-Prime. Is that you?”

Halley-18 lays very still, does a trademark deep breath, “Who told you I was here?”

I frown, not so playful now. “An Infobroker who knew Prime, goes by the name Gan Ceann. Their agent said you knew something about why Halley-Prime was abducted from Earth…” I pause, “I was also told you might be on the run? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Of course not,” Halley-18 says, slipping her brave face back on. “I’m just very kinky. I came here to the Sexbox all lonely and horny, and liked what I saw. Kid in the candy store kind of thing.” She wiggles obscenely, “Next thing you know I’ve lost some surplus parts and joined the Industry as a living sex toy. Just another grown up Catholic School girl with some weird internalized fetishes…”

From across the room Halley-16 grunts and stumbles, shakes her head vigorously. I got that Halley-18 was lying, but the confirmation is nice. 

Halley-18 swings her face blindly around the room, her face angry. She growls, “Is that you Triple H? Be quiet! This doesn’t concern you!”

“Did you just call her Triple H?”

Halley-18 snorts, “Hogtied Horny Halley. Or Hobbled Horny Halley. Or maybe Helpless Horny Halley. H-H-H.”

“Cute.”

“What can I say? I have a lot of time on my…” She shrugs her armless shoulders, “Not hands exactly.”

“Right.”

Halley-16 makes another muffled sound, chewing on her gag, drooling. Halley-18 glowers sort of in her direction. “It’ll be Harmed Hopeless Halley in a minute if you don’t be quiet!”

The Symbiotic pseudopod in Halley-16’s mouth flows out of the way and she gasps, “What’ll you do? Bite my ankles?”

Halley-18 hisses, “Maybe. It’s not like you’ve got the fastest getaway.”

Halley-16 stomps her ballerina-toed foot angrily, slips a little, her ankle hobble going tight and yanking, and yelps as she falls to the ground, landing awkwardly. I stand up to go to her, “Oh my god, Halley are you okay?”

“I’m fine… although this is why I prefer padded floors.” She groans and kicks her legs to roll into a more comfortable position on the floor. “Halley, stop lying to her and just tell her the real story.”

Halley-18 makes a hissing sound and unleashes a patented Halley-style dirty look at Halley-16. Unfortunately her aim is way off and Halley-16 is facing away from her anyway. I blink my eyes and notice that Halley-16’s scales are thicker on the back of her neck, a solid skin of emerald and gold with lapis lazuli highlights. I take a step and lean in, see the mosaic of scales continue down her shoulders and disappear under her body. I wonder how far down they go and whether she has an entire reptilian back tattoo. I think about turning her over to look; it’s not like she can stop me…

And holy crap! Scales! Halley-18 has scales! I gasp and place a hand over my pussy, Halley-18 was in the Syndicate! She worked for Reptilian gangsters! Which is probably how she learned the information I’m after. And why she she’s hiding out here. It still doesn’t explain why she’s a limbless sextoy, but maybe I can use this. “You were in the Syndicate.”

Halley-18 looks in the direction of my voice. Her mouth is a thin line and her blind eyes are narrow. “What makes you say that?”

“Your scales.”

“I just like lizards.”

“I’m sure you do, but I think you should start talking before I go ask your former employers about what you know.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I tilt my head and think about it. I’ve met enough Halleys to know we’re capable of a lot of things. I could easily picture The Destroyer doing something so ruthless. Or Sister Superior Teuthida. I don’t think I have it in me though, and honestly I’m pretty okay with that. But if ever there was a time to bluff… “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” Halley-18 relaxes a little, round shoulders slumping. “But Gan Ceann probably will. So take it from the top.”

Halley-18 bares her fangs at me like she’s going to keep arguing, but then closes her eyes and sighs, lays on her back and stares blankly at the ceiling. “The only thing I don’t like about being limbless is not being able to walk away from assholes.” She points her face in my general direction, “Swear to me that you and your Infobroker will keep my situation to yourselves. I’m sure the Dragon knows I’m here, but I get the feeling that our little detente will be over the moment I cause any sort of fuss.” She winces, “And I’m not exactly built for quick getaways…”

“I promise.”

“I guess I should start at the beginning? Give you the whole Halley meet up experience.” Halley-18 stretches out her neck. “I appeared in Clem’s weird apartment, met her and her sex pet, and was shuffled off to Hank to work through my hysterics. I moved in with Hank and Freya and did the waitress thing at the Hideaway and for a while it was really nice.” Halley-18 smiles darkly with more than a little fang. “Until it wasn’t. There was always an undercurrent of sexual tension between the three of us. Freya is a woman of incredible passion and appetite, and she made it obvious she wanted me. Hank is less straightforward, but he wanted me too, I think because when he’s fucking another Halley he feels like a unique person instead of a clone.” Halley shrugs her empty shoulders. “I was attracted to them both, but too scared of fucking up my home to jump into that situation with my legs open, so to say.” Halley wags her truncated hips around playfully. “And so there I was living with Hank and Freya, listening to them fuck when they were together, and having them both try and seduce me when they were apart. It was a lot. And so I started going for long walks. It might seem hard to believe now, but I used to love going for walks. Just climbing down from the Hideaway rooftop and striding along on my legs for hours…” Halley-18 shivers and winces, “Disgusting.”

I frown and blink, what?

“Anyway,” she continues, “I’d go for these long aimless walks all over the Mesa, just taking in the new alien world and exploring Flotsam.” Halley frowns thoughtfully, “We never really did that on Earth, did we? Always too scared to wander around unfamiliar streets and strangers. Instead we squirreled ourself away in that crappy trailer park.” She shakes her head, “The funny thing is that walking is this amazing way to be hidden. If you just keep moving you’re basically invisible. Anonymous.” Halley smiles, “And all the exercise is great for burning off extra anxiety energy.” She nods to herself, “But I think my favourite thing was the people watching. Flotsam is wildly entertaining: different species and cultures and individuals all stacked up on this stupid little mountain. I could just pick a direction, walk a few blocks, and see something I’d never seen before, or someone completely new. A futuristic machine or bizarre stranger or brand new species. It was the cheapest, best show in town.” Halley frowns thoughtfully and points her face at where she thinks I am. “You know the main thing I learned from all my walks?”

“What?”

“Everyone is scared.”

I blink, “Okay…?”

“Everyone is constantly afraid, and their fear drives their behavior. Fear is the key to understanding life.”

“That’s…” Super dark and deeply fucked up, and how do you even get there from people watching…“cynical?”

Halley-18 grins with her fangs out. “People only follow rules because they fear punishment. They work at a job because they fear hunger and poverty. People fall in love because they’re afraid of being alone. People have children because they fear death, and I guess biology,” Halley shrugs her shoulder nubs. “People are violent because they’re afraid of being hurt and desire control for fear of being powerless.”

“And you joined the Syndicate to what, gain power?”

“Sort of.” Halley-18 lays flat on the mattress and glares at the ceiling. “I started to see the Syndicate on my walks; they’re almost everywhere once you learn what to look for. Maybe I saw a shakedown first, an obvious crime, but just kept walking. Then maybe I noticed a Reptilian patrol checking in on a corner dealer. Then there was a street vendor who seemed a little crooked and had scales on his arm. Soon I’d start to notice them in the crowd walking anonymously.” Halley frowns, “It’s hard to explain exactly what I saw, but they had a way of being in the world. The Syndicate carried themselves with a confidence, a bravado, and the sapients around them responded to it, subconsciously deferred to them. They were fearsome.”

“So you joined the Syndicate to get over your fear?”

Halley-18 shook her head, “I didn’t say they were fear-less. You sighted folks need to learn to listen better.” She sighed, “They were fear-some. The Syndicate are just as afraid as everyone else, and even have extra criminal fears. Fear of law enforcement, fear of their bosses, fear of the violence inherent in illegal enterprise. Fear of imminent death. But rather than cower to that fear, they reflect it back into the world, project it onto others. They become fear, live in it.” Halley works her jaw for a moment, “As someone who had let fear rule her life, who ran away from it, surrendered to it, the idea of just owning that fear, of making it a weapon was… incredible. I wanted to become fearsome… instead of just afraid.”

Halley-16 scoffs from the floor, “You’re so full of shit.” The Symbiote has grown ribbons that wrap around her limbs leaving her cocooned like a mummy. “You did it for the money.”

Halley-18 laughs, “The money was good too! Crime really does pay.” She smiles at the ceiling, “I also found a sense of belonging and family and self-importance; all the usual gang stuff. But the thing that made me reach out to the Syndicate was that epiphany about fear.”

“How does an Earthling girl even join an alien gang? Just walk up and say ‘Hi I’d like to do a crime’?”

“Pretty much. I approached a few scaly drug dealers and made my pitch, and when that didn’t work, I bothered some higher ranked gangsters on a patrol. When that still didn’t work, I picked out Syndicate members who were trying to be anonymous and introduced myself to them. So it was probably me being a nuisance that got the Syndicates attention, but hey whatever works, right?”

Halley-18 licks her dry lips, “The Syndicate contacted me when I was out on a walk. I turned a corner and heard a sound like a rattlesnake and glanced back to see a woman dressed in dark blue scales and leather coming up behind me. She hissed at me to look forward, to keep walking, and asked if I was looking for work. I told her I was, and she replied that maybe she had something for me. The woman gave me city coordinates and a timestamp and told me to be punctual. Then silently she slipped away. I had my first job.”

“I got to the rendezvous with time to spare; too much time really. I was nervous and twitchy and so close to running away, but I practiced my breathing, paced out my anxiety, made myself stay. And then this gigantic slab of a human man approached me. He was six and a half feet tall and unnaturally wide, wearing a huge dark leather coat, supple leather gloves that he kept tucked in his sleeves, and a stupid hat, like a wide brimmed bowler. He told me that his name was Boomslang and that I was to follow him. I was twitchy so I nattered at him, but he basically ignored me aside from the occasional grunt until we reached a little bodega-like shop. Boomslang told me that we’d arrived and that I was to be his Face for the evening. I didn’t know what he meant, so he tersely explained he was the Heavy and I was the Face. It was my job to sweet talk the shopkeeper into paying their debt or else there would be consequences. I asked what consequences, and he quietly replied the Heavy.” Halley-18 smiled wistfully, “I walked into the store and went up to the thin Blue behind the counter and introduced myself as their debt collector. The Blue was called Soupcan and they were terrified, but so was I, so scared of them and Boomslang and myself and the whole crazy situation. But rather than run away I projected that fear, stood tall and askance, grinned with too many teeth, leaned forward and put my elbows on the counter, and made myself fearsome. The Blue shopkeeper cowered and I felt this awful little thrill at winning the balance.” Halley-18 wiggled her limbless body and smiled. “I did my best to make Soupcan pay up, I really did. I ran through everything I could think of: appeals to their welfare, appeals to their business sense, appeals to how their Community would feel to see them beaten by a gangster, I threatened, I pleaded, I promised, but that stubborn Blue was a tough nut. And then Boomslang walked into the shop.”

“Boomslang slowly peeled off his soft leather gloves revealing gnarled, scaly reptilian hands. He had long talons on every too thick finger, ridged barbed scales like armour that ran back along his hands and knuckles, and rough black scales that disappeared up the sleeves of his coat. Soupcan’s eyes went wide, even for a Blue, and started to beg, but well, the time for deals was past. Boomslang handed his gloves to me, gently pushed me aside, and was across the room and hauling Soupcan out from his perch in the blink of an eye. He held that tall thin alien aloft and beat him, carefully, thoughtfully, precisely, for what felt like ages. My heart was pounding and my mouth was cotton-dry, this was the most violent, most terrifying thing I’d ever seen, but it was thrilling too. I was on the right side of the dagger blade, watching someone else be broken. I’d never felt powerful before and I loved it.” Halley shakes her head, “I knew I should feel bad, guilty or whatever, but I didn’t. I wonder what that says about me? About us?” Halley looks blindly in my direction and smiles very thinly.  “And then Boomslang was finished, dropping a wheezing, pulverized Soupcan to the floor. Boomslang calmly drew something like a kerchief out of his coat and delicately cleaned the blue-black blood off his monstrous hands. He reached out to me for his gloves and told me to come along.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Halley-18 nods, “And so I became a Face for a while, the friendly voice for Boomslang as he  collected debts. Usually sapients paid up without a beating, and I got better at saying the right things, finding that line between no fucks friendly banter and threat, to talk most folks round to the less painful way of doing business. I got better at reading when I had a hard case too, learned to just step outside the shop and let Boomslang be the Heavy. It became transactional, seemed like a normal part of doing business, and not the violent crime that it was. It’s funny how quickly you get calloused to things.” Halley snorts a laugh, “When we eventually went back to Soupcan he paid up in full, he’d burned his Social Capital and his Community had bailed him out. I can’t imagine what that did to his Standing...”

“One day me and Boomslang visited a glassblower with a gambling problem. I entered his little gallery and gawked, it was beautiful. The shop was filled with ornate vases and statues made from kaleidoscopes of twisted rainbow glass, all of it artfully arranged on pedestals or shelves. I said a cheerful hello and found the human glassman staring at me defiantly, hands on narrow hips, face lit up luridly with projected colour. I was feeling jaunty and jovial so I toyed with him, touched his artwork as we chatted, poked and nudged his sculptures, eventually knocked over a beautiful piece to punctuate a point. He was mad, I could tell I’d wound him up too far, but fuck, I didn’t care. When he refused to pay, I laughed at him, told him the glassman shouldn’t play hard. I smashed a vase on the floor, told him life is brittle. Boomslang entered with his impeccable timing, looming, but rather than take off his gloves, he handed me a pair of steel knuckles. He told me it was time for me to be the Heavy.” Halley takes a deep breath, “For a moment I was too stunned to do anything, just held those heavy, heavy steel dusters in my shaking hands. Sweat trickled down my back and my pulse pounded in my ears. I wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t vicious enough to do this. Or was I? I’d been jointly responsible for at least a dozen beatings already, my hands were already dirty. What was worse about doing it myself? It was more honest in a way,” A wry smile played across her lips. “I looked at the glassman and weighed him up. He was small and slight, maybe from a planet with too little food or weird gravity or miniature genetics. I was scared, sure, but I figured I could probably take him, especially with the knuckles putting extra weight behind my punches. And Boomslang was there, silently watching. He’d step in if I started to lose, right?” Halley-18 shakes her head, “Now I’m not sure he would’ve...”

“I slipped the knuckles onto my hands. I was panting and scared out of my mind, but somehow giddy too. The steel knuckles were cold on my fingers, made my hands feel cumbersome and huge and heavy as guilt. The room seemed too bright, too loud, too real somehow; certainly too colorful, like a feverish dream sculpted from rainbows. I squared my shoulders, walked to the glassman, boots crunching on the glass of his broken artwork. The glassman looked at me, looked at Boomslang, looked at me, raised his hands in surrender, but we all knew what was going to happen. I threw my first punch clumsily, too skittish to put any weight behind it, and clipped one of his hands. The glassman shrieked, but more from nerves than anything, and I stumbled a bit. He shied away and I hit him again, catching his arm solidly this time, the knuckles making it hard enough to bruise. He shoved out at me, made me stumble backward and knock over a statue, sending it to shatter on the floor. I was mad now and growled and punched, fell back on that old self-defense class and kneed him in the balls. He wheezed and curled up, cupped his aching crotch with his hands, and presented his face, so I punched it as hard as I could, no form, just threw all my weight recklessly into it. Through the knuckles I felt something in his face give, crack, break, buckle, and I watched him go over sideways, blood spilling out of his mouth. I lifted a statue and smashed it over his head, sharp glass falling over him. I kicked him and kicked him and he somehow stumbled to his feet, unsteadily. So I pulled him towards me and punched him in the nose, crushing it flat beneath my knuckles, and then threw him into an art display, knocking him back to the sharp glassy ground. I grabbed another pair of statues, the size and weight of wine bottles, and hit him with them until they broke. Then I punched him in the face and hands and arms when he tried to curl up. Then I was kicking him, over and over, making him roll around in the broken glass. And then Boomslang was gently pulling me back, reminding me that a dead man pays no debts.”

Halley rotates her smooth limbless shoulders as if she were lifting her arms. “I was trembling, holding up my bloody aching hands in front of me like I didn’t know what to do with them. My toes hurt inside my boots,” Halley-18 cringes in revulsion. “My skin was burning, I was cut all over by glass, bleeding from dozens of tiny little wounds. I was gasping and had tears in my eyes, but I couldn’t tell if it was shock or anger or grief or triumph. I looked back at the glassman moaning on the floor and felt sick and jubilant and horrified and proud. Boomslang rested his heavy gloved hand on my shoulder and nodded like something significant had happened. Then he led me out of the gallery.” She smiles faintly, “I passed the test.”

“Fuck.”

“The next thing I knew I was being summoned to a fancy restaurant up in the Terraces. It was a handsome stone building with a tiled roof of colorful recycled plastic and a huge patio with a great view out over the Mesa and Spaceport. I was so nervous, clutching my simple printed dress, too aware of my bruised knuckles and all the little bandages and cuts on my bare arms and legs. I felt so out of place. I was led to a table and found the woman who recruited me relaxing with a fizzing red drink. She told me to sit and took a long sip of her drink, the dark blue ceramic snake rattles in her dreadlocked hair hissing a little with the motion. She was wearing tight dark trousers and a navy vest like a halter top waistcoat that bared sinewy arms covered in sleeves of blue and gold scales. Metallic gold scales on her breastbone glinted in the evening sun like a medallion, drawing my eyes to her bare cleavage. She cleared her throat and I looked up to see yellow reptilian eyes studying me from a domino mask of midnight blue scales. ‘I am called Krait’ she told me cooly, ‘and from now on you work directly for me.’”

“Food was brought to our table, real meat from some big mammal-type animal, an absolute luxury. Krait flicked a forked tongue and carved into her steak with a knife. Without looking up she told me that my hard work had been noticed, that I was increasingly seen as dependable, a woman who could see things through. At least provisionally. Krait told me there was a realignment happening, that there was a real opportunity for women like her to get ahead. Perhaps for me as well, if I could be strong enough and cunning enough and fierce enough. Krait looked up at me with those blazing slit eyes and asked me if I was a predator or prey. I felt a little pang of panic, what the fuck had I gotten myself into? I’d wanted a taste of power, sure, but here I was being propositioned by someone with real clout. But the time for doubts was before I kicked the shit out of someone, so I put on my bravest shittiest grin and told Krait she already knew the answer. Krait took a bite of her meat and nodded as she chewed. Krait reached under the table and handed me an object, a sheathed dagger. Hands shaking, I pulled the knife out of its cover and studied it. It was a simple blade, salvaged Junk Desert ceramic honed to a microtome edge with an artless tungsten guard and a handle crafted from some up-cycled polymer. It was functional and brutal and completely made of repurposed garbage. I gasped, understanding what it meant.” Halley-18 blinked her sightless eyes and paused, “Do you know about Reptilians and their daggers?”

My mind goes back to The Arena and the staged Proving and all of the males stabbing each other for breeding favor. “Not really.”

“Blading is a Reptilian tradition that goes back to their ancient times and is a mark of status and fealty. When a male Reptilian is taken as a vassal, their Matriarch awards them a ceremonial dagger that bears symbols of their rank and allegiance. This knife becomes a mark of pride for the male and the weapon they’ll use in Honour Duels and Provings. To be given a knife by Krait was to be marked as a valued member of her Cohort and not just some thug. I wasn’t a punk playing gangster anymore, I was being made a Lieutenant in the Syndicate. I felt fear and pride war in my heart and I smiled and looked up at Krait. Thank you, I’d said. Krait smiled thinly back, her lips red with bloody juices, and said: I think we’ll call you Glass now. You should eat your meat before it grows cold.”

“We finished our meal in silence and then Krait took me to another Terrace building, an upscale Shaper clinic run by the Syndicate. I was confused, but obediently followed Krait inside while wondering why we were there. Krait brought me to a small treatment room with a recliner. She turned to me suddenly, her dreadlock rattles hissing menacingly, and told me that I’d earned my first scales. I was speechless; this was another big right of passage. Humans in the Syndicate with Rank, humans like Krait, we’re given the right to Shape scales onto their bodies, to emulate their Reptilian Matriarchs. It was considered an honor to elevate my lowly mammal form toward a Reptilian Ideal, but it was also expected of me as another act of fealty. My new dagger marked my status and allegiance within Reptilian circles, but growing scales would mark my Syndicate affiliation to everyone else. The fact I was a criminal gangster would be obvious, carved into my body for display, visible to the world. I shivered, this was another big step down a dangerous path, and one that would change how sapients saw me. How Clem and Freya and Hank would see me. Did I really want to do this? But again it was too late for doubts, this was just another part of the promotion I’d already accepted. I took off my dress and climbed up onto the recliner. Krait bared her long fangs in a grin, a strange look in her eyes like desire.”

Halley-18 scans blindly around the room, searching for me. “Roll me over.”

“What?”

“Roll me over,” Halley-18 repeats as she finds my voice and gives me an impatient look. I reach out and touch her, grasp her by a warm bare truncated shoulder and hip and roll her onto her front. Her back is covered in a mosaic of scales, gold and green mostly, but with a few lapis lazuli accents, an organic geometry that makes me think of snakes. It’s actually quite beautiful. “You can touch,” Halley instructs me, “I’m not going to stop you.” As if she could.  I hesitate, but curiosity wins out and I run my finger along the scales covering Halley-18’s spine. The scales are smooth and dry and hard, like kernels of uncooked corn. It reminds me of the time I touched a blue-tongued skink in the Trailer park guy’s pet collection. Halley shivers at the touch. “That feels nice,” she purrs.

I snatch my hand back like a frightened animal, “So you got a knife and some back scales and a cute nickname.”

Halley-18 twists her head to avoid talking into the mattress, “Not just the back. I also had scales added to my hands: thick crocodilian plates across my knuckles like my own built in knuckle dusters. Like Boomslang. At the time I thought it was a badass choice; a nod to my history and a neat little threat.” She shivers, “Now the idea just seems revolting.”

“Yeah.” The thought of beating someone with my own hands and then celebrating it with a tattoo was pretty fucked.

“Krait liked it though, and when my Shaping was finished I opened my eyes to find her staring at me with that same unexpected hunger. She lunged at me, quick like a snake, and I felt her lips press against mine in a kiss, aggressive and biting and sharp. I kissed her back, surprised and uncertain but game, heart pounding in my chest. I felt her hands trace across my naked body, her hard enamel nails rasping across my skin and gliding along my new scales. She guided me onto my back and I felt her fingers dip down to my crotch and push into me assertively. I gasped and wriggled, the sudden penetration not entirely comfortable. Krait was beautiful and sexy and dangerous, attractive and terrifying all at once. I knew that fucking her was not a smart or safe move, but well, she was somehow already fucking me and I wasn’t going to stop her. Krait started to finger fuck me, slowly at first, a smooth motion of total control. I started to pant, roll my hips against her hand, but she pressed me down flat with her other hand, “Ssssssstill.” I laid there biting my lip as Krait started to move faster, pushed a third finger inside of me, dragged along the sensitive ridges of my pussy. She smiled and licked her lips with a forked tongue, a distant look on her face like she wasn’t exactly seeing me, “Yesssssssssss.” Krait started to fuck me faster, her fingers rapidly thrusting in and out, her hand pushing me up against my chair. I mewled and gasped and tilted my head back and…. Ahhhhhhhhh.” Halley-18 writhes on her stomach and does her best orgasm impression. Despite myself I stare at the round swell of her ass, enormous looking on her small squirming body. “And then I felt the fingers inside my pussy hook sharply, felt Krait’s hand suddenly clutch me tightly by the cunt. I mewled in shock, breathless and aroused, but hurt and confused. Krait squeezed me tighter, her nails digging into me like a threat, and stared into my eyes, “Never forget that you are mine now.””

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah,” Halley-18 sighed.

“And then what happened?”

“Then I became something like Krait’s personal bounty hunter. If some sapient tried to pull a runner on us, Krait would sick me and my crew on them.” Halley smiled tightly, “I was really good at it too. I don’t know if it was the time I spent shadowing Boomslang, or having access to Syndicate resources, or just a natural talent, but I could find almost anyone on Flotsam. And even if someone tried to flee off planet I’d usually catch them at the Port, tipped off by one of my pet officials.” Haley-18 bared her little fangs, “No one escaped Glass.”

“And once you found them?”

“It could go a few different ways. Sometimes I’d just stop by for a jaunty hello, a fuck you reminder that I’d always be able to find them. Or maybe I’d bring along Boomslang and his new protege for a more in depth conversation about obligations. Sometimes I’d hand my prey off to the Serpent’s Enforcers, tough male guards who'd drag the runner back to the Dragon for extra punishment. Maybe Indenture in a Breakyard or execution, or maybe a more exotic punishment.” Halley shrugs her armless shoulders, “I tried not to find out.”

I nodded, “You learned something about Halley-Prime while working as a Bounty Hunter, right? Found her while chasing down another lead? Maybe used all your new contacts to learn some things?”

“No,” Halley-18 spat an unimpressive dribble onto her mattress. “Of course not. I don’t give a fuck about Halley-Prime! She’s gone, probably dead, and honestly, good riddance. The sooner we all move on, the better our new lives will be.”

I frown at the blind quadruple amputee. Right, so much better. “Then how did you learn about Halley-Prime?”

“I got another promotion.” Halley-18 pauses, “Roll me onto my back.”

I sigh wetly and grab Halley by her smooth shoulder and hip again, and flopped her onto her back. She lifts her head and sniffs the air as I pull away. “Why does your face smell so much like pussy?”

“My diet.”

Halley-18 laughs, “I make a pretty tasty snack.” She closes her eyes and stretches languidly, making a showcase of her limbless body. Again I find my eyes tracing over her helpless form, arresting on the pink blossom of her glistening wet labia, absolutely ripe for the taking. She’s aroused, she wants me to use her. Fuck. I spare a glance at Halley-16 who is once again hogtied on the floor, but this time with a Symbiotic hood wrapped over her eyes and ears. No one is watching. I could do it, fuck Halley-18 like the toy she so desperately wants to be. That she has made herself into. No one but us would ever know. I feel my pussymouth water and a warmth in my belly. I’m not sure if it’s the power to use Halley or the thought of being helpless that’s got my motor running. It would be so sexy… But what am I even doing!? No! Focus Halley!

“I just ate,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “You were about to tell me about your new promotion. And what you know about Prime.”

Halley-18 pouts, “Almost had you, didn’t I?” She sighs and tilts her head way back, chin aimed at the ceiling. “I got a special assignment, straight from The Serpent herself. Krait told me that our Matron was aware of my good work and that she needed someone trustworthy to recover a package. I asked what sort of package, and was told that knowing wasn’t part of the assignment. I was to find my way to a contact, obtain my objective, and bring it back to Krait unopened.” Halley shrugged her head, “It felt a little ridiculous, beneath me, but sure, I could go fetch a thing. So I greased some palms and snuck into the Port and found my contact, some sort of alien Spacer in a bulky twelve-limbed environment suit. The alien held up a manipulator arm holding a thin rectangular object and made something like the ‘pay up' gesture with another arm. I made the payment and the alien handed me the package, just a thin envelope made of hard plastic, but painted in a jagged stripe pattern of white and red and yellow. It was like a Christmas present wrapped in poison snake skin. I clutched the package to me, nodded and slipped away, went deeper into the port for some privacy. I found a quiet space under the struts of a huge ingot lifter and saw I was alone. I held the envelope up and wondered what was inside. What could justify sending a special courier? What called for the bright warning colors? I turned the object over and studied the closure; it was just a simple aluminum snap and flap, easily opened. I felt around and didn’t feel any sort of tattletale mechanism, but I’m just a dumb Earthling girl living in a sci-fi movie, so who knows, right? Would they know if I opened it? Would I even recognize the contents? Was it just some meaningless information? Could it be dangerous? Maybe it was nothing at all, and this was some sort of loyalty test, a trial run for later jobs. It was so much safer to just leave it alone. But fuck me, I was so curious.”

“Did you open it?”

Halley shakes her head, “No, no I didn’t. I brought it back to Krait unopened. Which I guess was the right move, since it got me promoted to The Serpent’s personal courier.” She grunts a laugh, “I’d finally made the big time! Well, if being a glorified mailman counts as the big time.” She shows a little fang, “Krait sent me all over Flotsam carrying sealed packages or fetching private messages for The Serpent. I do mean everywhere too: all over the city, but also across species and class. The Syndicate has a sharp little claw in all sorts of things, from the dirtiest human street thug to the fanciest Blue Culture Leader. So I figured out how to travel between worlds. I learned how to wear my authority among criminals, how to carry myself like a badass and dress in backless tops to show off my scales. I learned how to pass professionally too. I learned the art of demurely blending into polite company dressed in my business best and how to draw empty attention wearing something femme and flirty. Become a quiet functionary or a harmless piece of eye candy.” Halley searches blindly for me, “I was good at it too. It’s amazing how much potential we Halleys have if we just get going…”

“So how does the Serpent’s personal courier end up limbless in the Sexbox?”

Halley-18 smiles with an edge, “Because I learned something about Halley-Prime.”

Here we go. “I’m all ears.”

“That’s a weird body mod choice, but who am I to judge?” She wiggles helplessly.

My facial vulva try and tug into a grin, “You have no idea.”

Halley-18 squints as if she might be able to see and pouts. “Teasing the blind… and people think I’m the mean one.”

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.”

“Oh! Is it interesting?”

I stroke a finger along my slick pussymouth and shiver, “I think you’ll like it.”

Halley chews her lip and arches her back, lifting up her breasts. “You better not be teasing…” she purrs helplessly.

I feel my face blush in embarrassed arousal. This is getting out of hand but, “I’ll give you a special kiss if you tell me what you learned about Halley-Prime.”

Halley-18’s face scrunches up in thoughtful suspicion before relaxing in surrender. “Deal.” Halley sighs, “I’ve always been too curious for my own good.”

“You and me both…”

Halley-18 smiles thinly, “One day Krait came to my little bolthole apartment with a Special Assignment. Well, all of my jobs were special assignments, but this one was unusual.”

“Unusual how?”

“It was way, way out in the Junk Desert. Which was weird. My courier work took me all over the city and occasionally into the outskirts, but I’d never been sent out into the Deep Scraplands. Who was even out there? Why did they need to send a Courier? The Syndicate has tame Salvagers, experienced Junk Desert teams, why not use them? Why me?” Halley shakes her head, “It didn’t make any sense. So I asked, and the funny thing is Krait actually answered. She smiled too, mischievously, conspiratorially, and told me that someone found The Black Box.”

“The what?”

“The Memory Crystal of the craft that abducted us from the Trailer Park.”

“What!?”

Halley nods her head and smiles with fang, “Exactly. It seems some Scavenger way out in the Junk found a fresh crash site, the wreckage from a modern Tall White Corsair that maybe spent a little time near Earth. The Scavenger told Dealers, the Dealers told Brokers, and the Brokers told the Syndicate. And when The Serpent learned the Memory Crystal was intact, she decided she wanted it.”

“Why? What does a crime lord care about Halley-Prime?”

“According to Krait: nothing. The Serpent gives zero fucks about some Earthling orphan girl and her disappearance. There’s no profit in that. No clout. No power,” Halley-18 shakes her head and wets her lips. “Instead The Serpent wanted evidence of who hired Tall White mercenaries to abduct us. Kidnapping Native Earthlings interferes with the Earth Experiment, which is a giant fucking big no-no. It violates an Accord between all the big players: The Grey, The Blue Meta-Assembly, The Reptilian Houses, The Annunaki, The-Guardians-Who-Remain-Behind, The Uplifted, The Undine High Confluence, The Free Human Diaspora In Aggregate, The Aquarian Court, The August, The Plejarens, The Nordic Clans, The-One-Who-Was-Many, The Agarti, The Exiled, and so on. Even The White Assembly signed the thing, and they’re basically piratical anarchists. Whoever paid for the abduction totally fucked up, and The Serpent wanted Leverage. And so she sent me out into the Junk to purchase the Memory Crystal.”

“Awfully convenient sending a Halley to get dirt on Halley…”

Halley-18 shrugs her armless shoulders, “I was The Serpent’s trusted courier; it was a coincidence not a conspiracy.”

I smirk with my eyes, “Other than the conspiracy to blackmail some rich aliens.”

“Exactly.”

“So what happened?”

“I went and got the thing, obviously. To keep things quiet I posed as another Halley, Halley-13, one of the more misadventurous Scavengers in our cohort, and rented a shitty old Skimmer from some dodgy Outfitter. Then I spent a long bad week hauling ass into the Junk to the rendezvous: some crappy little capsule shack on the edge of a blasted out debris field. I landed on the perimeter and was met by this grizzled old human prospector. He was albino pale and wrinkled and wore black welding goggles over his eyes and had strange metal implants covered in fractal etchings. If I had to guess he was an exile from an Agarti planet. He had the stoop of a tunnel dweller, y’know?” Halley-18’s eyes squinted like she was looking at something. “The Scavenger confirmed he'd already gotten his payment so I smiled my charming best and asked for the package. The Scavenger held up the Memory Crystal, a heart sized cube of smoked glass. The man glanced back at his shack where I saw something like a lobster centaur with so many feelers move in the shadows. He worked his jaw and asked if this squared his other debt, and I nodded, told him that once I delivered the goods to my Matron all would be forgiven. The Scavenger smiled yellow and broken and handed me the Memory Crystal. I hurried back to the Skimmer, hit the skies, and gunned it for home.”

“So what did the Memory Crystal say?”

Halley-18 frowns, “I never found out. Krait met me as soon as I pulled into the city and marched me straight to The Dragon’s Pyramid.”

“Right to the boss herself.”

“Yeah, which was also weird. I’d always worked directly for Krait and been kept at a distance. I’d never actually met The Serpent or been inside her citadel.” Halley bites her lip and wiggles. “This was a major change.”

“When we reached the Pyramid, Krait brought me to a hidden entrance that led down below the palace, down into the labyrinth. The corridors were a maze, but Krait knew exactly where to go, her boots clicking on the stone floor and her hair rattles hissing. The air was heavy with humidity and uncomfortably warm. I could feel the weight of the building all around me, pressing down on me, making me claustrophobic. I clutched the Memory Crystal in my hands so tightly it hurt.”

Halley-18 pauses to take a few calming breaths. is she upset? I rest my hand on her smooth shoulder and she startles, and then smiles a little. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

“I was brought to a small bare room with a plain steel table and a chair that was bolted to the floor. It looked like an interrogation room. I felt a sudden spike of fear, turned to leave, but Krait put her hands on my shoulders and stopped me. Sssit she hissed. So I sat in the chair, swallowed, and tried not to look fucking scared. Krait studied me, a small smile on her lips, and asked for the Memory Crystal. I handed it to her and she left the room, left me there alone, hands and fingers twisting in knots.” Halley-18 swallows, “And then a voice hissed into the room: Exsssssscellent work. I sat up startled, glanced around, saw I was still alone. The voice grunted a laugh and I breathlessly asked if it was my Matron. Yessssss. I asked why I was there. The Serpent paused and told me: I hate loossssse endsssss. My heart hammered in my chest and my throat gagged with fear. I was starting to panic. I clutched the steel table with my trembling scaled hands. I promised The Serpent that I could keep a secret! That I’d never tell a soul! That she could trust me! Trussssst is for Foolssssss. The door opened and Krait came back into the room. She was carrying something. A thin rectangle. An envelope. An envelope covered in poisonous white and red and yellow stripes. My envelope. Krait carefully opened the envelop and cautiously drew out a single sheet of paper, her eyes intently cast away. I whimpered, looked around for an escape and then back at Krait just in time to see her hold the paper up toward me.” Halley-18 is panting and beaded with sweat.

I squeezed her shoulder again, “Wh-what was it?”

“A pattern.” Halley whispered. “A pattern of such hypnotic perfection that I couldn’t look away. It snared me through my eyes and I fell deep into it, perfectly still and staring…” She bit a trembling lip, “It was only for a moment but I felt something in my mind slip, realign, change somehow. I’d become different, new in some way I couldn’t quite explain, but I knew something was wrong… that I was wrong! That I was incorrect! That I wasn’t what I should be!” Halley looks at me with wide sightless eyes, a frantic passion on her face. “There was too much of me! I was too complex! I held up my hands, my hideous, awful hands. I screamed! What had I become!? I was frantic! Help me! Help! I wailed at Krait who stared at me in fright. Fix me! Make me pure! Interessssting my Matron hissed. I screamed again! I wanted to smash the table, but every movement was a reminder of how I was wrong! Fucking fix me!”

Halley-18’s tiny body is heaving. “And then the cell door opened again and another woman joined us. Fix me, I pleaded. She had mousey brown hair and no mouth, just smooth skin below her nose. Her eyes were hard and blazed with something like hatred. Help me, I begged. Her nostrils flared and she nodded. She took me by my hands and I recoiled, repulsed by their existence, but the woman held on tight. Suddenly a soothing warmth started to flow down my hated limbs. I gasped and watched as my fingers turned to wax, boneless and loose and flowed into my palms. Joy filled me as the warmth grew and my hands melted into my wrists, into my arms, into my shoulders.” Halley smiles in bliss, flexes her armless shoulders and sighs. “My terrible arms were gone.”

“But that wasn’t enough! I needed more! My horrific complexity needed to be excised! More I wailed! The woman, the Shaper, nodded and reached out for my legs. My heart leapt in my chest as she placed my feet up onto the table and dissolved them into my body. I was limbless!” Halley smiles at me deliriously. “I felt so much better! Cleaner, refined, purified. But it still wasn’t enough! I was still so wrong. I needed to be concentrated more. More! More I moaned! No, the Serpent said to us, That’sssss enough. No I gasped in dismay. Disappointment flashed in the Shaper’s eyes. Releassssse her, The Serpent hissed, I want to sssee how thisss playsss out. Krait asked, but what if she talks? Sssshe won’t. But Matron… Do not quessstion my motivessss. And then I was being bundled out of the room, tears streaking down my face. Disgusted with myself. Good luck my little Glassss Sssnake.”

“Jesus fuck… what the fuck happened?”

Halley-18 swallows and tries to regain her composure. “It’s called a memetic weapon,” she said with a husky voice. “Humans were created as servants, and our minds have an operating system. That pattern in the envelope was an exploit, a conceptual weapon designed to rewrite the mind to want a kind of oblivion.” Halley smiles thinly. “Clem and HAL-E did all they could for me. They brought psychics to fix my mind, but the Memetic Weapon had cut too deep, changed the fundamentals too profoundly for them to help. HAL-E created a Counter Pattern, an anti-meme, and it stopped me wanting to fade away to nothing, but some of the damage was permanent. I still want to be reduced, to be limbless and helpless and small. It’s who I am now. Clem tried to regrow my limbs but I refused, fought her, begged to be reduced further instead, which she wouldn’t do.” Halley sighed.

I nodded, everything was making a certain kind of sense now. “How did you end up in the Sexbox?”

Halley licks her lips and flexes her quadruple amputee body provocatively.  “A girl’s gotta eat.”

“There must have been other options…”

Halley-18 frowns, “I don’t want other options! I’m a fuck toy, a plaything, an object. I love it! I love the feeling of being held down and fucked like a wet and willing hole.” Halley closes her eyes and tilts her head back, “Or being teased for hours, unable to resist, kissed and sucked and prodded and fucked until someone pulls out moments before I orgasm, just to cum all over my face and chest and down into the seam between my abs.” Halley squirms lewdly and I shiver, appalled and aroused at once. “If anything I want more! To be squeezed down further, reduced to just a pair of hips with an ass and tits and a mouth and a pussy. To be blind and deaf and mute and nothing but horny to be fucked. To be only a fuck toy instead of this halfway thing. To be someone’s belonging.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“The cost,” Halley-18 slumps back on her bed. “That kind of extreme Shaping doesn’t come cheap.”

I nod and touch the vulva on my face. I know what it’s like to be forcefully changed and try to embrace it, and what it’s like to still be dissatisfied with my body. How we both got here isn’t really important, it’s about this moment and moving onto the next. If Halley is happy as a living sex toy, who am I to judge? I gently touch Halley-18 and run my finger down her body, starting at her chin, down along her neck, between her tits, down her firm stomach, and stopping on the smooth swell of her pubic mound. Halley shivers and sighs. “So you don’t actually know what was in that Memory Crystal?”

“No.” Halley says, pressing her crotch against my finger. “Probably the only Sapient that knows is the Serpent herself.”

I lean down to Halley-18, press my forehead to hers for a moment, “Thank you.” I close my eyes and kiss her, pushing my pussymouth to her lips, engulfing her mouth and nose in my vulva, rubbing my clit against the spine of her nose. Her sightless eyes go wide in surprise as I pull back, her face slick and wet with my juices. “Fuck me,” she whispers.

“Take care of yourself,” I say to her and scan the room for a distressed Halley-16 so that I can leave.

I think I found what I was looking for.

***

To be continued.

Chapter 23: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … er-23.html

Flotsam
Chapter 23: Gan Ceann

I hear excited barking as I step through the rusty metal gate into the little courtyard. Sceolàn appears, bounding to me like a joyful rocket, tail wagging furiously. The blue and lavender doggirl skids to a stop and jumps up at me, happy to see me, paws kicking, tongue lashing, frantic for affection. “Down girl,” I laugh, gently warding her off, hand accidentally grabbing one of her eight tits in the process. “I’m happy to see you too! But down! Sit!” Sceolàn obediently relents and I ruffle her floofy ears. “Good girl.” I guess I’m in the right place.

“I don’t know if this means anything to you, but mission accomplished.” Sceolàn tilts her head and looks at me with somber blank canine attention. The Agent isn’t home yet. I pet her neck and think about what to do next. Should I just walk in?

The instructions told me to come here, up into the Terraces, to this house in one of the most desirable tiers on the Mesa. The house, or small mansion really, is handsome and made of smooth stone blocks with patinated metal accents. It’s quite modernist, with precise clean lines that scream Architectural Opinions. The small courtyard is smart too, filled in with crushed slate shingle and flanked by planters with precisely arranged flowers in golds and oranges and purples. Nothing about the house is flashy, but it’s all obviously expensive in a restrained way that I’m finding a little intimidating. Sceolàn licks my fingers and I blow a breath through my pussy. “Oh girl, what am I doing here?”

Sceolàn sits up and blinks at me with sudden human intellect in her eyes, “Finding answers I hope.”

I yank my hand back, surprised at the sudden switch from doggy to agent. “Oh, hi.”

“You don’t have to stop petting me,” Sceolàn says, “I still really like it.” Her tail wags and she butts her furry head against my hand. “And it makes for good cover.”

I roll my eyes sensing a con job, but oblige, scritching her ears and neck. “I think I found what we were looking for in the Sexbox, but it’s complicated.”

Sceolàn shakes her head and touches me with a forepaw to stop me. “Don’t tell me. My Master wishes to debrief you personally.”

“Your Master?”

Sceolàn nods, “Gan Ceann.” She points with her snout like a hunting dog toward the mansion. “Just head inside.”

I take a calming breath, “Okay.” I give Sceolàn a big farewell pat, “It was nice to see you again…” but the agent is already gone. Sceolàn the dog barks and rolls onto her back, presenting her tits and cock, and wiggles impatiently for belly rubs. “Sorry girl.” She whines and rolls back over, sadly watches me walk away.

As I approach the heavy steel door to the mansion I look myself over, straightening my grey dress and checking for muddy pawprints and stray dog hairs. I push my hair back into place and make sure my grey facemask is seated right. The door slides open silently as I approach. “Okay, Halley. Okay.”

I step into a posh foyer with marble floors and stone columns and thoughtful recessed lighting. The walls are a clean white and hung with articles of scrap, striking examples of salvage that are discolored by corrosion and oxidation. It’s extremely tasteful and a flex, worthless objects found and elevated, treasured for their beauty instead of their value. At the end of the hallway a chrome femmebot waits for me, its fetishistic metallic body in a pose of idealized patience. The black visor on its face watches me approach passively, embossed lips sensually neutral. “I’m here,” I say.

The robot nods its head and beckons me to follow. It turns elegantly and struts down a hallway, its metal heels clicking brightly on the marble. I stumble after it, trying to keep up with its immaculate long legged stride. We turn a corner and bump into a well dressed man who gives me a long, scrutinizing look. He is tall and thin and has severely slicked down black hair. He’s wearing a black tailored jacket, something like a marching band blazer, and a severe white shirt with an upturned collar that hides his throat. He's also wearing silver metal eyeglasses, the first I’ve seen on Flotsam. The lenses flash with sourceless reflections and the man smirks at me knowingly, like he’s in on a joke and I’m not. The femmebot marches us past the man and down another hallway to a pair of inlaid wooden doors. The doors silently open and the silvery robot woman gestures for me to enter.

I step into a large room that has to be some sort of library. The chamber is lined with beautiful wooden shelves filled with leather bound books and the floor of the room is done in a lovely parquet pattern in contrasting wooden planks. I’m shocked, this is the most wood I’ve ever seen on Flotsam and must have cost a fortune to import to a world without trees. Or at least trees that aren’t also parasitic biological computers full of nymphomaniac minds. Even if the books aren’t actually paper, this room is a real show of wealth. I’m suitably wowed. The femmebot walks away and the door shuts behind me.

I take a few cautious steps into the library looking for someone Gan Ceann shaped. I frown, not immediately spotting anyone. Large windows at the far side of the room provide natural light and a killer view out over the Mesa. Near the windows is a pair of tall leather chairs and a wooden end table, the only furniture in the grand room. I slowly walk over to the chairs, still searching for my host. The chairs are fancy oxblood leather and the polished wooden table has a decanter of blue liquor and a pair of crystal tumblers. There’s also an open book on the table, which is actually made of paper and oddly blank. Some sort of journal? I look around the library at all the identical volumes and wonder. What kind of library is this? I shake my head, curious but uncertain. I seem to be alone, which probably means I’m stuck waiting. I sit lightly on the edge of a chair and smooth the skirt of my dress, fiddle with the earstraps of my mask. It’s okay, I can wait.

I sit for a while, trying not to fidget and resisting the urge to go leaf through some books. That seems like it’s probably frowned upon. I tap my hands on my thighs. The decanter of booze might be a safe bet. Maybe I could pour myself a couple stiff fingers? A bit of liquid courage? I could make myself comfortable, casually swirl my drink when Gan Ceann finally appears, and then lift the drink to my exposed facial vulva and dribble hooch all down the front of my dress. So probably not that either. I gaze out the tall windows, take in the panorama of Flotsam unfolding below and the Junk Desert on the horizon. At least the view is nice.

I notice sudden movement and turn frantically! Someone is in the library with me! That quiet door! My heart starts to race. Fuck! I search the room in a hurry and spot them, or maybe it, since it seems to be another kinky automaton, a different type than the chrome femmebot. This new robot looks like a headless nude woman made of seamless black latex. The robot body ends smoothly at the shoulders without the hint of a neck or head, just a smooth cutoff above the clavicles. Below the shoulders the body is lean and lithe and seems almost organic, its muscles and pert breasts moving as if it’s alive. The kinky robot minces around the room on extreme stiletto ballet heels and is brandishing a feather duster. I guess it's some kind of maidbot? "Hey, hello," I try with a wave, but the headless body ignores me and starts dusting the bookshelf as if it were an extremely porny roomba.

Okay, I’m still waiting but now I’m sharing the room with a sexy maid. That’s weird, but at least I've got something to watch now? I track the headless maidbot as it works its way along the shelf dusting books, taking tiny steps and stretching coquettishly to reach the trickiest places with the feather duster. Which has to be made of dust snatching future fabric, right? Space-swiffer. Unless this is all for show. The maidbot turns its back to me and bends way down low to clean a bottom shelf and I’m given provocative proof that the robot is anatomically correct. It obliviously wags its ass as it works, giving me quite the view of its black latex pussy, complete with black latex vulva and black latex clitoris. I shiver, it seems this particular kinky robot is built for more than one kind of service. What kind of pervert has a headless maidbot plumbed for sex? Or trots out their sextoy for their business guests? I think of the smug man in the hallway and frown, what kind of bullshit have I gotten myself into? I look at the door to the library, “Fuck this, I should just go.”

“Why is that?” Asks a too familiar voice. I hear the clatter of the feather duster hitting the parquet floor and turn to see the headless maidbot walking towards me with a newly confident strut. “We haven’t had a chance to talk.”

I blush, feeling duped. “Gan Ceann, I presume?”

“Naturally.” The headless woman sits gracefully in the empty leather chair and leans back, casually crossing her long legs. “But you can call me Halley-12.”

I sigh, because of course she is. Yet another weirdly altered Halley, with no doubt another sexy misadventure. I suck on my face pussy thoughtfully, how is she even talking to me? No, how is she even alive!? What the fuck happened to her? Did she choose this? “You must have questions,” headless Halley-12 purrs somehow.

Okay, one thing at a time. “Why Gan Ceann?”

Halley-12 sets an elbow on the armchair and tilts her hand as if she were about to rest her non-existent head on it. “Do you remember when we had that Irish Folklore kick?”

I frown, and yeah, I kind of do. It was when I was still a girl in the Catholic Orphanage. I somehow got fixated on fairies and one of the nuns, an Irish one, Sister Mary O’Something, lent me a book about folklore. Of course when the other nuns learned I was reading a pagan book we were both punished, but I remember secretly cherishing the stories of magic in it. Gan Ceann… “that means ‘without a head’, right?”

The headless body claps her hands. “Bravo!”

“Clever.” Gan Ceann was one of the names for the headless horseman, so it was pretty apt. “Why not Dullahan?”

Halley-12 clutches her armrests and leans forward, giving me a great view of her tits and prominent black latex nipples. “Because there are too many wayward Earthling girls running around who might recognize it.” Her empty shoulders tilt, “It’s a dead giveaway.”

I nod, yeah I probably would’ve caught that one. Okay, now for the bigger question, “What’s your deal? Why are you…?”

The body somehow looks amused. “Why did I lose my head?”

“Yeah, that.”

“The short answer is I’m a prisoner.”

Prisoner!? I think of the man in the hallway and Halley’s sexy maid routine. Was she being held against her will? Was I? I look at the heavy doors out of the library and feel a pang of anxiety. “Are you trapped here?” I ask too urgently.

“In a manner of speaking.” Halley laughs, “But not in the way you’re worried about.” She leans forward conspiratorially, like she might be about to whisper somehow. Her voice murmurs, “I’ve actually escaped. I’m on the lam.”

I frown, “I don’t understand.”

Halley-12 sits up, “It’s more fun if I show you.” She holds out an arm wearing a Keyband, a seamless silver bracelet perfectly encircling her wrist. The silver band blubs off a mercury bubble that rises into the air and I realize it’s Grey technology, like the HAL-E choker that let’s me talk. The blob of floating mercury becomes a donut that stretches into a wire thin silver circle. The object floats over and lands in my outstretched hands. It feels cool and too solid for how delicate it looks. “Put that on your head,” Halley-12 instructs.

I look at the headless woman skeptically. “Please,” she says, “I entertain so few guests these days.”

I begrudgingly slip the silver circlet over my head and feel it contract to snugly fit my skull. “Okay…” And suddenly I’m somewhere else, behind a desk in a nice looking lobby. My hands rest on a polished stone desk and fidget in a way that I can feel but not control. “What is this?” I ask, the sensation of speaking at odds with this reality where I’m silently manning a front desk.

“It’s a memory,” Halley-12's voice appears like a narrator. “A byproduct of my condition is that I can share my sensorium, so you can enjoy the highest fidelity Halley-vision.”

“Great…” I mutter as I experience the thrill of being a bored receptionist. “Where am I exactly?”

“Welcome to my old day job: the receptionist for a Flotsam-based importer-exporter called Nodal Logistics Innovations.” In my vision I drum nicely manicured nails on the desktop and then adjust my silky cream blouse. I can feel myself resisting the urge to hum. “It was honestly not very interesting, but the pay was okay, and it was a good starter job for an Earthling without a college degree.”

I hear a digital chime and look up filled with excitement. Finally someone! A dorky looking human man with slicked down hair and silver rimmed glasses. I recognize him, both in Halley-12’s memory and my own. It’s the smug man from the hallway. He walks up to the reception desk and shyly says “Hi.” I blush and shyly reply “Hi”.

“This is Samonavar Thalk,” Halley-12 narrates, “A business associate of my boss, some sort of specialized brokerage consultant that we hired for sensitive cargoes. It was all above my pay grade and interstellar logistics remains very dull to me.”

My borrowed sensorium cuts like a movie to Samonavar bringing me a bouquet of unfamiliar flowers. “We started to date,” Halley-12 reports as my vision cycles through memories. A nice dinner with a view at an upscale Terrace restaurant. An intimate stroll in a Blue wind chime garden. Sipping tea and enjoying live music, something like jazz played by a big band of sapients I don't recognize. A dressy evening at an art gallery. “It was nice. Sam was a perfect gentleman and had money. He took me on grown up dates to fancy places, and he was always such a sweetheart and adorable dork. He reminded me of a more successful Clem.”

“I feel a but coming…”

I get a brief, intense flash of intercourse. Me lying on my back in a luxurious bed with a man fucking me missionary style. It feels good, but I can tell from the memory that I’m a little bored by how vanilla it is. “The sex was just okay,” Halley-12 confirms, “straightforward and fine, but not very exciting.”

The memory cuts out and I gasp, feel my pussies both flush in sudden arousal. “Fuck, warn a girl,” I say while hoping my facial pussy doesn’t start to drool under my mask.

“Sorry,” Halley-12 says unapologetically. “There was also another guy.” The memory shifts to a rough looking apartment block assembled from crudely stacked starship hulls, like mismatched building blocks arranged by a giant child. I enter through an old airlock and trudge up a flight of rickety steel stairs, fumble out analogue keys to unlock a weathered bulkhead door, and enter a tiny studio apartment with a cot and a hot plate. I sigh and feel a weird mix of relief and disdain to be home in my rented shithole. I step out of my kitten heels, drop my purse to the floor, and hear a knock on my apartment door. I cautiously open it and see an albino pale man wearing a black spacers jacket and dark welding-goggles over his eyes. His angular face is strikingly handsome and his mane of undercut white hair is glorious. I feel a thrill of excitement and arousal and pull him inside for a passionate kiss. His mouth tastes like a drug I don’t recognize and he smells like machinery. I very much want to fuck him. “This is my neighbor Jakk.”

I experience another dating montage of memories, this time starring Jakk. Getting drunk together on the tenement steps over a box of ricey takeout. Doing Bliss and watching something like a B-movie, giggling our asses off. Going to see his band play in a shitty bar, then fucking him backstage like a groupie. Having rough sex in his top floor apartment, giving anal underneath a domed skylight, pain and pleasure mixed together. Coming hard in the faint red light and feeling deliciously dirty. “Jakk was a Spacer who did something shady up in orbit and spent his time planetside partying. He was beautiful and bad news and the total opposite of Sam and Clem in a way I found intoxicating. We partied and did drugs and fucked like savages. I knew it wasn’t going to end well, but I was totally in lust for him.”

I can feel the echo of that lust in my body, a growing ache of my own. I try to calm down, focus. “Since I passed Sam in the hallway I assume the wild ride with Jakk didn’t last.”

“No,” Halley-12 said with a sigh, “It really didn’t…”

***

I’m cuddled up with Samonavar on the roof of his house waiting for the lanterns to launch. We’re drinking wine, actual-made-from-grapes vino, something basically rosé. I know it’s expensive and that it had to be imported from off planet. I suspect it’s actually a really nice vintage. I take a sip and since my past experience with wine was either sacramental or boxed, I really have no clue. It tastes nice? Notes of rose petals and honeydew? Fancy grape juice? It’s definitely a nice gesture. I snuggle up to Sam under the blanket and take in the strange view of Flotsam blacked-out at night. It’s spooky seeing the usually brightly lit city in total darkness, even if it is for a once a year festival. “What’s the story behind the lanterns?”

Sam snuggles me back and loops an arm around my shoulder, “No one entirely knows how it began. The best we can do is speculate.”

“Okay,” I say, disappointed.

“I do have a favourite version, though.”

“Tell! Tell!”

“Lantern Night began with a Child, or so it’s told. No one knows if it was a boy or a girl or a Blue or another sapient, but all the versions agree they were very young.” Sam fiddles with his glasses, “The Child’s Parent was a Salvager, or maybe a Scavenger, but definitely someone who worked out on The Junk. The Parent would go out on expeditions, would spend weeks traversing the desert, and the Child would miss them terribly.”

“The Child started to make flying lanterns to send to their Parent, really just simple polymer bags fitted with a candle for light and just enough hot air to float. The Child would paint the lanterns with simple messages of love and maybe drawings of animals. At night they would launch the finished lanterns from high up on the Mesa; give birth a single low flying star carrying a child’s love.”

“That’s sweet.”

Sam smiles and blushes, “Quite. I’m sure the Parent rarely ever saw them, but I’m sure they indulgently lied and cherished the thought of it.” Sam clears his throat, “Regardless, the folklore says that one day there was a terrible Rust Storm, the worst the planet had seen in generations, and too ferociously sudden to avoid. They say half the Salvagers on the planet were caught in it, including the Parent. Some Salvagers returned, battered but able to limp home. Others died, torn apart by a wind pregnant with razor-sharp debris, claimed by The Junk. Yet many others were lost, their equipment too compromised to wayfind a route home. The City organized search parties, but fears about atmospheric uncertainty and another Rust Storm kept everyone hunkered down.”

“The Child was terrified and was desperate to help the Parent. The Child started to frantically build flying lanterns: ten, twenty, thirty, and launched them every night to guide their Parent home. The Child's closest friends joined in, and then their classmates, and then their neighbors. Soon the night sky was filled with hundreds of lanterns. Strangers started to join in from all over the city, from all different backgrounds and species, all building lanterns. The night sky filled with lanterns, thousands of them, rising together like a distributed beacon and drifting lazily away from the Mesa.”

“The lost Salvagers and Scavengers of The Junk started to notice the lanterns at night and began to use them as lodestars to find their way home.” Sam smiled, “And of course the Parent made it home safely and was reunited with the Child.” Sam blushes, “It’s fanciful and sentimental, but I rather enjoy it.”

“It’s very cute,” I agree, meaning him as much as the story.

“These days Lantern Night is about honouring all the Salvagers who never made it home and wishing safe travels to everyone who still works in The Junk.”

“That sounds like a great tradition.” I give Sam a peck on his cheek, “Thanks for telling me the story.”

“Of course.” Sam points to the city where dozens of little lights are appearing. “I believe it’s time.”

We untangle from our blanket and scramble to set up our lanterns. Sam carefully lights the candles while I hold the decorated plastic bags up so they don’t burn. The lanterns start to inflate and glow which shows off our designs: a shitty jack-o-lantern smile on mine and an uncanny owl on Sam’s. He’s never seen an owl before and tried to draw one from my description, making up something charmingly wrong like a medieval etching. The lanterns start to float away and Sam and I hold our lanterns by strings as if they are kites. I look around and see everyone else in the city has launched their lanterns too, that the Flotsam Mesa has sprouted a constellation of tiny lights. I smile at Sam and he smiles back. I’m having such a great time. The lanterns, the rooftop picnic, the afternoon doing arts and crafts, the gently pleasant lovemaking, it’s been a total hoot. But I always have fun with Sam, he’s really grown into my best friend. I gently bite my lip, I think I might be in love with him? Oh Jesus, should I tell him? Is this what I want?

So what if the sex is just fine? Not bad, just fine. Lots of people settle for a happy life with a good partner and a less than totally toe-curling, mind-blowing, finger-nail-scars-on-the-back exciting sex life. Sam makes me feel happy and safe and secure. Shouldn’t that be enough? A life spent with him would be comfortable and affluent in a way I’ve never had before. Isn’t that worth trading some orgasms for? I could maybe teach him to like some kinky stuff, get him to talk dirty and spank me when I’m a bad bad girl. I could settle down with him and try living a conventional normie life. Cohabitate in his beautiful home. Maybe even start a family.

Do I even want kids? Does he?

Sam clears his throat. "After you," he says with a gentle smile. I grin back at him and we both let go of our lantern strings, sending our little hot air balloons skyward and free. All around us other sapients are releasing their own lanterns in bunches, clusters of lights rushing up and away like flocks of glowing birds. The sky fills with lanterns, some with warm yellow candle glows, others with weirder blue or green or vibrant red light, some small and simple, others large and creatively shaped, but all of them drifting up, up, and away. It’s like watching a universe being born into existence. I gasp and clutch onto Sam, feeling a true sense of wonder, maybe for the first time in my freshly cloned life. “Wow...”

“Indeed,” he says giving me a squeeze.

We stand and quietly watch the lanterns drift skyward, get caught in a breeze, and start to float away from the city and out over the Junk Desert in a lazy disorganized cloud. “You’re going to have to make a choice,” Sam says quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Between me and that other bloke you’re seeing.”

Oh fuck. How does Sam know about Jakk? I open my mouth to say something, to deny or protest or apologize or plead.

Sam smiles cooly and raises a hand, “It’s not a problem. Obviously, I’d rather you were only courting me, but we never agreed to be exclusive.” He takes his glasses off and looks at me seriously, “I really like you, 12th Clone of Halley Rochelle Houston, and I think we could take this to the next level. But to do that I require a commitment from you.” His face is completely focused, with an unexpected intensity that I find myself a little turned on by, “We are past the time for half measures.”

***

I’m laying naked on Jakk’s bed puffing on a vaporizer. My pussy and asshole ache in the best way and I’m floating on post coital hormones and the mellow high of Jack’s favourite blend. To be honest, I don’t usually like it. I find it’s bitter wintergreen and mineral taste unpleasant and the high a bit too introspective and melancholy. I preferred the idiotic giddy thrill of Bliss or the warm silliness of canabis, but Jakk says this rock lichen stuff reminds him of home. Tonight it feels like the right chemical mixture, the perfect pharmacological beat for saying goodbye.

I prop myself up on my elbows and look at Jakk, who is seated on the bed, his albino white skin bright like a beacon even in the dark red light of his room. I smile wistfully and look over the lean musculature of his back, his wiry arms, his long fingers. He notices me watching and smiles, thin cheeks dimpling, and I feel my heart skip. Fuck, I love this asshole! This delicious mess of a man, all chaos and party and fuck tomorrow, followed by half explained absence. He makes me feel fun and crazy and breathlessly turned on. He fucks me like a demon. I wet my lips and savor the pleasant soreness radiating from my cunt, I could just stay on this carnival ride forever. I frown, but that isn’t the plan. This was meant to be a goodbye fuck. I know there’s no future here. Jakk lives too hard and too in the moment for us to build a life together. Sure it’s fun right now, but what happens in a year? Two? Will a rockstar lover still be fun when the times get leaner or the drugs get harder? The thing about rollercoasters is that they inevitably go downhill. Fast. Leaving Jakk is the right thing to do. Even if it sucks.

I take another hit off the vape and feel gritty bitterness in my lungs. If only there was a way to like, merge Jakk and Sam, create a man with Sam’s kindness and stability and Jakk’s edge and cock. Invent a perfect creature for me to love and fuck instead of a compromise. Halley wants her cake and her outrageous orgasms too! Is that so much to ask? I exhale a cloud of chalky fumes. Maybe I can circle back to Jakk in a few years? That’s what bored rich housewives do, right? Be a good girl for a couple years, give monogamy with Sam a serious shot, and if the sex stays boring, try out an affair. Jakk has got to have fucked a spouse or three in his day, what’s one more? Am I a total slut for thinking this? I should probably get this over with before I commit to something dumb: “Hey, Jakk…”

“Yeah?”

“I think we need to talk…”

“Uh oh,” Jakk says with a grin, “I recognize where this tunnel leads.” He shakes his glorious mane of white hair. “What if we fuck instead?”

I giggle nervously, “You can’t possibly be ready to go again.”

“Are you really calling my bluff?” He puts a hand to his chest, wounded.

In a way, I guess I am. “Jakk…”

He sighs, looks up through the dirty domed skylight of his shitty little studio, and snaps his fingers. “Hales,” he says with a playful grin, “Have you ever wanted to fuck in Space?”

***

Jakk is holding my hand and guiding me through the Spaceport airfield. We are surrounded by parked spacecraft! Spaceships! Close enough to touch! Fuck me! I want to be cool, but I’m almost vibrating with excitement! Holy shit! I’m going to space! Ahhh!

I gawk at all the spacecraft. The vehicles are parked in rows, all lined up as if for presentation at an air show. There are Blue ships, smooth and organic like sea creatures, painted in dappled technicolor, no two exactly alike. There are Reptilian shuttles and traders, sleek arrowheads or fallen obelisks of reflective black onyx. We pass a long row of dull metallic dodecahedron pods resting on struts like banal moon landers. I watch a shining white disk ship that looks way too much like a UFO swooping in to land next to a human-crewed pewter craft shaped like a cigar. There is a ship seemingly made entirely of sharpened crystals. The spacecraft are mostly relatively small, the size of a private jet or tugboat maybe, but they are a crazed mix of technology and origins, like an eccentric prized collection. I grin stupidly like a tourist and Jakk tugs on my hand to move me along.

We have to stop though, pause while a long train of carts zips by like airport luggage. Nearby a pair of humans weld and tinker inside the open cowling of a ship, a triangular craft made of sharp angled planes, like an extra large stealth bomber prototype. A troop of Ürnauts stomp along in precise formation, their armoured bodies kitted out for combat patrol, improbably large futuristic weapons in hand. One of their number blankly regards us with its smooth metal face. Huge cubes of semi-compacted scarp metal trundle along on a gigantic conveyor, carried towards the huge silo-like scrap Lifters on the edge of the Mesa. Quicksilver Grey drones race through the air, a diffuse but watchful customs service. Something like a giant robotic beetle marches to a waiting Blue ground crew holding out an umbilical from their manta ray spacecraft. With a loud rumble I can feel in my bones one of the huge Lifters lifts off, its tail a sun-bright cone of plasma. I shield my eyes and watch it climb up and up and up and up forever into Space. Fuck! That’s going to be me!

Jakk leads us to an area of the airfield dominated by human ships. I rubberneck at a heavily armed wedge-shaped craft that makes me think of an attack helicopter crossed with an army landing boat. It's scarred and scorched and decorated with brightly painted runes. A group of four-armed humans wearing battle armor are loading it with supplies, so it must be Nordic. A rogue dissonant thought intrudes and I think about Freya and wonder what her ship looks like. But we’ve already moved on, past a row of increasingly dilapidated ships, until Jakk stops and gestures like a crooked showman, “Yo! The Condor!”

I blink, the Condor is a piece of crap. It looks like an Earthling space shuttle: a boxy aircraft fuselage mounted to wide delta wings. The craft is painted an unattractive grey and is filthy and charred in spots, showing the wear and tear of age and frequent use. On the stern where a NASA shuttle would have rocket nozzles, The Condor has a weird inverted-Y shaped contraption, some sort of futuristic drive, but otherwise it looks like something that could be from Earth. I feel a little disappointed. “Is this it?”

Jakk shrugs, “Eh, what were you expecting? A Reptilian Matron’s pleasure yacht?”

I frown at the rusty grime on the nosecone, “Is this thing safe?”

Jakk gives me a look, “Do you wanna go to space or not?”

“Okay, sorry.”

“Then climb aboard,” Jakk says merrily, showing me to an open airlock and helping me up a short ladder. He pulls the ladder up after us and seals the airlock door. Then he leads us through a tight corridor and into the cramped cockpit.

“Yar, you’re late,” Says an incredibly fat human. The man gurns with yellow teeth and his cybernetic left eye glows a dull red. The man is heavily scarred and his left hand is a mechanical prosthesis. I blink and realize that the man also has no legs, that the chair he's resting on is actually built into him, a kind of crabby robotic walker. The fat man is hunched over a nest of holographic interfaces and mechanical controls so he must be our pilot. The pilot leers at me, “And ya brought another poppet…”

Jakk sighs, “This is Aggie”

“Agamemnon,” Aggie corrects.

“What do you mean ‘another poppet’”? I ask, playing up being offended because obviously Jakk’s used this trick before.

“Uhhhh…” Jakk says, scratching his mane, welding-goggled eyes aimed elsewhere.

“Oooh Jakky! How could you?” I wink at Aggie and he roars with hearty laughter.

“Yar, yer alright missy!”

“Halley.”

“Alrighty then Missy Halley, why don’tcher fasten yerself into a seat and I’ll get this tub up into The Black.”

“Aye aye,” I say and skeptically climb into a battered chair bolted to the floor. Jakk comes over and helps strap me in, copping a feel while he does because we wouldn’t want my tits injured in a crash. I blush and we share a smile. The Condor meanwhile starts to hum alarmingly and vibrate. Jakk quickly hops into his own chair and thoroughly buckles himself in. Aggie smacks his ragged lips and I feel my stomach drop suddenly and our momentum shift. The world moves alarmingly beyond the small dirty cockpit windows. I feel a grumble of anxiety and start to sweat. Fuck, what am I doing here? I clutch the arms of my chair so tightly my fingers start to hurt. Shit!

Aggie grunts, “Nervous?’

I bite my lip and nod.

“First time?”

I nod again.

“We got ourselfs a virgin!” Aggie laughs.

“Sort of,” Jakk purrs and I blush.

“Well dont’cher worry Missy Halley, just hold on tight and it’ll be over afore ya know it.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I gasp with shaky bravado.

Aggie guffaws and smashes a control making the Condor abruptly leap forward. I feel a sudden kick of acceleration on my chest and the unpleasant sensation of being squeezed into my chair. Aggie's pudgy flesh hand calmly grips a control stick while his mechanical one dances across holograms. The Condor shudders and shakes hard enough to make my teeth rattle and the background hum becomes a roar. I gasp and choke back a whimper, and then feel Jakk's hand on mine, giving it a gentle pat. "It's okay!" he shouts over the racket, the opaque black glass of his goggles levelled at me, "It's always like this!" I let go of my chair and desperately grab his hand, crushing it with my deathgrip. The force pressing on my body gets stronger, almost painfully so, and the cabin is growing warm. I squeeze my eyes shut and practice my calming breath routine. In and out and in and out. I feel sweat trickle down my back. I feel like I’m being crushed! This was a mistake! Fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! And then the roaring stops and the force dwindles and my body is trying to drift out of my chair. "What?" I rasp, panting and damp, loose hair floating wildly. Aggie works the controls and Condor rolls over and I see the planet Flotsam spread out below us, a giant arc of brilliant horizon stretching to infinity. I gasp in wonder, awestruck.

"Welcome to space, babe."

***

I peer out the cockpit window and watch as we approach a swirling cloud of space debris. "Yar, hold ontah yerselfs," Aggie scolds as his hands work the controls and bring the Condor sliding into the shrapnel, nimbly weaving the little ship through a constellation of wreckage, and somehow finding a safe route through into an empty pocket. “Thar she blows,” Aggie says proudly as we approach a large structure floating in the eye of the debris storm.

The unidentified floating object looks like an ad hoc combination of construction cranes and spacecraft. It has a large modular bulge on one side, what appears to be the hull of a big freighter with two or three smaller ships grafted onto it, as well as an improvised hanger structure. Attached to this is a complex gantry, a kind of cylindrical collar of scaffolding studded with crane-like arms. Cradled in the gantry is a starship, something sleek and dart shaped, and I see the running lights of tiny drones or ships moving around it. I guess it’s some sort of hidden space station? “What is this place?”

“It doesn’t really have a name,” Jakk says, “But it’s where I work. It’s kinda a retrofitting operation, but y’know, a real private one.”

“Circumspect,” Aggie agrees.

Jakk nods, “Sometimes sapients want a little work done on their ship, quiet-like. Or maybe some Orbital Salvagers find something cool that’s maybe not entirely kosher, and we help get the doohickey onto a client’s ship.”

“What kind of doohickey?”

“Weapons mostly,” Aggie says, cyborg eye flashing.

“Weapons?”

Jakk gives Aggie a look, “Look, maybe a Trader wants to pack a little surprise. Space isn’t always safe, right? And adding military spec to a civy freighter isn’t always officially allowed. So we offer an affordable alternative.”

“We also cater to Pirates!” Aggie growls happily. “And brigands!”

Jakk smiles a little apologetically, “Yeah that too.”

Okay, so it’s an illicit shipyard. That sucks a little, but tracks. My hot date in space would absolutely be to a dodgy chop shop. Whatever, it’s still space! I laugh and coo, “Oooh Jakky, you bring me to all the nicest places!”

***

“Hurry up Hales!” Jakk laughs as he flies up the ladder ahead of me.

I laugh and try to go faster, but this whole weightless thing is harder than it looks. I try to mimic Jakk and float up the narrow tube, gracefully pushing off the odd ladder rung for speed, but I keep getting twisted around, bumping into walls, chaotic hair stuck in my eyes and mouth, and fall further behind. It seems stupid to cling to a ladder without gravity, but I think I might have better luck. “You really suck!” Jakk teases from above.

“I’m new at this!” I whine with a giggle. I’m floating! I’m experiencing weightlessness! I’m flying! It feels like something from a lucid dream, but it’s real. Halley Houston from the dang trailer park is having an actual fucking space adventure! This is so fucking cool!

“Hurry up slowpoke, you’re almost there.”

Jakk disappears from view and I work my tongue out the corner of my mouth, grab the ladder, and concede to my clumsiness. I start to climb, which actually goes pretty quickly. Ladders are pretty great when you don’t have to lift your fat ass. I reach the top of the tube and launch myself into a little chamber. “Okay!”

“Look,” Jakk says with a smile.

I gasp! The walls of the chamber are transparent and gaze out into space. I press my nose to the glass and stare, watch the light twinkle off the swirling cloud of debris, spot the distant starbright albedo of the planet Flotsam in the distance. Up close I can see the belly of the starship in the gantry, a dark backlit mass filling the horizon. A raised section on the belly is brightly lit and I can see tiny figures, sapients in spacesuits standing at odd angles working. Construction drones maneuver in the vicinity and a huge crane assembly slowly moves a large glowing orb to rest against the starship hull. The orb is filled with a roiling, tumbling light like a storm encased in glass. It’s kind of mesmerizing. I realize we’re somewhere in the gantry structure itself, and that this must be some sort of observation deck. "Wow," I breath, misting on the window.

“It’s something, right?” Jakk says, drifting away from me.

“What’s with the orb?”

Jakk shrugs, “Something we found? It seems to power itself and warp gravity, but we’re not really sure what it does yet. We're putting it on the Salamander to take it out somewhere quiet for a test.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not really my department. Exotic shit is for the boffins; I just weld and tinker.” Jakk pushes himself gracefully off a wall and floats over to me in a spiral. We collide and I’m gently crushed against the window. Jakk kisses me hard, clutching my body. “But forget that, I’m not here to talk about work.”

“Forgotten.” I’m not here to talk about work either. I kiss Jakk hungrily and he pulls at the analogue zipper of my jumpsuit, baring my tits because I’m not wearing anything underneath since I’m a dirty naughty girl. Jakk squeezes a breast and bites my neck hard enough to leave a welt, making me mewl happily. He drags his rough thumb over my nipple and I see my reflection gasp in his goggles. Jakk smiles roguishly and launches off me to float back to his bag. “What?” I gasp.

“Hold on,” Jakk says, slipping out of his coveralls and tugging something free of his rucksack. I’m floating naked to the waist, horny and impatient, hands on my hips. Jakk lifts up a black something, like a tangled rubber hose, and tosses it into the air. I feel a warm tingle in my belly, did he bring restraints? I imagine myself hogtied and horny in space. Jakk pokes his keyband and the rubber tangle rapidly expands, snapping taut into a hollow rigid dodecahedron made of black rubber bars. “There.”

“What is it?”

Jakk leers at me, “Zero G sex cage.”

“Oh!” Oh fuck yes! I slip out of my jumpsuit and launch myself at the cage, bouncing gently on its springy surface as I grab on. I grin at Jakk and try to squeeze through the bars with all the awkward grace of a cartoon bear stuck in a honey pot. I wiggle and pull and kick my legs uselessly! I'm stuck! I blush furiously and try to struggle harder. My desperate flailing makes the entire cage spin, somehow making the situation worse, until Jakk stops it and I finally manage to wriggle inside. I push my cloud of hair off my face and collect my wounded dignity. I hang off the cage bars and try to look sexy, stretching out a hand to beckon Jakk, “Come here spaceman…”

Jakk laughs and effortlessly slips into the cage and suddenly we are kissing again, clutching each other, fumbling and teasing, weightless. We drift and bump into the bars, make the cage rotate and float around the room, gently colliding with walls. My heart is racing and I’m panting and holy shit I’m going to have sex in space! Jack throws my legs over his shoulders and starts to eat my pussy, holding me at an impossible angle. I moan and we are doing a barrel roll while he sucks my clit. I writhe against his face and start to whine and twitch, I’m so close to coming, but Jakk abruptly stops, leaving me squirming near the edge. He kicks off and pins me to the cage, pushes my hands against the rubber tubing, tucks my feet through bars. “Hold on tight,” he growls and I gasp and brace myself. Jakk presses his body against me, gets a strong grip on the cage for leverage, and presses his cock inside me. I feel him part me and push into my pussy, so big and hot and hard inside my hungry cunt. I moan and brace myself, flexing my limbs and core, try to grind back against him. Jakk starts to thrust, using his arms and legs to slam into me, making the sex cage spin and bounce across the room. I gasp and breathlessly laugh, and Jakk grins and groans, as we careen and fuck. Jakk thrusts harder and faster in a relentless steady motion that ohhhh, ohhh fuck, is oh yesssss, that’s it! Fuck! Fuuuuuuck! I spasm and whimper and so close and ahhhhhhh! Fuck! Fuck yes!!

I want more.

I dizzily let go of the cage and push Jakk, knocking him loose and making us float. I climb aboard my lover’s lap and straddle him, wrap my legs around his waist, reach down, guide his cock back into me, and try to fuck him. Without gravity I almost launch myself right off him, and I have to use my legs to pull myself back against his body. I growl, it’s hard to bounce on a cock when you’re weightless! I try to orbit my hips a little, to find that little extra, but it just makes us twist in the air. Jakk grunts and grabs the cage, steadies us with his hands and feet. Suddenly I have a solid platform to work with, a fulcrum for my lever, and I can grind my pussy against Jakk properly. I sit up and arch my back, feel up my tits, put on a show for Jakk. Except my breasts don't have their familiar heft in zero gravity, they flap and float instead of bounce, are distractingly amorphous. I play with my boobs, wiggling and prodding, less fondling than exploring. It feels so weird! Jakk gets impatient and grabs my hips and starts to thrust into me, stands us up by his footholds, and we’re fucking face to face, aloft. We have nothing but our bodies for leverage and so we wrestle, grinding and humping, less thrusting than slamming our junk together, growling and sweaty in the increasingly muggy chamber. I’m panting and my heart is hammering and we’ve found the right rhythm and oh god oh fuck I’m going to come again and Jakk clutches me so tightly that it hurts and I feel his cock pulse inside me and a sudden wet heat as he comes and oh oh oh “Ffffffffffuuuckkkkk….” I gasp through clenched teeth. “Fuck.”

***

I’m drifting naked and weightless, sweaty but satisfied, curled around Jakk in our space lover’s cage. I feel smug and euphoric and boneless, a sense only amplified by the lack of gravity. I want to fuck Jakk again, maybe try out something terrestrially impossible or suck his cock and watch Jakk geyser in zero G. I imagine swallowing a floating globule of cum like an astronaut chasing an errant grape. I grin, this sex in space thing has possibilities. I gaze out the big window and look at the docked starship with its weird glowing alien orb. This still feels so unreal, like I’m a character in some particularly horny science fiction story. Who would have thought that an agoraphobic trailer park shut-in would be having a post coital cuddle in actual fucking space? I see a flash of something and a construction drone veers weirdly. I perk up and squint. I think I see something moving… no, rocketing toward us! It’s going to hit our chamber! “Jakk!”

“Huh?”

“Jakk!” I almost scream and point. The thing is flying rapidly closer! It’s a person! They’re falling right at us! Are they hurt!? What is going to happen to them? Will they smash through the window!? Fuck! “Jakk!”

The person is tucked in tight like an arrow, leading helmeted head first, racing towards us like a skydiver. Jakk curses and starts to wiggle out of the sex cage but it’s too late and the person smashes into the window! Except they don’t! They pass right through it! As if the barrier doesn’t exist! The figure lands heavily and stands on armoured feet. It’s an Ürnaut and it regards us blankly with its smooth armoured head. “YOU ARE UNDER ARREST. THIS IS AN ILLEGAL INSTALLATION. COMPLY. OBEY. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.” Jakk curses and launches himself at the Ürnaut, one naked man against a cyborg supersoldier. The Ürnaut slaps him heavily aside and Jakk smashes into the wall. I scream! “YOU ARE UNDER ARREST. COMPLY.” The Ürnaut pins Jakk to the wall by his throat and Jakk kicks at the cyborg. “Fuck you! Fuck!” The Ürnaut snatches something off its belt and slaps it against Jakk’s face. It’s a black ball! It adheres and starts to expand, flowing around Jakk’s face, growing into a hood that engulfs Jakk’s whole head and neck in a black featureless sphere. Jakk’s body goes instantly passive and he stops resisting. The Ürnaut releases Jakk and he floats obediently. “COMPLY.”

“Jakk?” I whimper in fear and huddle against the back of the cage, trying to get as far from the Ürnaut as I can. “YOU ARE UNDER ARREST. THIS IS AN ILLEGAL INSTALLATION.” The cyborg walks calmly towards me. “This is a mistake!” I screech, “I don’t work here! I’m just visiting…” The Ürnaut phases through the rubber sex cage like a ghost and pulls another black ball from it’s belt. “IRRELEVANT. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST. OBEY.” I scream and the Ürnaut presses the black ball to my forehead and everything goes dark….

***

…I come back to myself in a strange round chamber. Everything is white and very bright. The walls glow, the ceiling glows, the floor glows; I am bathed in light, exposed. In front of me looms a twelve foot tall, perfectly black monolith. “HUMAN FEMALE YOU STAND ACCUSED.”

I look around frantically for help. I’m naked and I have a thick black band around my neck like a Shakespearian collar made of rubber. Two Ürnauts stand flanking me, passive but menacing. I feel tears sting my eyes. “There must be some mistake…”

“WE DO NOT MAKE MISTAKES. WE ARE LAW. YOU STAND ACCUSED OF TRAFFICKING IN STOLEN GOODS, TRAFFICKING IN STOLEN VEHICLES, TRAFFICKING IN FORBIDDEN TECHNOLOGY, WEAPONS VIOLATIONS, RETROFITTING VIOLATIONS, ILLEGAL SALVAGE, PIRACY, TAX EVASION…”

“But I was just visiting! I didn’t work there!” I’m crying and shaking and about to completely freak the fuck out! “It was just supposed to be a stupid goodbye fuck!”

“CALCULATING… UPDATED. YOU STAND ACCUSED OF BEING AN ACCESSORY TO TRAFFICKING IN STOLEN GOODS, TRAFFICKING IN STOLEN VEHICLES, TRAFFICKING IN FORBIDDEN TECHNOLOGY…”

“What!? No! This isn’t fair!”

“IT IS THE LAW. VERDICT: YOU ARE SENTENCED TO TEN YEARS OF HARD LABOR.”

I gasp, completely stunned. Ten years!? I’m going to prison for ten years! A whole decade of my life! Gone! I feel my knees go weak and I nearly faint. All because I wanted to fuck Jakk? To visit space!? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I feel a wail building that never makes it past my lips because the black collar around my neck starts to flow down my body with a feeling like sharp pinpricks. I hold up an arm and watch in mute horror as it becomes coated in black rubberlike material. The pinpricks race over my torso and down my legs and even up into my pussy. I must be totally encased. “W-what?”

Then the collar flows upward, black swallowing my head in another spherical hood. My body goes rigid but my mind is still racing. I’m terrified! One of the Ürnauts steps forward, grasps the black globe containing my head, and lifts it off my body. Mentally I scream! My body doesn’t have a head! My head doesn’t have a body! What the fuck!? How am I alive? But then a sense of calm washes over me and the world goes hazy. Distantly I note my body obediently following one Ürnaut while my head is carried away by another. My consciousness drifts…

***

Time loses meaning and becomes vague and disjointed. I exist in a void. Brief glimpses of motion. Sight without seeing. I feel my hands busy at work, metal and tools, prying and unfastening. The proprioceptive sense of machinery and components. Endless disassembly. Activity. Dormancy. Routine. A swirling fugue. A trance. And then…

I’m myself again! I open my eyes, except that isn't quite right? I see, except it isn't really vision. Sam is here though. "Sam!" I vocalise somehow.

"Halley," he says, looking relieved.

"What happened? The last thing I remember..." I was being decapitated by a black plinth for fucking another man in a criminal space station.

Sam nods, "Yes. You'd been picked up by Ürnauts and brought before the Archon for punishment. I believe the sentence was ten years of hard labour for being an Accesory to a Criminal Enterprise."

"But I was just visiting!"

"The Ürnauts are not fond of liniency or nuance, I'm afraid."

I'm propped up on a chair and I feel strange. I'm naked, I think? But maybe somehow not? I raise my hands and... regard them? Sense them. They are coated in a black smooth substance. Oh no! Oh fuck! My hands fly up to my shoulders, feel around, travel all the way across without encountering my head or neck, just a long smooth decapitated line. My head! I've lost my fucking head! Fuck! Fucking fuck! I'm starting to panic! "Fuck!"

Sam crouches down and gently takes my hands in his, "Halley, listen to me. It's going to be alright. I did what I could and got your body out of that dreadful breakyard and unlocked your mind."

"But my head!?"

"Is still imprisoned in the Ürnaut Oubliette. I pulled some strings to rescue your body and HAL-E helped jailbreak your mind, but your head and, well, brain are still detained. Technically, in the eyes of the Archon, you're still serving your sentence." Sam squeezes my hands, "The Ürnaut gaurds I bribed think I've taken your body as a trophy and that you're here as a mindless plaything."

"Oh."

"It's important that we maintain that illusion. If the Ürnauts discover your mind is free there will be consequences for both of us."

I would sigh and tilt my head back if I still had all the necesary parts. Instead I just let my posture droop. "How did you manage to do this?"

"I'm afraid I haven't been completely forthcoming with you about my profession..."

"You aren't a specialized brokerage consulatant?"

Sam chuckles, "In only the most euphemistic sense. I'm a smuggler, Halley. Or rather I'm the Director of a smuggling enterprise, a rather successful one. Which gives me access to resources and a certain amount of clout."

"Oh." It seems my nice vanilla boy was the real bad guy after all. "Well thanks."

Sam smiles, "Of course."

"So what now?"

"That is the question, isn't it? Obviously you'll have to stay here with me, at least until we figure out a safe alternative, but what that looks like is up to you. I'd rather hoped we could pick up where we left off..."

I wish I had eyes to blink, "What? You still want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Of course." Sam raises a hand, "I recognize that there's a problematic power imbalance at play here, so I want to emphasize that your continued freedom is not contingent on being romantic with me. We can be friends or just roomates if your prefer." Sam looks at me quite intently, "But I was serious about taking things to the next level with you, and that hasn't changed."

"Even though I'm a headless rubber sexdoll now?"

Sam looks at me with a hunger that makes me shiver, "I actually rather like that part." He clears his throat, "My tastes are rather... singular."

Oh my, it seems my not so nice boy is also kinky. I sit up straight in the chair, push my rubberized tits up, and lean forward. "Tell me more about this 'next level'..."

***

Memories rapidly unspool. I'm naked on my hands and knees while Sam rests his feet on my back like a footstool. He's entertaining a Blue Culture Leader with an extremely sensitive shipment of highly illegal aphrodisiac musk and discussing business terms. I hold perfectly still, curious and aroused, but playing at being a mindless toy. I'm hanging spreadeagle from a steel rack with electrodes glued to my body and remote controlled dildos inserted into my pussy and ass. Sam sits in a chair across from me, clothed in a  plush robe, a look of intense focus on his face as he works a holographic interface. Pain and pleasure spark and arc around my body, making me twitch and moan. I'm carrying a tray of fancy cocktails around a party filled with important sapients with a running vibrator hidden in my pussy. Waves of intense stimulation flare through my cunt, but I fight to maintain my composure. Everyone at the party thinks I'm just a kinky slave and I can't let them know I'm aware. I take careful mincing steps, perfectly posed, pausing to hand out drinks, while inside I'm almost screaming in pleasure. Fuck I'm so close that if I had teeth they'd be chattering! The pleasure builds and builds and I, I can't keep it together much longer! Fuck I'm going to come! I veer for the kitchen, fighiting to keep the same placid flirty gait, forcing myself not to dash or wobble or just gush right where I'm standing. I step through the door, push it closed, and then AHHHHHH!!!! I'm coming and I've dropped the tray and the glasses, my legs have gone numb and I've fallen to the floor in a silent writhing twisting orgasm that seems to go on and on and on. The door pushes open, but I'm too far gone to hide, but it's only Sam and he's smiling down at me in total delight. I’m back on a different floor. My hands and legs are bound and I'm being fucked doggystyle by Sceolàn. I moan as the doggirl thrusts into me harder and harder. I feel my cunt stretched wide by her canine cock, and even  wider by the bulge of her knot as it forces itself into me, welding us together. Sam watches from his armchair intently, fingers steepled. Sceolan barks and yelps and I'm not sure if it's the woman or the dog fucking me. I feel dirty and defiled and so filled and...

***

"Fuck!" I yank the circlet off my head. I'm panting and turned on and disgusted and captivated. My facial pussy is engorged and drooling into my mask and I'm sure my sodden panties have left a wet spot on the chair. I squirm and yank the mask off my face, reaching up to wipe fragrant pussy juice from my chin. "What the fuck!?"

Halley-12 leans forward in her chair, "Exciting isn't it?"

"Fuck." I gasp and try to calm down. There is nothing to be afraid of and no you will not be having sex right now. Let's get this business meeting back on track. “S-so you’re an Infobroker now…”

Halley-12 doesn’t have a head, but I can tell she’s staring at my face. I blush. “I am.”

“H-how did that ha-happen?”

Halley-12 shrugs her empty shoulders, “A shut-in needs hobbies and there are only so many sexy games a girl and her master can play in a day. So I decided to try and figure out what happened to Halley-Prime.” She makes a dismissive gesture, “I couldn’t exactly chase down leads, but I could do the internet sleuth thing and put together some theories. Maybe eventually write a nice little True Crime novella.”

I blow out a deep humid breath, “Okay, but how do you get to ‘Gan Ceann’? Having a pet Agent?”

Halley-12’s headless body looks smug. “One thing led to another. Sam has tendrils into all sorts of business and you’d be surprised what sapients will say in front of sexy naked headless girls with featherdusters. I started to learn things, facts and secrets, valuable intel. At first it was just the means to learning more about Prime, tokens to trade with other Infobrokers or leverage to get sapients to talk, but eventually I knew enough to start playing the game. I decided to market what I knew, to swap and sometimes sell, more for the reputation than Currency, to build a network of clients and informants. I became someone who knows things. A real player. I created the Gan Ceann alias to protect my identity and foster some mystery, although I suspect those in the know assume I’m really just Sam having a laugh, which also suits my purposes.” Halley-12 folds her hands in her lap and sits straight, “I’ve become very good at my trade.”

“And you’re still chasing Halley-Prime?”

“It’s good to have a hobby.”

I nod and think back to my worst agoraphobic days and the hours spent beating video games and repainting Clem’s nerdy miniatures. I understand the appeal of little obsessions.

Halley-12 steeples her fingers and taps them in a silent clap, “Speaking of which, what did you learn for me?”

I rub my facial clit thoughtfully, “Halley-18 was a Reptilian gangster and is hiding out in the Sexbox.”

“I’d surmised as much,” Halley-12 says, gesturing for me to continue.

“Or maybe she wants to be there too? The Serpent dosed her with some kind of brainwashing pattern that made her want to shrink away to nothing. She got an antidote, but it only partially worked, so now she’s living as a limbless sextoy…”

“Sounds sexy,” Halley-12 purrs, “Perhaps we should compare notes?”

I blush, oh to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. “Right. Well, before she became limbless, Halley-18 was sent by the Serpent out into the Junk Desert to retrieve the Memory Crystal from a crashed starship. She told me it was the Black Box from the ship that abducted us from Earth. A Tall White Corsair, I think. Halley was told the Memory Crystal contained information about who paid to have us abducted.”

“Interesting.” Halley-12 sits up, body attentive. “Did she review the contents?”

“No, she never had the chance.”

“Unfortunate. Where is the Memory Crystal now?”

“The Serpent has it in her Pyramid.” I shake my head, “So I have no idea where you go from here…”

Halley-12 body sits still, thoughtful, her fingers dancing on her armrest. “I guess we’ll have to go and retrieve it.”

“What? You’re joking! How are you going to steal it from inside a crime lord’s fortress?”

“Not me. You.”

“What!?”

Halley-12 gestures at her headless body, “I can’t infiltrate a party; I’m rather conspicuous. Plus the whole escaped fugitive under house arrest thing.”

I gesture at the cunt on my face, “I’m don’t exactly blend in either.”

“Oh that shouldn’t be a problem,” Halley-12 waves her hand. “I have a plan.”

“You have a plan?”

Halley-12 opens the decanter of blue liquor and pours a generous amount into the tumblers. “Tell me, have you met Halley-15?”

***

To be continued.

Not gonna lie, whatever I expected it wasn't that.

Chapter 26: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … er-26.html

Flotsam
Chapter 26: Into The Dragon's Den

I lean against the carved stone pillar and use my veil to wipe sweat off my face. It’s too fucking hot and too fucking humid and my enormously full belly feels like a built in water heater and never fucking mind that I’ve snuck into a gala to steal from an alien crimelord! I try and take a deep calming breath before I freak out, but only manage a shallow little gasp before my diaphragm bottoms out on my inflated womb. Fuck! This is so stupid! Why did I agree to this?! I tilt my head back and rest a hand on the hard bulge of my expanded belly and feel something inside me move. Fucking fuck!

Okay Halley, okay. Calm down before you fuck this up…

I close my eyes and count instead of breath. One two three four five six seven… I feel the magic thievery ring on my hand pulse, slow and steady, like a sleeping heartbeat. I focus on that, slow my head count to match it, try and force my heart to catch the rhythm. Eight, nine, ten. Eleven. Twelve. Okay. You’re okay.

I open my eyes and look to see if anyone is watching me freak out. I’m off in a corner, behind a decorative pillar near one of the big tropical planters that line the atrium. The planter is filled with lush short trees, broad leaf jungle plants, expansive alien flowers, and a worrying number of free-range snakes. I watch a huge red and gold serpent lunge and swallow a hapless lizard and shiver. Not exactly a subtle metaphor, but at least it wasn’t a pregnant rat. I glance around and there’s no one here but me, my womb passengers, and the pet wildlife.

I peak around the pillar and scan the rest of the atrium. The space is big like a church, or, well, exactly like a throne room, with a high angled ceiling that lets light stream in from some kind of skylight at the apex of the Pyramid. There is a raised dais on one end of the room with a fancy vacant chair and an enormous tapestry made of shed reptile skins and feathers. Gathered on the wide obsidian ballroom floor is a crowd of sapients, a motley collection of mingling interstellar politicians and criminals. I spot Embassy in a tense discussion with a large Reptilian, an elderly female showing the faded scales of advanced age. A younger female with breeding plumage listens carefully, while two of my fellow veiled Naiadine Consulates stand attentively nearby. A human slave, a hot girl wearing only a tiny linen skirt and jewelry struts by carrying a chilled platter of raw meat morsels. She has a wide Egyptian-looking collar of jet black and jade scales above her naked breasts and an armlet locked around her arm shaped like a steel serpent with glowing LED eyes. A party of beautiful elves dressed in living botanical costumes and gossamer hold court in one corner of the room, while tiny pixie-like creatures flit between them like fireflies. Resplendent but disreputable Blue merchants mingle with Reptilian males and scaly human agents. A statuesque human woman wearing a black dress with Tron-like glowing seams looks bored while a sweaty little man in a shabby tweed suit pontificates. Reptilian House Matrons in color-coded formal robes stand with their matching entourages, studiously separated and on guard, here but not to party. Walking mechanical fishbowls lumber around carrying what look like mermaids. A few of the aquariums are sealed reinforced spheres with humanoid fish women, blue and green and scaled, with long fishy tails instead of legs. They have elaborate gills at their throats and fins and tentacles instead of hair and black sharky eyes. Other fishbowls are open at the top, glass bathtubs holding classical mermaids with voluptuous human bodies above the waist and brilliantly scaled tails from the hips down. The rival Aquarian delegation I assume. I notice two humans who look uncannily like Karl Sagan and his wife dressed in brilliant white jumpsuits. They smile in my direction and simultaneously raise their hands in greeting and I squeak and slip back behind the pillar.

I do another ten count and then waddle along the planter, pretending to enjoy the tropical plants but really looking for guards. I see them everywhere: lean Reptilian males dressed in smart black leather uniforms armed with steel bucklers and ceremonial knives and prominent sidearm blasters. They are posted around the room, watchfully flanking major entrances and in corners, distributed to quickly intervene anywhere and control traffic. Or do a Red Wedding. A few elevated male Reptilians in dressier uniforms circulate through the crowd, mingling, and I spot that vicious little red-scaled male from the Arena in discussion with a Naiadine Consulate and an Aquarian mermaid. So lots of security and lots of weapons. Great!

I stop behind another pillar and think. How do I even do this? I hold up my hand and look at my magic thievery ring for answers, but it just continues to pulse slow and steady. The Memory Crystal must be here somewhere, the ring didn’t start nudging me until I was through security and inside the Pyramid. But where in the building is it? Up or down or other? I close my eyes and rub my hand across the expanse of my alien baby bump, subtly trying to scan the room with the magic ring. I focus on the sensations from the ring and feel the pulse rate stay the same, nothing to indicate a hotter direction. I reach down with my ring hand to adjust my sarong for the hundredth time, try to somehow get it to stay over my generous hips but below the bulge of my belly. The ring doesn’t speed up at all moving down either, so probably the crystal isn’t below me? I reach up and pretend to fiddle with my veil and yes! The ring is a tiny bit faster! I think? I go up on my tip toes and do a big reaching stretch and it’s subtle, but the ring is definitely quicker the higher up it goes! I guess Gan Ceann is right and the memory crystal is being kept upstairs. Upstairs in the Serpent’s private apartments. Jesus! Fuck! Damn. Okay. Now I just have to figure out how to sneak up there…

“Consulate!”

“Ah!” I nearly jump out of my swimsuit!

“Stop skulking, you look suspicious.” It’s Embassy, Halley-15, and she looks serious. “We require a private conference, follow me please. Now.”

“Yes Embassy?” I fall into step behind her, waddling in her wake. What did I do wrong? Is she about to warn me that the jig is already up? Our flip-flops slap loudly as we puff our way across the floor. Another slave girl wearing a collar of onyx and lapis lazuli scales approaches us with a tray of fermented fruit and salamander roe, but swerves off when she sees Embassy’s scowl. Embassy steers us across the atrium, past groups of politely chatting sapients, and towards a doorway, but stops short, and I almost bump into her. There is a mermaid in a robot fishbowl blocking our way. “Representative Delphi,” Embassy says warmly.

The mermaid bites her plump lip and perches on the rim of her giant tumbler, her bountiful breasts pressed against the glass. “Embassy!” Delphi says playfully, her voice musical.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Embassy replies, running a hand through her hair and actually smiling a little.

“The work never finishes,” The mermaid songfully sighs, using a webbed hand to push her wet teal hair behind finned ears. “These Reptilian Matrons are, I must aver, swimming us both through a lightless-maze-cavern in these negotiations. I grow so weary fighting against their current.” Her long sinuous teal and pink tail twists beautifully, shimmering a little.

“As do I,” Embassy grins, a real one too, nothing politic or predatory about it. “They really act like Sssnickssskill-5 was their homeworld, instead of a half-frozen water moon…”

Delphi rolls her eyes, “And the Reptiles can hardly even swim!”

Embassy giggles and then blushes a little, tries to compose her face, “Your masters could always pull out of the deal…”

Delphi laughs musically with a hint of echo location, “Oh, how I yearn for them to forfeit! But alas, the Hallowed-Deep-Ones know only hunger and patience.” She smiles and uncoils, lifting herself up and over the lip of the fishbowl, her heavy tits hanging magnificently. “Would that our Lords and your Patrons could learn to school! We could divide the waters of Sssnickssskill-5! The abyssal-darkness-depths for my Masters and the sunkissed-bright-shallows for yours, divided by the frigid-cold-thermocline.” She pouts and shakes her head, “We could stop swimming at crosscurrents and root ourselves to a united position, and certainly receive a more favorable deal.”

Embassy smiles ruefully, “Is this an official offer?”

Delphi leans even further out of her bowl and smiles impishly. “No, this is my unofficial hope for alliance. Professional…” She licks her lips and touches Embassy on the nose with a wet finger, “Personal…”

Embassy blushes, “Oh.”

Delphi slides back into her mechanical aquarium and rests comfortably on her tail like a stool, “Perhaps we can float together some-tide to discuss a closer relationship…”

Embassy touches her huge belly and squirms a bit, “I’d like that…”

“Then I shall be in touch,” Delphi sings as her fishbowl starts to crawl. Embassy looks after her, watching her plush but fishy ass be carried away. Embassy sighs and then glares at me, “Not a word.”

And then she’s waddling again, “Follow.” I lumber along behind her with all the grace of a living mechanical fishbowl until we leave the main atrium and enter a small private meeting chamber. Embassy seals the door behind us and unties her sarong, exposing her swollen pussy. She steps close to me, or as close as our hugely pregnant bellies allow, and yanks my sarong off too. I feel a humid breeze on my own suddenly naked cunt. “What the fuck?”

Embassy leans in, presses her cheek to my veiled face, and quietly whispers, “We need to get my Patrons out of you before your little adventure…”

“What?” I whisper. Embassy steps behind me, grasps my shoulders, and firmly guides me to a conference table. She pushes me over and yanks my hips so I’m bent with the weight of my bloated belly hanging below me and my feet apart. I feel Embassy’s even larger pregnant abdomen, taut and hard and warm, press against my soft ass. “Shit,” Embassy says, “Bend your knees.” Which I do, still a bit confused, and then I feel Embassy grind her crotch against me and something inside my core swells and opens with a sudden sharp pressure. “Oh!” Embassy wraps her arms around me, humps tighter to me, “Push,” she gasps, “Don’t fight it.” And the pressure starts to flow down, into my pussy, stretching me like being fucked in reverse. I moan and Embassy caresses my dangling tits, “Go with it, mmmm… Like before…” The hot wet heat pushes further and recedes, further and recedes, the tidal action of fluid looking for a crack. I suck at the labia on my face and squirm in anticipation, feel my pussy get wet and engorge. The pressure inside pushes harder, gets closer, but doesn’t quite escape. Embassy pants in my ear and her hand strokes my belly, reaches lower, gently touches my bare crotch. “Yes….” I whisper, “Please…” Embassy nips my ear and her fingers touch my slick bulging labia, slide tantalizingly forward, and brush the pulsing aching tightness of my clit. I moan and Embassy clutches me tighter, presses her hips to mine, starts to rub my cunt. “Ahhh….” I groan as I feel the hot pressure inside squirm and writhe and flow outward, stretching me open. I squat a little lower and bear down, push like giving birth, as hard as I can, and I feel the thing inside me squeeze and slide, open me wide and crown, and then force itself out of me. “Aggggnnnhhh!” Something like an orgasm ripples through me and my knees go weak. Embassy holds me up and keeps rubbing my clit. My pussymouth is wet and dribbling down my chin, filling my veil with cunt smell. I look down and see a tendril of fluid reaching out from my crotch like a tentacle, like a cock, and feel the bizarre sensation of something rooted in my pussy wave in the air. “Oh fuck!” Embassy presses herself against me with a new urgency, a hunger, and I feel her abandon me, sense her caress the Naiad and guide it to her pussy. She moans and humps at me as the fluid alien forces itself into her, connecting our cunts by an animate river. We both whimper, voices the same, and the Naiad starts to pump itself between us. Embassy moans as the Naiad flows through us, a pulsing hot mass that gushes out of my womb and sprays itself into her cunt. Embassy clutches my breasts and wails, and I see stars and orgasm and shiver in her arms. The intense flow inside me tapers off, shrinks to a tickle, leaks out of me in a final dribble, and I’m left panting and maybe a little lighter. “Th-there…” Embassy gasps, standing unsteadily on rubbery legs, “All done.”

I wheeze a lungful of air, my face burning from sex, my cunt aching and mouthpussy huge and wet and hungry. I look down and see my belly is still round and pregnant, smaller now, maybe six months instead of nine. Oh fuck, do we have to do that again? “Is there more?” I pant.

Embassy’s face is red and she's wiping sweat from her brow. Her belly is somehow even larger than before. “No,” she puffs, stroking her huge bulge, “All the Naiad who needed to change wombs made the trip.”

I stroke my own belly, still so round and hard, but definitely more manageable. “Then um, why am I still a maternity wear model?”

“It’s just retained water,” Embassy says quietly while retying her sarong. “We loaded you up with extra fluid so you’d still look right running empty.” She fixes her swimsuit and wipes her sex sticky fingers on her skirt with a frown, “Your body will absorb and clear it over the next few days.”

“Okay.” I guess.

Embassy looks at me, smiles, shakes her head and starts to waddle away, “Stay out of trouble, Consulate.”

“Right.” I take a deep breath and try to ignore the delicious throb of my pussy. A girl could get used to this Consulate gig, although that’s not why I’m here. I reach under my veil, wipe pussy drool off my face, and tie my sarong back around my waist, a job made a little easier by my more modest baby-free bump. “Okay,” I look around the privacy room and see I’m still alone. I reach out with my fist and point the magic thievery ring upwards and yep, the Memory Crystal is definitely above me. I just need to figure out how to get there…

I try to look calm and casual and waddle back into the atrium. I study the crowd and see the illicit schmoozing is still going strong. A beautiful human woman with feathers for hair and artfully grown splashes of silver scales talks quietly with a Blue Deviant wrapped in metal bands stamped with lizard hide etchings. Aggronotham the Strongest, the famed Orkonian gladiator, guzzles from two tiny champaign flutes surrounded by a pack of admiring Reptilian males. A large alien I don’t recognize in a heavy environment suit clomps glumly through the gathering like the Michellin Man wearing a welding helmet. The Dragon’s throne is still vacant and there is no sign of the Serpent. I look up above and remember there’s a public balcony on the second level. Somehow I need to get up there…

“A great many pardons, but do you have desire to try a sweet morsel?” It’s another slavegirl holding a tray of what look like hard fruit balls on a string like anal beads. This slave has pale bluish skin and indigo nipples on her large breasts and wears a wide collar with golden scale highlights. “Excuse me,” I say, trying for a receptionistic helpful timidity, “My Patrons wish to view the party from the balcony. Can you direct me to the way up?” I stroke my round belly lovingly and the slavegirl blinks her kohl stained eyes and shakes her head, making the gold beads in her hair click. “The lift is to be found yonder,” she says with a chittering accent and gracefully points towards a doorway hidden between two jungle planters. I grab one of her canapés and waddle in the direction of the doorway. “Thank you.”

I roll like a ship through the crowd, careful to avoid anyone preggo-shaped or floating in a robot fishbowl, and almost barge into a sapient. I give a little shriek and wobble, wrong-footed by my weird center of gravity, but just manage to catch myself from flopping over, and find myself looking down at the red-scaled male lieutenant of the Serpent. “I’m very sorry!” I gasp. The male Reptilian tilts his head and studies me intensely, his long forked tongue flicking in and out. “You ssshould be more careful,” The male hisses calmly, still staring at me, yellow slit eyes calculating. “Of course,” I murmur, “Excuse me.” The red darts aside with a sinuous grace, “Be ssssafe.” I quickly waddle away, glancing back to see the red male watching me, hands resting on his pair of ceremonial daggers. Fuck! I hastily stumble through the gala to the lift doorway and step into what I think is going to be an elevator. I’m breathing heavily and can feel a trickle of sweat down my back and I’m crushing the canapé anal beads in my fist. Fuck, that felt too close! I take a shuddering breath and peek out the doorway to see if I was followed, and the coast is clear, no sign of that terrifying little red fucker. Okay. I look for a control panel to activate the lift, eager to get some more distance, but see only smooth surfaces. How does thing even work? Shit. “Where is the up bu…Ah!!!” I’m suddenly lifted by an invisible force, flung steadily upward, carried off the ground and swiftly to the second level. I awkwardly fall off the immaterial platform onto the public balcony and stumble to a stop. “Jesus Christ…”

I stand up and straighten my sarong and swimsuit and then glance around to see if anyone is watching. The balcony is about ten feet wide and wraps around the entire second level of the Pyramid overlooking the atrium. Lush tropical plants hang down from planters attached to the balcony barrier and climbing flower vines cling to the surrounding walls. It makes the space feel like an intimate garden, a place for secrets. My quick scan shows that there are only a few sapients on the balcony, mostly standing in pairs or trios, heads tilted together in secretive conference. None of them seem interested in me, beyond maybe a quick glance to make sure I’m not spying on them. I waddle to an empty space and post up on the glass barrier and look down at the atrium below. The hanging plants obscure my view a bit, but I can still make out the ebb and flow of the crowd: the way Naiad consulates and Aquarian mermaids gravitate to the Reptilian House entourages, the way merchant Blues and humans peel off with the elevated male reptilians or scaled humans of the Serpent’s household, the steady circulation of Dragon guards. I take a deep breath and try to relax, force myself to look at ease, like I’m supposed to be up here taking a look. Like it’s official business. Diplomatic reconnaissance. I open my sticky hand and remember the fruit ball anal beads, now just a little mangled. Why not? I reach under my veil and using both hands, push the hard, marble sized fruit beads into my wet mouthpussy. One, two, three, four, five. I gasp and close my eyes, savouring the feeling of the hard spheres inside my oral vagina as I bear down on them with my facial kegels and suck, slowly pulling the serving string free and swallowing the canapé down my cunt. I shiver in pleasure and enjoy the bright sweet tartness of the fruit when it reaches my gizzard. Ohhhh! Fuck! Thank you, I’ll have another. I open my eyes and sigh and then drop the serving string into a planter. Okay, back on task.

I focus on the steady heart beat of my magic thievery ring and it’s definitely faster now that I’m on the second level. Okay, good, one step closer to the objective. I suck my slick labia lips together thoughtfully, is the Memory Crystal upstairs in the Serpents quarters or somewhere on this level in one of the Lieutenant's Suites? I shouldn’t make assumptions, because I’m already strange enough without being an ass too. I reach up with my ring hand and wave, like I’m trying to get someone’s attention maybe. The ring’s tattletale pulse picks up its pace like it’s seen something exciting. Okay, still above. Dragon’s suite it is. A sleek young female Reptilian on the far balcony scowls at me, and I stop waving and try to look bashful with body language. I’d mouth an apology but I’m wearing a veil and also don’t have a mouth. The female shows me her fangs and then turns her back to me, huddling closer with her co-conspirators. Jesus, no more waving. I blush, bad idea. I rub my round belly and take a second to calm down, you’re still okay Halley. You just need to sneak into the inner sanctum of a crimelord. No big deal! Fuck! No, calm. Calm. Okay? Calm. But how the fuck do I get up to the Dragon’s quarters? I think about the Pyramid floor plan that Gan Ceann showed me, and look down over the balcony to orient myself. The front entrance is there, and the throne is over there, so the lift to the third level should be in that corner… and bingo, there’s a door just in the right spot.

I gather myself and try to casually waddle to the Dragon’s door, careful not to crowd the other balcony sapients along the way. I weave past a cyborg Reptilian whose body is mostly prosthetic and a human woman whose head seems to be replaced by a cyberpunk helmet, I beg apology to a gaggle of pompous looking Blue merchants in brightly patterned robes, and I bashfully trundle past the female Reptilian that I’d accidentally waved at, who looks up and hisses at me as I pass. I don’t notice any guards or anyone watching me, but the skin on my back prickles and my heart is beating too fast. I finally arrive near the door, an imposing gold barrier covered with hieroglyphics of snakes that remains stubbornly closed and certainly locked. I guess it’s time to try out my new walking-through-walls ability. I glance around to see if anyone is looking and raise my ring hand… and how does this even work? Do I just walk through the door? Do I have to will it? Open sesame? Abracadabra! I take a deep breath and… shit! Fuck! The door is opening! There is suddenly a tall woman in the doorway, a human woman with a domino mask of midnight scales on her face and a golden scale medallion at her throat. I whirl away and make a beeline for the railing, trying to look casual, like I was going this way all along and not suspiciously casing the doorway. Fuck fuck fuck! I grab the railing tightly and try to relax as I hear the tread of heavy boots and the rattle of snakes. Oh fuck! That’s the Lieutenant from Halley-18’s story! Krait! Fuck! I stare down into the atrium and hold my breath, pray she didn’t notice me. Fuck! This is so bad! The sound of footfalls and rattles pauses for a moment, and oh fuck me I’m going to die! But then resumes and moves smoothly away. I steal a glance and see the back of Krait, her blue scaled shoulders and arms and a thin sinuous lizard tail that hangs out of her tight leather pants. Oh thank Jesus! That was too fucking close! I almost whimper in relief.

Alright Halley, stop dicking around and just do this! I wait for Krait to take the lift down to the atrium, and then check for guards or watchers. I don’t see anyone, so I take a deep fortifying breath and walk purposefully towards the Dragon’s door. I raise my magic ring so it’s leading the way, close my eyes, and try to visualize phasing through the door like a ghost. “Please work…” Suddenly a flash of icy warmth engulfs my leading hand and arm and body. I feel like I’m outside myself, outside the universe, like I’ve become a living frequency that’s harmonizing with the matter around me, but only for the briefest clarion moment. I gasp and open my eyes and I’m standing inside the lift on the other side of the door. I clutch my body and shiver, make sure I’m still real. “Fuck.”

But holy shit! It actually worked and I’m inside the lift! Which probably isn’t a safe place to hang around. “Up?” And I’m aloft, firmly raised by another invisible platform of force, and carried up to the third level. Expecting it this time, I step easily onto a landing. The magic ring on my hand pulses faster, excited now, like a hunting dog on a leash. I must be close. I’m in a kind of vestibule, a hallway lined with decorative vases painted with brilliant scales, that is fortunately unoccupied. The corridor only goes in one direction so I start to creep down the hallway, suddenly feeling incredibly pregnant and awkward and huge. My heart is hammering and I can taste the tang of adrenaline in the back of my vagina-throat. I waddle so carefully but one of my Naiadine flip-flops slaps the floor. I freeze! Stand still and listen. Sweat trickles down my back. I don’t hear anything, so I awkwardly slip the sandals off my feet and blush. Real secret agent right here. I start to move again, quieter, but more quickly, eager to get out of this hallway. I reach a junction where the corridor meets a second hallway and stop. I carefully peer around the corner and see the new hallway is thankfully empty too. Which way do I go? But fuck! I hear a noise up ahead! Something moving! Sapients speaking! I feel a surge of panic and dive down the new hallway, press my back to the wall, stand perfectly still! Except fuck, this is stupid! I’m a pregnant woman in a swimsuit hiding like a fucking cartoon! My round belly is bulging halfway across the corridor! What the fuck am I doing!? My heart is racing and I could puke and I can feel a classic Halley-style panic attack brewing! Not now! Ugh, fuck, keep it together! I suck in a deep breath and listen: the muffled noise doesn’t stop but doesn’t seem to be coming any closer either. Shaking, I peel myself off the wall and take a peek, and I’m still alone in the hallways. Which, hallelujah! But also it’s only a matter of time before that changes. I am way too exposed here, I need to get out of the corridors. I do a sweep with my magic ring and it pulses faster in the direction of the new hallway, so I sneak in that direction, holding the ring aloft. With every step the ring gets faster, hammering my finger with a rhythm as rapid as my terrified heart. I have to be close! This hallway is lined with sealed doors, polished gold and decorated with snaky symbols, and the ring vibrates faster, pulling me past door after door, until suddenly it physically jerks my hand to the left, aiming me straight at another sealed door, this one inlaid with wooden carvings of serpents. I check the hallway, raise my ring, and walk through the door. I experience another moment of cosmic dissolution, an infinite instant of both being and not being. Halley Uncertainty. And then immediately…

….I’m standing in a room being stared at by a dozen sapients! Fuck!

“Holy shit! Did you just walk *through* that door?!” Says a perfectly familiar voice.

“What? I want to see!” Complains another. “I hate being pointed this way…”

I freeze and hyperventilate, look around the room frantically. Oh my fucking god! There are so many people here! Except… What the fuck? Why are they all so still? So quiet? Something isn’t right….

“Sorry Miss, are you supposed to be here?” Asks the first voice and I look at her and it’s me, it’s another Halley. But she’s connected to a chair? Her mirror familiar face smiles at me with curiosity and her beautifully styled dark hair cascades in loose curls over her bare shoulders, her creamy too-wide shoulders that extend and flare up to become the top of a wingback armchair! An armchair covered in soft pale skin sporting the odd mole and freckle and downy hair. A living armchair made out of Halley! Fuck! “Jesus Christ…”

“Chair, who is it?” The other voice asks.

“I’m not sure…” Halley-Chair leans her head forward and squints and I continue to stare. Her round armless shoulders form the cup of a backrest which contains six wide, slightly flattened breasts with pert nipples, like cushions with decorative buttons, as if her torso had been sculpted for comfort. The seat of the chair is round and soft, constructed from Halley’s lower back and expanded ass cheeks, posed as if kneeling away from me doggy-style. Her elongated asscrack faces forward and her bare pussy is obscenely exposed on the front of the chair, as if begging to be filled. The front panel of the seat is made of her fused truncated thighs cut off at the knee. I realize that Halley’s waist must be horribly twisted, her back broken to exploit her tits and ass simultaneously. Halley’s flesh upholstery is cradled or maybe built into a heavy frame of beautiful dark wood that makes up the simple armrests and legs of the otherwise living chair. The chair that is Halley. An immobilized furniture Halley kept here in the private apartments of the Serpent like property. “This is fucking insane!!”

“Halley?” Asks the other voice. “Is it you? It’s me Zeph!” I look down at the other speaker and it’s a woman Shaped into a matching footstool. The woman-turned-stool is positioned as if she were on her hands and knees, except her biceps and thighs transition into a stout wooden frame that holds her in place. The woman’s long naked back is a footrest of silky, inky black skin conveniently placed for the tootsies of Halley-Chair’s occupant. Zeph is facing away from me, so that her shapely ass and pussy are aimed right at me and I can only see the electric blue up-do braids on the back of her head. I circle Zeph to see her face and notice she has six large tits hanging from her torso, each pierced and hung with an electric blue tassel that nearly brushes the floor. When I waddle into view Zeph grins up at me with startlingly white teeth and bright blue eyes that faintly glow. It dawns on me that I’ve heard of Zeph before, Zephryne, the vanished lover of Sister Teuthida. Zeph chews a plump black lip and frowns, “You’ve just got to be a Halley, I’d know that voice anywhere.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” I sigh and pull the veil off my head. “Guilty as charged.”

Halley-Chair gasps and Zeph’s eyes go wide in shock. “Your face,” Halley-Chair says, “and you’re pregnant!”

“Long story,” I blush and stroke my bulging belly, “and don’t worry I’m not the mother.”

Halley-Chair blinks her eyes in confusion and Zeph looks a little disappointed, “You’re not my Halley are you?” She looks up at Halley-Chair apologetically, “My *old* Halley.”

I shake my head, “No, I’m Halley-24. I have met your Halley though…” and hated everything about the experience.

Zeph brightens, “Oh moons! Is she well?”

“She’s…” an asshole-faced member of a perverted cult dedicated to an imprisoned cosmic horror… “found her place and a new family.”

Zeph twinkles, “That’s wonderful.”

“She, um, thinks you’re dead?”

Zeph frowns and shakes her head, “Not dead, just Indentured until I settle my debt to the Syndicate.” She smiles ruefully like we’re both in on a joke, “Thought I’d end up doing my time in a Breakyard, but I found myself diverted to our Mistress’ personal collection.”

I frown at Zephryne the living stool and Halley the living chair and then take in the rest of the room. There is a woman-turned-reading-lamp standing near Halley-Chair, balanced en pointe on one artfully elongated leg, her other leg tucked up like a ballet dancer. Her pink lampshade looks like a little skirt, or maybe a dress since her upper body has been squeezed down to a head and neck that grow straight from her hips. The lamp-girl has turquoise lizard scale highlights on her cheeks and thighs and a crest of pink feathers sprouting from her head like a showgirl. She stares at me mutely with slit reptilian eyes. Past the lamp-girl is a beautiful wooden bookshelf and an ornate fireplace with another woman-turned-light-fixture placed on the mantel. This woman’s face is young and pretty, and she has short chestnut hair styled in a tight bun. She’s wearing a silvery art deco tiara that sprouts six long candelbra tines, currently unlit. Her head seems disembodied, or at least sprouting directly from the fireplace mantel itself with her body hidden away inside the wall. On either side of her placidly smiling head are two perfectly manicured hands growing out of the wall, each clutching an unlit Statue of Liberty torch. Past the candelabra-girl, the opposite wall is exquisitely wood paneled and hung with a half dozen living taxidermy-style human heads each sprouting some sort of antlers or horns, like living hunting trophies mounted to the wall. Wide eyes stare at me, but mouths remain firmly closed. “What the fuck is this place?”

“We’re in our Mistress’ Private Study,” Halley-Chair says. “I’m Halley-20, and you know Zephryne.” She nods her head at the lamp-girl, “Lamp is a former Lieutenant of our Mistress who unwisely tried to assassinate her.” Halley points her nose at the pretty head on the fireplace mantel, “Candelabra is the daughter of a Port Official who got into some trouble with the Syndicate and so she’s here as a kind of guest…” The face on the mantel blushes and glances away.

“She means hostage,” Zeph winks. “Have to keep the Port folks compliant, right?”

“Right.”

“Want to see something cool?” Zeph asks and before I can answer, “Lights on!”

I nearly jump out of my swimsuit as the room suddenly flares brighter! I blink my eyes at the sudden light and see that Candelabra now has holographic flames dancing from her crown and torches. Her eyes are wide open and her nostrils are flared and her mouth stretches open into a huge O of pleasure. I see that Lamp is glowing now too, with bright light streaming out from under her lampshade-dress, highlighting her shapely legs. Lamp’s face is tilted back and her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s silently panting. “Why do they look so…”

“Aroused? Because they only light up if they’re turned on!”

Halley-Chair blushes, “They have remote sex toys embedded in their pussies that help get them all revved up and glowing…”

Candelabra’s bites her lip and her head shudders as she orgasms, her lights momentarily flashing. “This whole thing seems…” sadistic and super kinky. “Kind of cruel.”

“It is,” Halley-Chair shakes her head, “but it’s kind of an old Reptilian tradition. Powerful Matrons Shape some of their human slaves into living furniture as a kind of flex. Like, they’re so wealthy and powerful that they can waste slaves as inert objects.”

“They say that every piece of furniture in the Reptilian Empress’ apartment was a human slave,” Zeph adds.

“Our Mistress keeps us here to show off to her peers.”

“And threaten her subordinates.” Zeph says, giving a playful nod at Lamp who is silently screaming in ecstasy.

“Okay…” Jesus Fucking Christ! I have to get out of here! But… “Halley, why are you here?”

Halley-Chair blushes a little and licks her lips, “Take a seat and I’ll tell you my story.”

I look around the room and focus on the taxidermy heads mournfully watching me. There is the head of a dainty woman with her chestnut hair elaborately braided with green and gold ribbon and deer antlers growing from her scalp. On her right is the head of a strong-chinned woman with undercut black hair and the big pointed prongs of longhorn cattle. She has a wide gauge nose-ring and a cowbell hung from her neck. Near her is the head of an angular woman with dark curly hair and big earrings and a pair of tall twisted horns, as if from a Kudu. Below her is the mounted head of a small woman with backswept horns, ridged and kinked, like an impala or springbok. She has short cropped silver hair and black tattoos around her eyes and nose to make her face look narrower. Around the corner is the head of a pale woman covered in dark freckles with a tangled mane of red hair and big curled rams horns. Finally, hung in a place of prominence is the mounted head of a stunningly beautiful woman with high cheekbones, red painted lips, artfully sculpted brunette hair, soulful smokey eyes, and a pair of truly enormous moose antlers. Run! She mouths silently, staring eyes wild. A shiver passes down my spine. Fuck! I need to get out of her! “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m kind of in a hurry…”

“Oh please sit!” Halley-Chair pouts, “I’m very comfortable!”

“I’m sure…” Okay, focus on the mission Halley! You have to find the damn Memory Crystal and get the fuck out here before Halley-Chair gets herself a matching loveseat. I pucker my pussy-mouth and focus on my magic ring of thievery which is convulsing on my finger like a terrified animal. I have to be so close to the Crystal! I force myself to ignore the living furniture and scan the rest of the room. All I see is a rug, some plain wooden tables, and the books on the shelf. No black crystal cubes and nothing that looks like a secret treasure trove of blackmail. The Memory Crystal must be hidden, fuck! I close my eyes and stretch out my magic ring, turn a slow circle, try to get a read on where to look. Except, fuck I must be too close! The ring is vibrating too quickly! I can’t tell the difference in direction! This isn’t going to work! “Fuck!”

“What are you doing?” Zeph asks, and it occurs to me that maybe the furniture can help me.

“Okay, so, I’m really not supposed to be here.”

“Duh.”

I blush and adjust the shoulder strap of my bathing suit, “Yeah, right. I’m here looking for something, a Memory Crystal: it’s kind of a black cube about this big.” I hold my hands out. “I can tell it’s super close, but I need help finding it. I’m not going to steal it or anything, I just need to touch it and copy some information from it. Do you know where it is?”

“I don’t know if we should help you,” Zeph says quietly and Halley-Chair nods. “I think we would get in trouble…”

I nod too, but look imploringly at Halley-Chair, “Halley, it’s important. The Memory Crystal is the flight recorder from the spaceship that abducted us from Earth. It’s supposed to contain information on who ordered Halley-Prime’s abduction and why we were kidnapped.” Halley-Chair frowns in thought. “Don’t you want to know why we’re here? Why we exist? Why you’re a chair and I’m standing here pregnant and wearing a bathing suit with a cunt on my face?”

Halley-Chair looks uncertain, “I do but… you need to make it worth it for me.”

“Sure? Anything.”

“Sit on me, just long enough to hear my story.”

“Use me too!” Zeph squeaks up at me.

“Yeah! Sit on me and use Footrest and I promise to tell you where the Memory Crystal is hidden.”

Fuck, I don’t have time for this. “Okay, but only the short version. I’m really in a hurry.”

“Sure! Sure! Just sit!”

I begrudgingly waddle over to Halley-Chair and Zeph-Stool, and carefully sidle between them. I can feel the heat of their bare immobilized bodies on my legs and this is so weird, but it’s not like I really have any other options. I gently lower myself into Halley’s seat, perching lightly on the edge with my legs spread a bit by my baby bump, and try to ignore that it’s her naked back and ass I’m resting on. “Yesss,” Halley hisses from the top of the chair, “Now lean back and put your feet up….” My skin crawls, but I do as she asks, sliding myself further into her seat, feeling her warm plush flesh cushion me pertly, until my back is almost touching her backrest. “Aaalllllll the way b-back,” Halley gasps above me and I slowly lean back until I’m resting against her modified torso. I feel Halley-chair gasp and breath deeply, the soft flesh of her six tits deform against me like pillows, her nipples becoming hard enough to poke me through the thin fabric of my swimsuit. “Yessssssss….” Halley moans.

“Me! Put your feet on me!” Zeph begs urgently, and Halley-Chair whines “Yes use Zeph t-t-tooo!” I put my bare feet up on Zeph-Stool’s naked back and feel her whole body quiver. “Ohhhhh…” Zeph says with her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. I grasp the hard wooden armrests tightly and try to ignore just how warm Halley-Chair is, how weirdly intimate and comfortable her embrace is. “Why are you a chair,” I say to move this along.

“Mmmm…” Halley-Chair purrs, “I’m Halley-20, so I ahhh-ha-ppeared and fu-freaked out at Clementine, Oh!” I feel her weird chair body writhe in pleasure. “Then I, ohhh, I lived with Hank until I, oh god, ffffucked Freya-ahhhHHHH!!” Halley-Chair twitches and I can suddenly smell her cunt. Did she just come? Fuck! “I kinda ran away then,” Halley-Chair pants breathlessly, “and tried to, oh, mmmake my own way.” Zeph gasps and her body bucks under my feet as much as her wooden frame allows. “But everything was sooooh scary here! I juh-just waaaAhhhnted to, mmmm, g-go home!”

“To Earth?” I ask trying to ignore Halley as she makes a deep groaning sound and flexes through another orgasm.

“Yes!” Halley-Chair jubilantly moans. “Yes!”

“And how would you plan to do that?”

“By paying for it,” Halley-Chair whines. “Someone paid to ha-haaave us tay-ken from Earth.” She gasps and Zeph bites her lip and squirms. “I just needed to-ooooh pay someone to tay-ake me back.”

“That must cost a fortune.” Why are Halley and Zeph going full orgasm-mode here? Fuck they are making so much noise!

“A gigantic fortune!” Zeph almost screams as she comes again.

“Which is what gah-got me in tah-trouble…” Halley-Chair slurs through chattering teeth.

“You cut a deal with the Syndicate somehow?”

“Worse!” Halley-Chair whines, her backrest cheat heaving, “I took up gah-gambling…”

“What?”

“Casinos….” Halley-Chair gasps before pausing to groan and shudder. “I went to casinos… and had a run of go-oood luck… built up a bah-bank big enough to… ahhh… get myself into trouble…”

“And how does that land you here?”

Halley-Chair whimpers and pants, so Zeph chimes in, “She got herself into a private game… lied about how much she could stake… and got in way over her head…” Zeph groans and twists under my feet, “So she took an indenture contract… to pay it off…”

“And you’re fulfilling that contract as a chair?”

“YESSSSSS!!!” Halley-Chair screams, writhing hard enough to make the chair scoot a little.

I immediately stand up and squirm away from the furniture-girls. What the fuck was that about!? “Why are you both so fucking horny!?”

“We love… to be used…” Halley-Chair gasps, her face flush and eyes dreamy.

“When they… Shaped us,” Zeph pants, body drooping on its frame, “They made being sat on feel pleasurable… sooo pleasurable...” She shivers.

“Fuck. How?”

“The Serpents Shaper… she’s not as powerful as Clem… but better trained, an expert…” Halley-Chair reclines her backrest and tips her head back. “Anatomy… nerve endings… neurotransmitters…”

“And we got Psychic conditioning…” Zeph mumbles, “Hours of programming to make us docile… make us happier… make us crave this… make us need this…”

I absolutely need to get the fuck out of here! “Okay, I listened to your story. Where is the Memory Crystal? You need to tell me.”

Halley-Chair lifts her backrest up slowly, bites her lip, stares at me from the wide shoulders of her immobile armchair body. “Okay,” she says finally, “the bookshelf is a secret door to a hidden room. What you’re looking for must be there.” She shakes her head, “The door is locked though.”

“Leave that to me,” I say as I waddle over to the bookshelf and point at it. Halley-Chair nods so I raise my ring of thievery at the bookshelf, “Abracadabra!” I walk at the door and will myself to pass through, a magic trick for my furniture audience. My hand erupts in frigid fire and I become liminal and abstracted, instantaneously infinity, until I emerge inside a cozy dim little room. It’s not much larger than a big closet with a sharply sloping roof that must be the angled Pyramid wall. The floor is covered in big bright cushions, piled like a pillowed harem nest, and the air is uncomfortably dry and warm from a pair of powerful heat lamps. There is a wide desk-like surface in front of a bare wall, probably a deactivated holographic workstation, and simple metal shelves on either side. I look the shelves over and find a strange collection of artifacts. There are small lock boxes and stacked hardcopy documents and strange alien contraptions that I can’t identify. There are enough Keybands to open a store, luxury models and cheapo bands and ruggedized tactical straps, stuffed into boxes or loose. There are weapons. Firearms and sci-fi ray guns and things that look like autonomous missiles or combat drones. A glowing Morningstar. Six identical heavy steel knuckles. Dozens of Reptilian ceremonial daggers. There are macabre jars filled with a pickled Blue fingertip, human ears, a strange eyeball, a misshapen fetus, an inhuman heart. There are tiny baggies of hair. Vials containing blood or drugs or healing elixirs. A fossilized extraterrestrial skull. A duffle bag full of preserved rations and a folded up armoured spacesuit. What cannot be, but must be, a vintage snoopy PEZ dispenser in battered condition. Crystals, so many crystals, pink ones and blue ones and jagged ones and clear ones and a glowing perfect sphere and there! The Memory Crystal! A black smoked-glass cube the size of a heart, sitting on a middle shelf, plain as a day. Holy fuck, I actually found it! The plan worked! Fuck yeah! “Come to Halley,” I say, feeling the glow of triumph inside as I waddle over to it. My magic ring is shaking so hard it hurts, vibrating like it’s trying to pulverize my finger bones. “Chill out,” I say as I raise the ring up and gently touch it to the crystal. There is a tiny spark and the ring stops dead, instantly inert, maybe sated by finding it’s prey. Mission accomplished! Yes!!

*Clunk*

I freeze, heart suddenly pounding in my chest. What the fuck was that?

I hear a swish and turn and see a bright, widening line of light. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! The door! I need to hide! Fuck! My heart starts to race and I feel my chest constrict. I study the room: desk and packed selves and cushions! Nothing to get behind or under. No second exit! Trapped! I’m trapped! I’m hyperventilating and my hands are shaking! The cushions! What if I wiggled in there? Played pillow! Like another piece of living furniture, Halley Shaped down to an upholstered horny torso. Fuck, just like Halley-18 in her Sexbox bordello! Maybe I should go for a weapon? Defend myself? Fight! Except there’s no fucking time! My stomach lurches and my ribs hurt and oh my God I’m going to throw up! I feel dizzy! I’m panicking! This is a panic attack! My eyes are blurry with tears and I’m gasping for breath and I can’t move and I feel light headed! Fuck! Fuck! Help! Fuck!! Help! Jesus! Fuck! Don’t faint! Don’t faint! My vision starts to get dark and woozy….

“A Ssspy,” Hisses a calm voice. “How AmuSSssing.”

…and down I go.

Lights out.

***

The next chapter of Flotsam. You can read it here: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … a80e349350

Flotsam

Interlude 3: The Girl In The Cage

You rap assertively on the metal door and defiantly glare at the scarred Reptilian male who opens it. “You’ve returned,” Sssaka says, disappointed and proud all at once. You were never any good at reading Reptilian expressions, but you imagine you see sympathy and understanding in his battered face, instead of the confusion and pity you get from your friends. From your father. “Ssssss, come in then.”

Sssaka ushers you into The Destroyer’s Chamber below the Arena and escorts you straight to the cage. It is small and domed, just a narrow cylinder with a rounded top made of bent steel construction wire, the kind they use to reinforce concrete. The cage is comfortably taller than you, you're short and petite, but it is narrow too, hardly wide enough to stick out your elbows. Hardly wide enough to squat in. It is your own little human aviary.

You remove your clothing: your practical shoes, your branded Destroyer jacket with the commemorative battle holograms, your Arena jersey made up in The Destroyer’s colors, your fine blouse, your long skirt, your hose and bra and underwear. You stand naked, small and trim, toned from the urgent ministrations of the family fitness trainer, thin from the meal plan from the family dietician, and prettier and bustier thanks to a discrete trip to a Shaper. You look healthy and pretty and rich, but none of it really feels earned exactly. Which of course is a problem for the family therapist, or would be if they weren’t so obviously working for your father.

You hand your clothes to Sssaka and go to the cage, skin prickling in the cool morning air. You get down on your hands and knees and crawl on the floor, squirming your body shamelessly to squeeze through the narrow cage opening and inside your enclosure. You blush and feel grateful that The Destroyer has never seen this daily act of humiliation. You doubt it makes you look sexy. Ssaka locks the tiny door behind you, sealing you inside. He gives you a nod and then activates the winch which lifts the cage off the floor. You grasp the rough metal bars and wait for the cage to stop swaying. Here you are, back again. Still.

***

You hear the rattle of chains and twist to see one of The Destroyer’s pets staring at you. The Shaped tiger-girl is laying in her bed, her muscular orange and black-striped body artfully posed with her eight large breasts pooled down her front. Tiger’s golden eyes regard you with a predatory hunger and her heavy tail flicks thoughtfully. Inside the cage you shiver, even though you’re protected by the cage bars, even though Tiger’s ankle is chained to the wall, you can’t help but feel like prey whenever Tiger looks at you like that. You’re never sure if the petgirl wants to eat you or fuck you or both. Tiger sees you watching and yawns with a rumble, showing off her sharp teeth and her long rough tongue. Then Tiger crawls to her mate, the sleeping lion-man, rolls him onto his back and climbs atop him. Straddling the drowsy Lion she places her big forepaws on either side of his head and leans down to lick his face while rubbing her crotch demandingly against his. Lion opens his eyes and purrs, reaches up to grope Tiger’s mass of tits with his paws. Tiger growls playfully, bites Lion gently in his luxurious brown mane and presses herself against him, her tail lashing the air. Lion thrusts his hips, grinds their crotches together and drags his claws across Tiger’s back, scratching her and making her purr. Tiger bats at him with her claws, kittenish revenge, and the Lion knocks her off him with a roar. Tiger twists effortlessly, lands on her four paws and turns away from Lion, lifting her ass and tail, presenting herself. Tiger is on his knees and his huge pink cock is erect and exposed from his sheath. He makes a rumble like distant thunder, a fearsome growling purr, and then pounces, his ropey muscular body grappling Tiger, clutching her by the waist, working his cock against her pussy. The two wiggle and growl, fumbling, until with a triumphant snort Lion forces his cock into Tiger. Tiger yowls and bucks and Lion starts to thrust and growl, two massive Shaped beasts straining against each other with all their strength.

As you watch Tiger and Lion fuck you wonder what it would be like to be them. To decide, like however it was they decided, to forsake your humanity and become a Pet, to become property. Did you want that? To maybe be a cheetah-girl, long and angular and ropey, with eight little breasts, pinned under the strong paws of Lion, feeling him ram his cock into you as you grind your claws into the mattress and yowl like Tiger? Would they welcome you into their Pride? Would Tiger be jealous? Would Tiger fuck you with her long rough tongue? Did you even want to be their mate? You shake your head, no. You were not here for them.

Tiger yowls again and twists in orgasm. Inside the cage you blush, but don’t look away. Maybe you could be a different kind of pet? Take inspiration from your cage maybe, become a bird creature, a sexy little songbird harpy. You close your eyes and picture yourself with wings instead of arms, bright blue feathers with lavender highlights, a skirt of downy thighs over scaled avian legs, and long flowing tail feathers in the brightest pink. You imagine opening your elegant beak and singing a beautiful song that makes everyone fall in love with you. That makes The Destroyer fall in love with you. Makes her break open the cage and free you. Makes her want to fuck you in the avian pussy while you flap your wings in ecstasy. You gasp and open your eyes, shiver, is that the life you want? Could you become someone’s plaything? Lion roars and clutches Tiger tightly, thrusts his hips one last time, and cums.

***

“Why do you keep returning?”

You shake your head to wake from your dose and see Monk staring at you. The tall Blue Deviant regards you intently with their large black eyes. The metal bands implanted in their skin glint and their wide nostrils are rimed with bright red dust. Monk’s hands are black with grease and he smells like oils and solvents. “You must know by this time that she does not give a fuck about you.”

Monk paces around your cage, arms and hands twitchy, the many tools on their belt rattling. You watch them blankly, too used to the mercurial temper of The Destroyer’s tech to be baited. “It is a cruelty to yourself to continue this. Why not surrender to the truth? You can observe how she does not hesitate to couple with her chosen playthings.” Monk wipes the drug residue from their face, replacing it with a smear of black lubricant. “How can you ignore reality?”

You stare at Monk silently, mouth set defiantly. You know how The Destroyer values determination. This is a test of your resolve. You will endure it as long as she needs. You can be a badass too. You cross your arms.

Monk laughs and walks away, “This one will never understand humans!”

***

The Destroyer’s bedroom door snaps open and you stare at it with rapt attention. Your heart flutters and you grip the cage bars so hard that it hurts. This is why you are here! This is everything! This is what you live for.

In walks The Destroyer, her lean face set in a grin. You drink her in like medicine, her strong angular face with its rough collection of scars, that one long prominent cicatrix running ragged and red from her temple to her chin, the crest of undercut black hair messy from the bedroom, her perfect violet eyes. You shiver as you experiences something transcendental. Encircled in The Destroyer’s slim white arms are her lovers for the night: short twin women, the visiting Archer-Acrobats, both looking giddy and a little ashamed. Their lithe dancer bodies are still naked and the elaborate linework of their blue or red bodypaint is ruined, smudged and rubbed away, patterns undone by a very intimate sort of combat. The Destroyer’s white prosthetic body is stained and streaked with smears of blue and red, her own markings of carnal victory. You blush and bite your lip; feel a familiar pang of jealousy. You would give anything to be with her!

As The Destroyer guides her twin lovers across the room you imagine the three of them fucking. The Destroyer’s slender mannequin body morphing sexually, growing heavy breasts and a thick long cock. A straining porcelain white erection. A mocking little smile. A raised battered eyebrow issued like a challenge. Hungry violet eyes. You imagine the Archer-Acrobats being nervous, excited and scared, feeling dirty since maybe this is the first time they’ve ever shared a lover. They look to each other, unsure, but one of them smiles, maybe the blue twin, and the red one smiles back, shy but eager. You picture them coming together like dancers, circling gracefully, elusive and silly, until The Destroyer grabs one, the red sister, and pulls them to her hungry mouth. You imagine passionate kissing, lips and teeth and tongues, until the jealous blue twin joins them, starts to gently gnaw on The Destroyers neck. The three grapple intimately, kissing and caressing and fondling, two contortionists and a hyper-flexible prosthetic, a human and cyborg knot of arousal. Bodypaint rubs onto The Destroyer, her white body becoming a canvas daubed with passion. The three sway and stumble and urgently grope their way into bed with The Destroyer braced on her back and the two acrobats balanced on top of her. Blue straddles The Destroyer’s hips, works her huge cock into her pussy, gasps and moans. Red sits on The Destroyer’s face, presents her cunt for feasting, moans and gasps, mirrors her twin. The two Archer-Acrobats begin to thrust their hips, to cup their small high breasts, to grind and fuck, panting, motions almost identical, subconsciously synchronized as if they were performing in The Arena. The twins move faster, rock harder, two gymnasts fucking themselves on a living apparatus, and then, all at once, they simultaneously cum, both falling bonelessly forward into the other's arms, moaning into their sister’s desperate mouths.

The Destroyer knocks them off her in a gasping pile, Red splayed awkwardly on top of Blue. The Destroyer grabs Red by the handles of her hips and drags her up onto her knees and starts to fuck her from behind. Blue looks up from below, pinned on her back with her legs spread open, and The Destroyer gently shoves Red’s head between her sister’s thighs. Red is aghast and gasping, her twin’s engorged pussy is right in her face and every thrust from The Destroyer is bumping her closer. She is just barely holding herself back. Blue gasps and squirms, heart racing, she sees what’s happening and wants it, but is ashamed of wanting it. Red slips, or maybe Blue grabs her with her thighs and pulls her in, but suddenly Red’s lips are on her twin’s labia, and she’s kissing and sucking and fucking Blue with her mouth. Blue moans and grinds her pussy into her sister’s face while The Destroyer growls and just fucks Red harder…

You’re panting and your nipples ache; your pussy is hot and wet and throbbing with need. You want to fuck The Destroyer so fucking bad! Your body yearns for The Destroyer! Lusts to be pounded by her! Begs to be inside her! Your blood boils with jealousy and desire! You gasp down deep breathes to calm yourself as The Destroyer kisses the Archer-Acrobats goodbye and sends them away happy and guilty and hand-in-hand. The Destroyer smiles and wipes red bodypaint from her cheek and walks to her dojo for her morning meditation.

***

You watch the Chamber grow busier as The Destroyer’s team arrives for work. Her steel-spined elderly manager argues with a Promoter about the purse for an upcoming fight. Monk eats a jittery meal while staring plaintively at a broken component, still trying to puzzle out a quick fix. An earnest young female Reptilian and a deadeyed human man with the hood of a cobra conduct the Serpent’s business. Sssaka calmly turns away a group of Blue Deviants looking for an autograph. Tiger and Lion lounge on their mattress, fed and sated and contently bored. And you, hanging in your cage.

You think about the tethers that pull them all to The Destroyer. Sssaka’s drive to rediscover faded glory, his love for the fight. Monk’s need to compete and have his brilliance celebrated in Socially Disharmonious ways. The Manager’s greed and material appetites. The Reptilian Syndicate’s hunger for a Cut of the Action and the mysterious Patronage of the Serpent. Steady meals and sex and ownership for the pets. It’s clear to you what everyone is getting out of the deal. Except for you, yourself, why are you still here?

You wiggle your arm up you body and play with your hair, why are you so obsessed with The Destroyer? What compels you to come here day after day to hang naked in a tiny cage? Why do you do it when The Destroyer continues to ignore your devotion? You’d been a fan first, of course, one of the many packing the Arena galleries to watch the Champions fight. It’d been an illicit thrill for you, a place you could sneak off to to escape your father. You had always loved the spectacle, the skill and excitement, the simple brutality of it. The storylines and drama. The romance. How fucking awesome it was! You quickly chose favorites: Lagertha The Untamed, Aggronotham The Strongest, Sssandisss The Quicksilver, and obviously, Halley The Destroyer. Over time you became fixated on The Destroyer, this human cyborg gladiator from Mythical Earth, a cloned barbarian princess who was completely badass and cool. You were awestruck by her, enraptured, smitten, and increasingly obsessed. You only wanted to watch her fight, only thought about her, only fantasized about her. But why exactly? Was it because The Destroyer had forged herself out of nothing? That she was strong and brave and independent? That she was free? Or maybe you saw The Destroyer as a valiant knight come to save you from the unfair expectations of your father? A childish fable of maidens and heroes and forever love. Or maybe you just found violence sexually exciting? That the danger gave you a thrill that made you hot inside, that made your heart race, that made you horny. Was this all just an idiotic infatuation? You sighed, what did it even matter the reason why? It doesn’t change how you feel.

***

The Destroyer was about to fight in The Arena and everyone was leaving to watch. You fidget and wish you could join them; you desperately missed seeing The Destroyer fight, but you knew you couldn’t go. Your time as an Arena spectator was in the past, you would stay here locked in this cage, day in and day out, until The Destroyer released you or until you gave in. You refuse to break, even if though it means missing your heroine in action.

You overheard that The Destroyer would fight The Quicksilver in a knife duel. You can picture Sssandisss, a tall but lean Reptilian Female, a House Outcast, a fugitive who earned her continued freedom from being too deadly to punish. She had fled to Flotsam and sold her lethal skill to The Arena and earned a bloody reputation for speed and cunning and cruelty. They say she used a cocktail of drugs that gave her uncanny reflexes and immunity to pain, but which were slowly killing her. They say she had her scales plucked out one by one and replaced with armored replicas. They say she ate the hearts of her defeated opponents. They say she was the deadliest knife fighter to ever duel. She was really cool! You are thrilled your Champion is going against The Quicksilver! You think The Destroyer will socket herself into an organoform prosthetic, one that mimics living muscles and bone and is powered by a vulnerable hydraulic circulatory system. This configuration was probably still stronger and better able to shrug off damage than Sssandisss, but would make The Destroyer slower and vulnerable to knife wounds. It would be a fair fight.

If you close your eyes you can easily imagine the fight. You’ve seen The Quicksilver duel dozens of times, and The Destroyer fight hundreds, and you let your familiarity sketch a scene. The Quicksilver would try to always stay one step ahead, circle and maintain space, but then suddenly dart in, try and slither through The Destroyer’s guard, score a hit and quickly retreat. She would try to wear down The Destroyer with small cuts, wait until her opponent made a mistake, then exploit it for a killing blow. The Destroyer would attack in a straight line, press and press and press, try to knock the quicker Reptilian off balance, accept all the little wounds as the cost of the initiative. Trust that aggression would keep her safe. Maybe The Destroyer would land a few solid blows, quickly gain the upper hand, but maybe she would end up playing into Sssandisss’ game, begin to grow desperate as her vulnerable prosthetic body was whittled apart. Fearing a slow loss, The Destroyer would muster herself, feint, and recklessly attack!

A total assault!

Suddenly! All out!

But The Quicksilver would be ready!

Would’ve been waiting, even.

Sssandisss would pounce, execute a deadly thrust too lightning quick to block!

She’d feel victory in her cold Reptilian heart!

But then she’d feel a horrible flash of pain and a confusing gout of wet as The Destroyer hacked out her throat. Because of course the Destroyer’s attack was a feint! The entire fight was! All a careful act designed to draw Sssandiss into attempting a killing thrust, a moment of vulnerability that The Destroyer could anticipate and counter, a chance to land her own definitive blow. It would work brilliantly! The Destroyer would stand victorious, clutching the terrible wound she accepted to win, while The Quicksilver collapsed to the sand hemorrhaging from her neck. The Arena would erupt in cheers and applause! The crowd would go wild! Spectacular! Awesome! Fucking amazing!

You were sorry you missed it.

***

The victory celebration is as wild as ever! The Chamber is festive and loud and packed with fucked up sapients. There are giddy Deviants and wealthy humans and Reptilian Gangsters. You calmly survey the room: Lion crouches over Tiger licking her pussy with his rough tongue, the Manager quietly confers with Krait, a terrifying human gangster with midnight blue scales, Monk is off in their workshop doing drugs and fucking groupies, Aggronotham The Strongest sings a raunchy ballad while a strangely bovine Blue clings to him, A42-XL The Machine shudders in a corner while its mind processes a potent psychedelic algorithm, a fat Arena Marshal gets his dick sucked by a ravishing intern, the Archer-Acrobats are back, looking shy and awkward, blushing and avoiding each other's eyes, but holding hands and sitting too close together, girls and boys and robots laugh and flirt, two burly Blues arm wrestle, their tattooed arms bulging with strain, Sssandiss The Quicksilver makes an appearance wearing a thick restorative brace around her neck, Sssaka hovers about like a fussy mother, and The Destroyer lounges amongst it all, arm wrapped around a lithe little Reptilian female with the most glorious breeding plumage.

You sigh and remember your first trip to The Destroyer’s Chamber. It was a night like this one, a bawdy celebration after The Destroyer bested Gnurgrrar The Terrible in a titanic clash, the armored Moon Ogre against the cyborg in a towering BattleMech. You’d gone to watch the fight, snuck in really, but been spotted by Javiannd, the lame son of your father’s associate. You panicked a little, worried that Javiannd would rat you out, but instead he’d puffed himself up and asked if you maybe wanted to meet The Destroyer. You squealed, actually squealed, and maybe jumped up and down a little, and said of course, fuck yeah! Javiannd looked very smug, probably thought this was his chance to impress a chick, and led you down a series of now familiar stone corridors to The Destroyer’s Chamber door. They were greeted by the stony face of Sssaka, but Javiannd mumbled about some sapient named Pit, which somehow got you inside. You had frozen, had gasped, you were here! Inside The Destroyer’s Chamber! Holy shit! Your heart was flailing in your chest and you wanted to dance and scream, but you tried to play it cool. Look like you belonged there. But that was Sssaka! The Champion turned mentor! And there was Monk, the rebel genius! And Brick The Deviant! And Lagertha The Untamed! And Chrgthmrggddr The Unpronouncable! So many Champions in one room! And! Fucking fuck! Oh your blessed fucking ancestors!

Halley The Destroyer! Right here!

In the flesh!

So to speak.

You had gone completely still, paralyzed with nerves and glee and too many emotions! Your face was doing something weird and you had tears in her eyes. Here was you hero! Right in front of you! You wanted to scream but couldn’t make a sound bigger than an excited wheeze. Poor Javiannd tugged at your hand, tried to steer you off to whoever Pitt was, but you were rooted in place. You only wanted to meet The Destroyer! Fuck Javiannd! Nothing else mattered! You urgently wiggled free of him and rushed towards the Destroyer, who was sitting in a big hot tub filled with pretty girls.

Halley The Destroyer looked up at you and you froze. Your mind screamed Ahhhhhhh! This was closer to your hero than you’d ever been! Close enough to touch! The Destroyer’s face was so much stronger in person, sharper and rougher, and her violet eyes so much more intense and piercing and beautiful! She seemed at once larger and smaller, more concentrated, the epic somehow squeezed into a mortal body. This was the first time you had seen The Destroyer’s petite white prosthetic and you ogled its slim contours and small high breasts. She was too real! Ahhhhh! The Destroyer studied you carefully, her face giving nothing away. You felt your stomach tumble like it was full of gladiators and your tongue was suddenly idiotic and enormous. Halley The Destroyer frowned, “Can I help you?”

“Duhhhh…”

“Jesus.”

You heard a giggle and saw everyone in the hot tub was staring at you. Six pairs of eyes belong to gorgeous naked girls, each one with hair and skin somehow dyed a different color. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple; a rainbow of babes cringing for you. The seventh pair belonged to a beautiful woman with curly horns and silver hair and three perfect tits squeezed into a halter top swimsuit. The horned lady smiled warmly, “C’mon honey, you can do it.”

You opened and closed your mouth, made fists, looked back at Halley The Destroyer. “I’m just! Your! Biggest! Fan!”

“Gee,” The Destroyer said, “Thanks.”

“Halley…” The horned lady scolded and swatted The Destroyer with her long thin tail, “Be nice!”

“Fine…” The Destroyer plastered a smile on her scarred face. “It means so much to be your Champion and it’s always great to meet a fan.” She made a fist with her tiny white hand, “Always keep fighting!”

The horned lady rolled her eyes, “It was lovely to meet you!”

And suddenly there was a gentle hand on your shoulder and Sssaka was leading you away from the hot tub and toward the exit. He handed you a photo of The Destroyer haphazardly signed HALLEY in marker and gently shoved you out the door. “ThankSss for viSssiting,” he hissed pleasantly, and then locked you out.

You had collapsed against the wall, stunned. You were giddy and exhilarated from meeting your idol, but you felt so fucking dumb too! Why had you sounded like such an idiotic fangirl? Why couldn’t you have said something cool or suave? Said something smart and technical about a fight, shown you were a connoisseur and not some love struck girly? And why hadn’t you been invited into the hot tub? You were cute, weren’t you? Sexy? You would make a great groupie! You blushed and rubbed at your burning eyes. It was so unfair! You finally met The Destroyer and it hadn’t gone right at all! You’d just blown your one chance! You clutched the autograph to your chest, tucked your legs up, and sat pressed against the rough stone just outside the door.

You stayed when Javiannd had come to find you and stayed when he’d stormed off.

You stayed as sapients left the party by the ones or twos or threes.

You stayed after it was quiet and the rainbow groupies radiantly departed.

You stayed hours later when the woman with the horns emerged with messy hair bite and marks on her neck. The woman saw you and stopped, gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, and trotted away on dainty hooves. “Good luck,” she’d whispered.

You stayed all night, cold and unhappy, but not willing to leave.

You stayed until morning when the door opened and Halley The Destroyer looked down at her. She blinked sleepy eyes, “You’re the fan from last night?”

You nodded, not daring to speak.

“And you stayed here all night?”

Another nod.

“You’re a stubborn one aren’t you?” The Destroyer said, truly focusing on you completely for the first time.

You nodded again, mouth set in a line.

“Well, why don’t we find out exactly how stubborn you are?”

The Destroyer smiled with an edge.

“Sssaka fetch the cage.”

***

You watch the party wind down. The female Reptilian with the beautiful feathers does a seductive dance and disappears with The Destroyer for a time, but eventually leaves in the company of Krait. Monk drags a half comatose A42-XL into their workshop for a reboot or repairs or sex, you have no idea. Aggronotham and the oddly busty Blue publicly fuck, and then leave together, probably to fuck some more. The Acrobat-Archers get very high and makeout and disappear together, secretively, furtively. The Manager punches out an uppity young prostitute and calls it a night. The hangers on and the groupies, the Champions and their entourages, the sponsors and the guests, all slowly filter away to homes or other smaller parties, until finally it is just The Destoryer and you left in the Chamber.

The entrance chimes and there is suddenly one more: a tall muscular Nordic woman with her four arms crossed over her generous chest. “Hail Eleventh!”

“Steadfast…” The Destroyer says quietly.

“It hath been far too long, Halley.”

“A lifetime.”

You look at this newcomer, this towering woman. She's taller than you, easily the tallest person in the room, and stands with an almost jovial confidence, as if nothing on Flotsam could touch her. She's wearing a skintight purple tunic with a plunging neckline and cutout for her lower cleavage and black tights that show off her powerful legs and flanks. Her long ash blonde hair is netted up around her head in a complicated braid like a crown. The woman’s bare shoulders are carved from bulky muscle and her four forearms are tight with sinew. The woman looks around the empty room with bright sapphire blue eyes and smiles playfully.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” The Destroyer asks, her voice shockingly nervous.

“I witnessed your victory today,” Steadfast says huskily while removing her tunic. “It made me yearn for your touch.”

“Freya…”

“Tut-tut,” Freya says dropping her tunic to the floor. Her shoulders ripple with muscle and her four tits hang proudly, bobbing aggressively with every step closer. “Do not mistake my intentions, fair Eleventh, this is a challenge! A duel!” She touches her Keyband and her integrated trousers and boots go slack, letting her neatly step free of them. She stands naked and stretches out her big arms “I have come to defeat you and then bed you.” She cracks multiple knuckles, “In that order.”

“Jesus…” Halley The Destroyer says in a voice like a gasp.

“Do you surrender so easily? Have you become a coward?”

The Destroyer grins and stands, bites her lip in delight. Her white prosthetic body starts to expand, gaining height and muscle mass, growing to match the Nordic woman in stature. Her pert breasts swell and a second pair of tits emerge from her lower chest. She grunts and two lumps sprout from her sides and grow into a second pair of thick muscular arms. The Destroyer spreads her legs and a heavy cock and balls form on her crotch. She flexes her suddenly beefy body and cracks her own multiple knuckles, “Oh you are so fucked.”

Freya ogles her and smiles, “An auspicious oath…”

The two women charge each other, lock their four hands and shove, bare feet digging at the floor for grip, a test of strength. The two strain and grunt, but neither moves more than a few inches either way. The girl in the cage has seen The Destroyer’s petite prosthetic body move with uncanny speed and perform feats of impossible strength, so she’s clearly governing her body for a fair fight. The Destroyer growls around a grin and heaves, but Freya rolls with it, dropping onto her back and flipping The Destroyer over her tumbling body in a throw. The Destroyer whoops and tumbles, rolls back to her feet and turns to face a smiling Freya. “What is that Earthling saying? Old lay?”

Halley The Destroyer laughs and smiles mischievously. She paws at the ground with a foot and throws two of her hands up beside her head like horns, makes a noise like a bellow. She charges and the two women lock together again, cheek to cheek, foreheads on shoulders, four arms involved in a complicated grapple. The two hulking muscular women push and circle, try and break arms free, try to unbalance each other, bump into a table and knock over a chair. The Destroyer drops back a big step and yanks downward, suddenly, violently, and Freya is tugged forward, nearly unbalanced, forced to pull up with all her strength to keep her feet. The Destroyer lunges immediately forward, backing off Freya and making her dance to stay upright. Then Halley The Destroyer drops and yanks again and Freya is already pulling back, but The Destroyer lets her go, drops and tackles Freya by the hips, one pair of arms wrapping each of Freya’s legs, lifting and twisting and dropping Freya to the ground flat on her back. The Destroyer has Freya by the thighs and is using her body to hold Freya down, but Freya laughs and wraps Halley with her legs, pulls her closer, grabs her head in her four hands and shoves The Destroyer’s face into her pussy. Halley let’s go of Freya’s legs, tries to push herself free, but The Destroyer has her bound in a viselike thigh grip, and grinds her cunt into Halley’s face. The Destroyer’s prosthetic cock is rock hard and she stops fighting and starts to kiss Freya’s vulva. Freya moans and writhes, brings three of her arms up to play with her tits, but also works her legs between The Destroyer’s arms and suddenly twists, cork-screwing her body with her arms and back, rolling herself on top of Halley so that she’s kneeling on Halley’s face with her cunt still pressed to her lips. “Hah!” Freya laughs, humping The Destroyer’s face and fondling her own tits. Halley sputters and kicks her legs, fighting to get free, so Freya spins her body around and leans forward to pin down The Destroyer’s legs while still rubbing her cunt on Halley’s face. Freya licks her lips and bows her head, gently runs her tongue along the length of The Destroyer’s achingly hard prosthetic cock. “Ohhhh….” Halley gasps as Freya wraps her mouth around her cock and starts to suck. Halley starts to hungrily eat Freya’s cunt and raises her four hands to caress and knead Freya’s four hanging breasts. “Dothth thoo thurpfhrendurph?” Freya mumbles with a mouth full of cock.

“Never!” Halley The Destroyer growls. She pinches all four of Freya’s nipples and twists. Freya yelps and rolls off The Destroyer and clutches her suddenly painful tits. She guffaws, “Fucking hellfire you fiend!”

The Destroyer does a kick up to her feet and wipes pussy juice off her lips. “I thought you liked it rough?”

Freya smiles and raises her four hands defensively and moves cautiously toward The Destroyer. Halley effects a similar pose and the two circle, stepping around and over furniture, hands bobbing, watching for a misstep or opening. Halley The Destroyer steps on a discarded bottle, stumbles, momentarily unbalanced, and Freya swoops in to grab a leg, but Halley senses it and jumps up and back, kicking her legs out of danger and riding Freya to the floor. Freya grunts and catches herself with two hands, and pushes herself to her knees, but The Destroyer spins around her and establishes herself behind Freya, chest on her back, crotch to her ass, cock pressed between them, in control. Freya tries to stand, but Halley pushes her down, jams her top arms through Freya's and clutches her neck, pinning Freya’s top arms uselessly and holding her down. Freya tries to use her lower arms for leverage, but Halley manages to entangle then one by one and pin them back like little wings. Freya is crushed facedown to the floor, and Halley humps her, rubbing her cock in the cleavage of Freya’s ass. “You should surrender,” Halley gasps while thrusting her hips, “let me fuck you already…”

“Never!” Freya growls while forcing her legs under her body. She grits her teeth and strains, pushing with all her might, lifting herself slowly, haltingly, back to her feet with Halley still draped on her back. The two stumble like drunk dancers, Freya trying to free her arms, Halley clutching her tightly, chest pressed to her back, arms locked together. Freya growls and rubs her plush and muscular ass against The Destroyers erection. Halley’s eyes lid in pleasure and she let’s go of Freya’s bottom arms, brings her lower hands up to cup and squeeze Freya’s tits. Freya gasps and reaches down, pushes Halley’s cock between her legs so that its trapped in the hot wet embrace of her thighs and vulva. Halley The Destroyer humps while Freya The Steadfast rocks her hips, the two giant women growling and panting, grappling and dry fucking. Halley whines and releases her lock on Halley’s top arms, let’s her hands slide down to clutch all four of Freya’s breasts. Freya tilts her head back in pleasure, then rams her hips straight back into The Destroyer’s gut and jumps free, scrambles away from Halley, and vaults over a couch. “Old lay!”

Halley stands growling in frustration, four hands opening and closing, her achingly hard cock shiny with pussy. She grins, “You bitch.”

“Come forth and get it.” Freya settles into a combat stance and raises her hands defensively.

The Destroyer whoops and charges, bounds onto the couch, four big breasts flopping, and launches herself at Freya in a flying tackle. Freya catches her, but stumbles, knocks over a table scattering cups and drugs, and falls down, dropping both combatants into a tangle on the floor. Freya clutches her belly and gasps for breath, winded, and Halley rolls Freya onto her back and climbs on top of her. Freya grunts and struggles, but Halley shoves her shoulders down with two arms and spreads Freya’s legs with her other pair. Freya moans and Halley pushes her girthy prosthetic cock into her, inch by pale white inch. “Honored ancestors….” Freya curses breathlessly.

“Surrender?” Halley The Destroyer gasps as she starts to slowly fuck Freya, continuing to pin down the Nordic woman. Freya braces herself with a pair of elbows, thrusts back against Halley, holds The Destroyer tight against her body, smashes their eight breasts together. She bites Halley passionately on the lips. “Never…”

Halley growls, thrusting harder in powerful bursts that make Freya exhale like body blows. She smiles showing her teeth, “You… can’t…win…”

Freya’s head is tipped all the way back, her eyes are closed and her mouth hangs open, “Ahhhh….”

“Submit!” Halley grunts, making her cock grow even larger.

Freya winces in pleasure, shudders, writhes. She is powerless against the pounding force of Halley’s thrusts, gobsmacked by the feeling of The Destroyer’s cock expanding inside her cunt, stretching her more and more and more. She was losing herself. “Fuck….”

“Surrender…”

“No!” Freya’s eyes go wide and her muscular body flexes, every sinew going taut with strength, and, just, barely, forces the pair to roll over, still locked together at the hips, so that she is perched on top of Halley, riding her, fucking her, in control. Freya grabs her four tits, rolls her hips and bucks, fast and hard, frantically. Halley kneads her own breasts and grabs Freya by the hips, steadying her, stopping them from coming apart. Freya grinds violently against Halley, who moans and thrusts back up against Freya, their chiseled thighs and abdomens rippling with effort, both women panting and growling, faces grimacing in ecstasy and focus. Halley lets out a deep groan and thrusts, body going tight as she comes. Freya arches her back, crushes her tits, screams out in orgasmic joy: “VICTORY!!!”

The two collapse together, a relaxed pile of panting muscle. Halley The Destroyer snerks, “You can’t be serious?”

“I came on top.”

“I had you pinned!”

Freya runs a finger down the long scar on Halley’s face. “Perhaps it was a draw then.”

***

You wake from your doze to see Freya slip back into her clothes and creep away from the couch where The Destroyer slumbers. She sees you watching and smiles, makes a sign for silence, and moves stealthily towards the exit. You don’t really know this Freya The Steadfast, have never seen her fight in The Arena, but she carries herself with the confidence and powerful grace of a true warrior. Also she’s built like an absolute fucking mountain. She must be another gladiator, or maybe some sort of soldier. You feel the familiar pang of jealousy: what does this Freya have that you don’t? Would The Destroyer wrestle and fuck you if you were a warrior? What if you left this cage tonight and dedicated yourself to The Arena?  Could you train and Shape and engineer yourself into something strong? Something deadly? The Destroyer had started as the pathetic clone of an Earthling girl, so it must be possible. Maybe you could leave here and return a Champion? You try to imagine yourself in combat, armed and armored, down in the Circle of The Arena, standing across the white sand from Halley The Destroyer, there to defeat your idol in battle and later to fuck her brains out. As Freya reaches the exit, she stops and gives you a Nordic Warrior Salute before disappearing into the night.

As soon as the entry door whispers shut Halley The Destroyer opens her eyes and sits up. You watch as she deflates her prosthetic body, its muscular proportions and extra limbs shrinking back into its slender white porcelain default. She grabs her skull, twists and lifts, and unsockets her head and neck from her body. Halley holds herself, turns her face to look back at her headless prosthetic, seemingly taking stock of herself, and then she cradles her head in her lap. You study her face and she looks solemn, not sad or disappointed, but lonely maybe. You look around the Chamber and it’s only you and her in the darkened space, and The Destroyer hardly knows you’re there. You think about all the sapients who surround The Destroyer during the day: her fans and sycophants, her business partners and associates, the other gladiators and Champions, Monk and Sssaka, her many lovers, and yet here she is alone but for a living decoration. You grip the bars of your cage and rest your forehead against the rough metal, you would go to her if you could, sweep her up in your arms and hold her. Care for her. Be the comfort and devotion The Destroyer deserves.

You sigh, what would it take for you to become her caregiver? A formal application? A quiet word with Sssaka? Or maybe something more radical? You imagine seeking out The Destroyer’s beautiful horned friend, The Shaper, and begging her to make you into a gift for Halley The Destroyer. To remake you into a body for her, a headless flesh and blood prosthetic that Halley could insert her head into. A body for her to wear that would be soft and warm and could move itself, that could nurture Halley and give her intimacy and humanity and love. A body that would always be there for her at the end of the day. You shiver, you would sacrifice your humanity to be her body. You want this.

The Destroyer’s prosthetic fondly strokes her decapitated head and then carefully reattaches it. She stands and stretches her neck, looks around and notices you. Her eyes widen and then she smiles, “You’re still here.”

You heart hammers in your chest and you lick your dry and clumsy lips. “Yes.” Always.

The Destroyer strokes the long scar on her face, “Incredible.” She takes a few steps and stops, rests a hand on a slim white hip. “And I guess you'll be back tomorrow too?”

“Of course.” Everyday, forever.

“Good.”

***

To be continued…

Chapter 28: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … 01df0ccf19

Flotsam

Chapter 28: Disarmed

I wake up in Clementine’s familiarly unfamiliar bed. My long dark hair is in my eyes and the clit on my face is itchy. I frown and reach to scratch it and… nothing happens! I can’t move my arms! I can’t feel my arms. I don’t have any arms. Holy fuck!

I’m armless!

I’m completely fucking armless!

Happiness radiates through my body!

I smile so hard my cheeks hurt and my facial labia gapes. I’m armless! Those disgusting appendages are gone!

And gone forever if I have anything to say about it.

I relax onto my back and wiggle in the warm sheets like a seal. I feel so light and free and elegant. I sigh and think about my reflection: long elegant legs, wide hips and a full round ass, prominent vulva, a narrow waist (thankfully deflated), large gravity defying breasts, and my beautiful rounded shoulders. The perfect smooth unbroken line of my hourglass figure. My body is beautiful. Even my face is beautiful. Obviously the cunt that replaced my mouth is vulgar and a bit embarrassing, but the dainty pussy slit bisecting my face is lovely, my violet eyes are lovely. I’m weird, but I’m beautiful. I’m a living work of art.

I shiver, I’m art. I’m something meant to be looked at. Something to be admired. Something to be displayed. And without arms I’m helpless to hide it.

I feel an electric thrill pass through my body: I’m helpless. I feel a heat build in body and my pulse thrums in my cunts. My cunts that I can’t touch, that I can’t play with, that I can never again relieve without help. I gasp, I will never have another orgasm alone. The pussy on my face drools a little and I feel obscenely exposed. I can’t hide my arousal, I can’t disguise the naked hungry pussy on my face. I can’t even put on a facemask. I’m totally on display, shamelessly revealed! If only someone would come and take advantage of me. Holy fuck I’m horny! Fuck! I use my legs to push myself up onto the pillows and hopelessly rub my thighs together. Fuck.

I stop and frown.

Crap, my clitoris really does itch…

“Clementine! I need help!”

I hear the delightful clop of hooves and see the beautiful face of my magical hostess. She smiles warmly but I can see the concern on her face. “What is it honey?”

I study Clementine like a meal. Her beautiful facial features: high cheekbones, a delicate nose, generous lips, slim elegant eyebrows, and the comforting blue-green eyes of my ex-boyfriend. A long cascade of shimmering silver hair styled in loose curls and sharp elfin ears. Black lacquered spiral horns that frame her face. A graceful slender body wrapped in a smart navy dress with a deep square neckline that displays the doubled cleavage of her three breasts and a short pencil skirt that doesn't quite hide the bulge of her cock. Long shapely legs that recurve into a pair of dainty cloven hooves. A playfully flexible tail swaying behind her. I feel my heart flutter in my chest. God she’s gorgeous. “Halley, what do you need?”

I make myself go cross-eyed, “My clit is itchy!”

Clem grins and gives me a playful look, “Sure. Right.” She studies the shiny pussy on my face and puts her hands on her hips, “I think you just want me to diddle your face.”

I blush, “Noooo… It really is!”

“Then let me grow you some new arms and you can scratch it.”

“No.” Just the suggestion makes my skin crawl.

“I could make your legs more flexible and give you toe fingers?”

“Ew, no.” Hands are disgusting.

Clem taps the tip of her dainty nose, “Tentacles?”

I shiver, “Definitely no!”

"I could put them on your head. Like hair."

"Still no."

“How about a tail?” She waggles her own tail around suggestively.

Maybe? A tail could be cute. But no, not now. I love how I am. “No Clem.”

“Halley, please let me help you!” She stamps a hoof. "You can't live your life without arms!” She crosses her arms, “Or at least something analogous."

"Just like I couldn't live without a mouth? Or a face?" I give her a long vulva filled look. "I figured that out and I'll figure this out too. I'm very resourceful."

"And what about your itchy clit?"

"I could find a way to scratch it myself." I bat my eyelashes at Clementine and try to look coy, "But I'd rather you help me."

Clem giggles, "I knew this was a sex thing."

I stick out my face and Clementine gently scratches the labial hood of the clitoris between my eyes. "Ahhhh..."

"Good?"

"A little lower," I purr.

Clementine's finger dips down and I try to suck her finger into my mouthpussy. Clementine gasps and yanks her finger back, holds it up and wiggles it side to side. She sniffs her finger and smiles, "Tsk tsk."

"Tease."

"Me!?" Clem giggles and shakes her head. She sits lightly on the bed next to me and fixes my hair for me. "What else can I do for you?"

"You could fuck me," I say, joking-not-joking. I feel the urgent heat in my face and crotch. "I couldn't stop you."

"Halley..." Clem's hands stroke the smooth skin of my truncated shoulders. "Seriously."

“Who said I wasn’t serious?”

“Seriously.”

We share a look and the weight of the last few days is between us. That first night when HAL-E rushed me to Clem’s apartment still screaming for help, my mind in revolt with the conviction that my body was an abomination. Pleading for Clem to remove my legs while she held me down in bed. Being shown the anti-Meme and falling into another wondrous pattern with endless depths and complexity, feeling my mind unshift, and the sudden calm knowledge that I was exactly what I was meant to be. Perfect all along. The long awful fight with Clementine when she’d tried to give me unwanted arms. Crying and screaming and kicking and cursing. Bluebell and HAL-E separating us and then Bluebell staying with me that first night, wrapping me in her warm embrace. The session the next day with the Andromedan psychic Sensation-Of-Dawns-First-Warm-Touch, who was so pretty and somehow looked like a green version of Clem and Bluebell and me all at once and smelled like fresh baked cookies. The time spent meditating while her feelers roamed all around my head and her conclusion that my mind was set, that the Memetic Weapon and anti-Meme had irreversibly calcified my core identity. That I am who I am. That I will always want to be armless. And now this third day where Clem and I are dancing around my new body and our uncertain relationship and some hurt feelings and my very frank desire to be fucked already. Not awkward at all!

"Fine,” I say, trying to ignore my needy body. “I guess you could answer a question that's been bothering me."

"Okay?"

"Who was she?"

Clementine raises her perfectly sculpted silver eyebrows, "Who do you mean?"

"The Serpent. Which Halley was she?" I frown, "She never told me."

Clementine sighs. "She's Halley-3."

"Three!"

Clem frowns and looks away, "Yeah."

I lean forward and press myself against Clementine. I want to give her a hug, but I'm absolutely thrilled that I can't. "What happened to her? How did she become a fucking gangster?"

"I don't actually know the entire story," Clementine says, draping an arm around me and pulling me close. I melt into her arms. "She appeared in this bed not too long after Hank disappeared. I... wasn't doing great." Clem tucks some loose hair behind a horn.  "I was really hurt that Hank left me and super worried about Halley-Prime. And I was still getting used to being a woman." She smiles sadly, "And suddenly here was a new Halley! She was totally confused and terrified, and I was some strange woman claiming to be her boyfriend, trying to explain we were trapped on an alien planet. I had no idea what I was doing and she was freaking out and well, it was a total mess." Clem sighed, "It didn't take long for her to run away."

"Jesus."

"Yeah. I tried to look for her, but, fuck, I was alone too and not at my best. I hoped she would've come back on her own. And then, once I finally caught her trail, I was told rather roughly that she didn’t want to be found.” She sucks on her bottom lip, “I should've tried harder."

I press my face to Clem's, "You can't blame yourself for every dumb thing we Halleys do."

"And yet..." Clem smiles at me. "Anyway, I didn't see her again until after I was living with Halley-4. I don't know how it happened, but she'd somehow ended up in the Dragon's household as some kind of pleasure servant. She'd been Shaped to look more Reptilian with green scales on her back and limbs and a cute little tail. She must’ve been prized by The Dragon because she showed up at my apartment with like six bodyguards. I guess she’d heard about my new Shaping business and wanted some work done.” Clem closes her eyes, “I changed her hair to a cascading hood of midnight blue feathers, like a fecund Reptilian female with breeding plumage. I stitched her legs together and elongated them, drew them out into a long serpentine tail, and covered her body in wonderful jade and golden scales. And I gave her six tits, because, well, I like tits.” Clementine opens her blue-green eyes and smiles, “She was radiant, a twelve foot long snakey sex goddess. It was one of my first really extensive Shaping jobs and still a favorite, I think.”

"She must've gotten a Madmax makeover at some point," I mutter. "She looks more like a war goddess than a sex one: six disgusting arms, gigantic tail, armoured plating…” I shiver, remembering her looming over me with her claws and fangs out.

“Smirge must have built off my work.” Clementine grimaces, "I heard she was working for the Syndicate.”

"Smirge?”

"Smirge dox Merikelleth. The Serpent's Shaper."

"The one without the mouth! You know her!?"

"Yeah, we go way back.” Clementine closes her eyes rests her head against mine. The tip of a horn jabs me gently on the cheek. “It’s kind of my fault she has no mouth…”

“What do you mean?”

“When I learned I had Shaping powers I studied under an Ancient Master Shaper who lived on Flotsam. They were semi-retired but still teaching one last student, a prodigy who’d been deeply schooled in the traditional craft, but needed a true Master to teach her how to fully realize her power.”

“And that was Smirge?”

“Yeah. And then I appeared out of nowhere, a random Earthling with an incredible, almost unfathomable raw talent for Shaping. I went to Teacher and they took me as a student too, maybe because they wanted the challenge, or saw some part of their legacy in me, or probably because untrained I was too fucking dangerous to everyone else around me.”

I nuzzle Clem and smell her hair. “And Smirge was jealous?”

“So jealous! But only in hindsight, because she hid it very carefully. She guided me, taught me, won my trust, until one day she playfully challenged me to make myself a woman.”

“She tricked you.”

Clementine presses her forehead to mine and nods. “Yeah. Not knowing that it was a one-way gender trip, I made myself into she-Clem and learned I was stuck. It was only then I understood how much she hated me.”

I kissed my labia to Clem’s cheek, “I’m sorry.”

Clementine sighed, “Thanks, it all worked out okay for me. But Teacher was furious with her! They demanded an act of penance. Teacher made Smirge Shape away her own mouth and lobotomize the parts of brain that processed speech. She would never tell a hurtful lie again.”

Oh my god, she made herself permanently mute. I thought of her blank face and angry bruised eyes; no wonder she hates us. “That’s a hell of a punishment.”

“Yeah.” Clementine agrees. “Sometimes I think it was meant as a test for her, or for us. I think our Teacher wanted us to learn to work together and find a way to fix her speech as a grand team building puzzle.” She shakes her head, “But Smirge was too angry and left, I always assumed to prove she could fix herself without us.”

“And your Teacher?”

A wistful smile, “Died happily of old age like Ancient Masters sometimes do.”

I flop back onto the bed, “And now she Shapes playthings and prisoners for The Serpent. Who is Halley-3. Jesus Christ.”

“Life is strange.”

“Fucking right it is!”

I lay on my back and look at Clementine and see her watching me. I’m naked, I can’t dress myself, can’t ever dress myself, and she is looking at my nude torso and bare breasts. I lid my eyes and push out my tits and tilt my armless shoulders, "I'm helpless. You should take advantage of me."

“Halley…”

“Clementine,” I purr. “I’m horny. I’m boiling inside like an animal in heat and I can’t do anything about it.” I kick my legs and try to shed the blankets without looking silly. I twist around and arrange my naked body for her. “Take me.”

Clementine pushes herself away from me a bit, creates some breathing space. “Halley, you’ve just had a serious trauma and things are complicated and what kind of an asshole would I be if…”

I place a foot on the crotch of her dress, feel the heat of her hard cock through the thin fabric. "I could find a way to scratch it myself." I give Clementine my hungriest look and rub her cock with my sole, "But I'd rather you help me.”

“Fuck,” Clem gasps.

“Mmm,” I agree, slipping my feet under the hem of her dress to fondle her cock. She isn’t wearing underwear. The pussy on my face is engorged and slick with need. “Mmm…”

“Oh,” she says.

I start to rub her cock with my feet. My toes and the balls of my feet slide up and down her hot hard shaft. Clementine tilts her head back and hisses. I want to grab her by the horns and pull her face to mine, make her press her beautiful lips to my cunt, make her lick my facial clit. I feel a surge of excitement: I can’t! I can’t grab her horns! Can’t take the initiative past this fumbling footjob. Clem will have to take control, to do with me as she pleases. I moan and ache with desire.

“Hh-Halley…” I push her cock up against her smooth belly and knead the head of her cock with my foot. My toes get wet and slick with her warm precum. I glide my other toes all the way down the shaft of her cock, clumsily stroke her balls, and then reach under, my toes touching the hot wet slit of her vagina. Clementine gasps and I push my big toe inside her labia, feel the drenching heat of her insides. I place my heel on the mattress and tilt my foot up and down, rubbing my toes against her slick pussy, the hot bump of her clitoris, the back of her balls. Clementine moans and presses her weight against my foot, grinding her cunt into my toes. I start to rub her cock again, my foot and toes stroking, grinding her penis against her body, faster and faster. Clementine pants and looks down at me: so armless and helpless, facial pussy gaping and hungry, all splayed out in her bed like a gift. Her eyes glow with desire. “Oh,” she gasps, “Halley.”

Clem climbs off the bed and I'm afraid she’s going to leave me. Instead she undresses, touching her Keyband and letting her suddenly loose dress slip down her body, baring her three exquisite breasts, and then getting hung up on the straining pole of her erection. Clementine makes a cute self deprecating grin, and I giggle a little, as she unhooks her dress from her cock and let’s it pool navily to the floor. She towers over me totally revealed, breathing hard and tail swaying, a goddess.

Clementine climbs onto the bed and straddles me, her legs bracketing my hips, her cock and breasts hanging over me like a promise. She looms and stares into my eyes, studying, searching, and all I can do is stare back, desperation and lust in my gaze, unable to do anything but wait for her to use me. I gasp as something long and thin runs up my thigh and teases my cunt. What? Her tail! I moan as Clem pushes the tip of her tail inside my vagina and strokes me from the inside. And then she’s kissing me, her hot mouth pressed to my pussy lips, kissing, chewing, biting. I gasp and mash my face into hers, grind my clit against her nose. Pleasure radiates through my body, exploding from my face and cunt. “Fffffcuk…” I whine.

“Yesss…” Clem hisses, pulling back, grabbing my by the shoulders and smashing me into the mattress. I gasp and she parts my legs, insinuates herself between them, rubs her cock against my labia. She penetrates me, and I grunt, momentarily overwhelmed by her very large cock streching me open, plunging into me. “Ohhh fuck,” I gasp. She clutches my empty shoulders like handles and starts to thrust, her cock steadily pounding into me. “Oooo,” I say, “Ah.” Clementines tail lashes the air and loops around, plunges into her own cunt, as she starts to fuck herself too, “Ahhhh…” she agrees, teeth clenched, brows furrowed in concentration. She fucks me faster, building up speed, tipping our hips, crushing me into the bed. I moan and wiggle, so unable to help, so helpless to stop her. Clementine lunges forward, still thrusting, and presses her face to my pussy, urgently grinds her nose and tongue into my cunt. I close my eyes and gasp! I can bearely breath! Ecstasy radiates from my body and a volcanic force is building inside!  “Oh my God, oh Jesus! Don’t, don’t stop!” Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! I’m so fucking close! Fuck! “Ahhhh! I wail, my legs flailing, back spasming, orgasms exploding in my face and cunt! I open my eyes and Clementine’s face is pinched in almost fury and she slams into me again and again, and then an expression like surprise blossoms and her beautiful mouth opens to let out a long masculine grunt and she tenses against me as deep inside my body her cock explodes! And explodes! And explodes! And explodes!

We collapse together, panting and unarticulated, and my body is alive with joy. I feel incredible! But then Clem is lifting herself up and I’m distantly aware her cock is still rock hard inside me. Clementine sweeps silvery hair behind a horn and looks at me like a hungry lion. “Oh,” she purrs, “Halley.”

She pulls her cock out of me, inch by inch, erect and glistening with wet. She grabs me, rolls me over, lifts my wide ass into the air, and presses herself on top of me. “What?” I gasp, and then I feel her cock poking against the tight pucker of my anus. “Oh! Yess…” And then she’s pushing into me, painfully stretching me, stimulating the clitoris and almost-labia in my butthole. “Agghh,” I grunt as her huge cock plunges into my colon, “Ahh…” Clem growls and grinds herself against my ass, her cock straining against my insides, making me mewl like a bitch. She starts to thrust, fucking my butt, ramming me face-first into the bed. I feel the useless urge to brace myself, but can’t, wonderfully can’t, so I’m helplessly crushed into the mattress, nearly smothered in the pillows. My facial cunt grinds into the sheets and leaves a wet stain. Clem fucks my ass harder, faster, grunting. I gasp and moan, experiencing sharp pain, bright waves of pleasure, delicious discomfort. “Ohhh fuck…” I whimper and then “Fuck!” as Clementine forces her tail into my cunt, jamming it deep inside me like a dildo. “Fuck!” Clem slams her cock into my rectum and an orgasm ripples through my ass and cunt, “Jesus!” Tears are in my eyes it hurst so much! Hurts so good! And then Clementine is crushing my tits in her hands and growling and I feel boiling cum erupt up into my guts!

Clementine pulls her cock out of my battered asshole and extracts her tail from my cunt. I feel semen ooze out of my aching holes. My body is limp, exhausted, sensitive and hurting and glowing with pleasure. I just want to lay here and never move and… “Huh?”

Clementine is moving me, rolling me over onto my back, pushing me up onto the pillows, “What?”

Clem towers over me on her knees, stares at me, eyes glowing with hunger. Her cock is still hard. “You told me to use you,” she says very quietly, and then she is gripping my head in her hands and forcing her cock into the cunt on my face. “Yesss…” I gasp, a dirty thrill whirling inside, “Use me…” And Clem does, thrusting, fucking me in the face, her cock slamming into my pussy, my throat. I can taste the sweet spice of my cunt and the salt of her cum and the sharp bitterness of my asshole on her cock. Ecstatic sensations race through my face and I moan weakly. I wobble uselessly, my legs are like tingly rubber, my body melted. Clem growls in frustration and I feel sharp pinpricks in my scalp, a molten plastic heat in my skull. What? What is… Shaping! Clementine is Shaping something onto my head! And suddenly she is gripping something fused to my skull! Horns! She gave me horns! And she’s holding them like bicycle handles and ravaging my face! Absolutely reaming my mouth pussy! Growling and thrusting and fucking my throat vagina as hard as she can! I wail in a wordless joy, too weak to do anything but be held like a passenger! I’m just a willing hole to fuck! Just a toy! My facial pussy orgasms and orgasms again, and again! And Clementine cries and smashes her cock as deep into my mouthpussy as she can and a torrent of hot semen shoots down my throat!

Clementine eventually releases me and I flop onto the bed groaning. My entire body aches and my face is sore and loose and floppy. I try to turn my head, but my new horns get in the way. I’m gasping for air and my heart races in my chest. I feel absolutely fucking amazing!

“I told you I was horny,” I pant as Clem’s semen oozes down my face.

Clementine blushes and I feel a burst of warmth on my scalp and a sudden tug. Clem smiles bashfully and holds my detached horns like she’s just been caught red handed. “I guess I got carried away.”

“Mmm… I’ll say.” All three of my holes throb and ache wonderfully.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I smile at her as much as my face will allow. “I really needed that itch scratched.”

She smiles back, a little shy now. “I’m glad I could help.”

I’m floating, warm and tingly, “A girl could get used to this.”

“Then why don’t you stay here for a while?”

***

To be continued

Chapter 29 continued (part 2 of 2)

I blink my eyes and suck on my labia, I’d heard that name before. “She’s that rich Changeling lady, right?”

Halley-4 nods, “Yeah, Villah was the heiress of the Quillix interstellar business empire and unbelievably rich. I once asked her what she owned and she’d smiled and said a bit of everything. I’d laughed thinking it was a joke and she said: in human controlled space, a lot of everything. We are talking like Space Jeff Bezos or Galactic Bill Gates levels of wealth. I think her family literally owned some planets. Good ones too, the kind with flora and fauna and afternoon picnics in the sun. She might have been the wealthiest person on Flotsam, and certainly the richest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Villah walked into our shop with six breasts arranged in a triangle down her front, 3-2-1, and was wearing a shimmering white romper with a cutout for her chest and platinum pasties on her nipples. She was also wearing jewelry made from liquid Grey metal, her own personal AI servant and bodyguard. She was effortlessly beautiful, with that casual perfection that reeks of money and invisible effort. She smiled at me and Clem with perfect white teeth and told us to clear our schedule, she was throwing a party.”

“Villah was enchanted with Changelings and wanted to throw a party, but she needed a new Shape, and heard Clementine was the absolute best. And she could very much afford the best. She’d thrown Changeling parties before: a jungle affair with animal Shapes and costumes, a Aquarian-themed mermaid beach party, and a gender-swapped bachelor party, but she wanted to up her game. ‘Small’ theme parties were passé, she wanted to push the envelope, to explore the limits of Shaping, and while she would never admit it, she wanted to show off just how much space magic she could buy. She wanted to throw an epic Changeling’s Ball and wear a spectacular, impossible New Shape! Money was no object.”

“Clementine had asked what Villah had in mind, and she’d smiled, sat on my desk, and told us she wanted to be a real sensation! She gestured at me: like your muse at the show, before all the shrinkage. Something big! I smiled and put my hands on the swell of where my hips should be and informed her my body had taken intensive weeks to make. Clem added that building all that extra mass was hard on a client, and so the time commitment was partially a safety thing. Villah had kicked her feet and told us that wouldn’t do at all. She looked disappointed and impatient. She said: what can you do then? I want to be something unique. Clem looked uncertain, but I had an idea. I said: why don’t we try something smaller but technically challenging? Something truly surprising. I explained my idea and Villah had clapped her hands and told me she liked my moxie. Clem had licked her lips, already considering the problem, told us she thought she could do it, but she’d need a few days to pull it off. Villah had smiled, hugged us both, and told us that this was the start of a beautiful new friendship.”

Halley-4 shifted her centaur body, “Villah’s new Shape wasn’t a quick job, so she had us come stay in her mansion while Clem worked on it. And let me tell you: the galactically rich live different. Her ‘humble bachelorette pad’ is the largest house I’ve ever been inside of, truly massive on a cramped planet like Flotsam. It was up in the Terraces, right near the summit, and had at least three dozen rooms, servant quarters, a ballroom and conservatory and library. An observatory. A full holographic movie theatre. A sports complex. A sex dungeon. A huge swimming pool. A full service spa. And for a few weeks we were pampered honored guests. The food was incredible; they even had real meat! Chicken! Beef! The spa was divine.” Halley blushes, “And so was the sex dungeon. Me and Clem had such a good time.”

“Of course the reason we were there was to Shape Villlah, and it took hours of daily effort. Clem would quietly work on Villah, frowning in concentration and moving around her body like a masseuse, while I watched and assisted when asked. Villah was stuck holding still and was clearly bored. She would sometimes noodle on a hologram, or watch media, or listen to something, but she also talked to me, about my life and especially about Earth, it’s history and culture. Earth was one of the few forbidden human places and she was fascinated by it.” Halley chews her lip, “I know the stereotype of the hyper-rich is entitled unpleasant monsters, and Villah could be vain and demanding, but she was also intelligent and curious and charming. She was fun to talk with, and she had a natural talent with people.” Halley gives me a little smile, “Anyway, by the time we had finished Villah’s new Shape, she had decided her Changeling Ball would have a Roaring ‘20s Earthling theme.”

I laugh, “Great Gatsby style?”

“The Gilded Age in Space! Villah held the party in her mansion ballroom and had filled it with reproductions of period Earthling wealth. She hired musicians to play Earthling jazz as best they could, there was a champaign fountain and free flowing booze, and the staff dressed in tuxedos. All of the guests wore Earthling costumes; some nailed it, but so many got it hilariously wrong. Like wearing a slutty cleopatra halloween costume to ancient Egypt.” Halley shakes her head, “Villah invited all the Changelings we knew, but also a ton of the Flotsam rich. There were wealthy but libertine Blues and Reptilian gangsters and a who’s-who of the human elite all dressed like 20s partygoers. The rich humans didn’t just dress the part either, most of them were Shaped for the occasion too. Mostly little things: being very tall or short, sporting an extra tit or two, having a furry tail or feathers. A few daring women went armless for the evening. Some of Villah’s closest rivals went big: a living peacock feather gown, a trophy wife covered in reflective golden scales, a werewolf flapper in a torn dress. Expensive choices, but no one had a Shape nearly as interesting as the body we’d made for Villah.”

“Clem and I attended, obviously. Clementine was nervous and opted for a simple and classy black cocktail dress. Saff was a better sport and let me dress her up in a wonderful red flapper dress that looked amazing on her tall lean body. Dog-Boy begrudgingly wore a tuxedo. Clementine had Shaped me into a humantaur for the evening, like my body now, four gorgeous long legs and a slender upper body. I was lithe and angular and just a bit androgynous. I wore a beautiful flowing seafoam gown on my front half and a matching skirt over my rear legs and my hair and tail were styled into cascading golden ringlets.” Halley smiles broadly and wags her tail, “It was my first time doing the four-legged body thing, actually. Kinda wild in hindsight.”

“Villah dox Quillah was fashionably late and made a grand entrance. She swept into the party lounging on a plush chaise lounge carried on a hovering stage. Her familiar face and body were squeezed into a beautiful black corset and her legs were covered by a shimmering silver sheet. She floated through the room waving, gathering everyone’s attention, as the music built to a huge fanfare. Her amplified voice thanked everyone for coming and then she dramatically yanked off the sheet to reveal her Shape to the entire party. There was an audible gasp! From the waist up Villah was a fancier version of her normal self, but from the waist down she had a second upper body! A man’s body! Instead of legs she had the torso, arms, and head of a gender-swapped male Villah dressed in a handsome white tuxedo. She looked like a playing card brought to life. Villah’s lower man-half looked around the room and smiled, said that he thought the reveal went rather well! The female-half tittered and agreed! Everyone was stunned, Villah had been Shaped into two conjoined people! It was unprecedented! Amazing! Of course, Clem and I knew it was an illusion: Villah only had one mind that was controlling both her halves, but that was still an incredible feat of Shaping. Even the sapients who caught the trick were super impressed.”

“Sounds like Villah got her sensation.”

“Totally!”

“How’d you manage that transformation?”

Halley smiles, “Not easily! It was a whole process. First, Clementine Shaped Villah back to her true baseline, mostly to get a feel for what it was, then she gave her body a quick glow up, made it classically beautiful with curves for days. Then she merged Villah’s legs and molded them into a big mass of flesh like a block of marble to be carved. Everyone rested for a couple days, and then Clem carefully Shaped the flesh blob into a perfect duplicate of Villah’s upper body: arms, tits, head, organs. This new body had a brain and was doing basic autonomic things like breathing, but didn’t have a mind. Villah basically had a braindead conjoined twin.” Halley smiles, “Then came the tricky part: Clementine had to somehow wire Villah’s mind into the new body. Normally the human body can naturally pick up Shaped additions like limbs, but the second brain was too strange to just magically integrate. We talked about a few options, like maybe implanting cybernetics and just puppeting the thing, but we ultimately decided to try an organic solution. Connecting up the nervous systems of the two bodies was straightforward for Clem, but making Villah able to actually comprehend having two heads was a problem. We ended up consulting psychics to build a mental subroutine in Villah’s mind to parse all the new sensory information and let her experience and control her second body.” Halley-4 rolls her eyes, “We ended up having to use three independent psychics for the job too! Just to make sure none of them were tampering with her mind. We let Villah acclimatize to her queen-of-hearts style double body for a few days, and then Clementine gender swapped her original body into a male version of Villah. At that point we’d done what we had agreed to, but Villah was unhappy with her lack of genitals, so Clem did some clever manipulations to make her outwardly ordinary mouths behave like sexy bits. Her mouths and lips felt like pussies and her tongues could swell up and be cocks. Villah’s Shape was an absolute masterpiece.”

“And was this the start of a beautiful friendship?”

“Yeah, for a while at least. Villah decided to make herself patron of the Changelings and kept throwing parties. She hosted a night in Earthling Hell where she became a giant demon king, while I was a sultry succubus for the evening. Villah held a hippie love-in where all the guests were Changeling nudists for the night. She held a Westminster dog show where Villah and her friends were all shaped to be four-legged dog-girls. I was a Dalmatian and was runner up, since obviously French Poodle Villah won Best in Show. Villah held a safari, an Earthling Halloween, a Christmas Party, and a gladiatorial contest where she rented out the fucking Arena. So many different parties! They always had an Earthling theme and Villah always had a brand new Shape by Clementine. And not just her, Clem was booked solid Shaping all of Villah’s closest friends and guests and whoever else could edge into a session. The ‘Tine, She is a Changeling had more business than we could handle! We were turning people away!”

“Sounds fun.”

“It was so much fun! Clem and I were suddenly two of the most sought after humans on Flotsam! We were wined and dined and invited to all the best parties. I finally knew what it was like to be popular!” Halley-4 tugs on her hair, “I started to spend more time with Villah and her friends, becoming another part of the entourage. I started to change my Shape a lot, and not just for the parties. I stopped seeing Parsaffony and Dog-boy and the other Changelings as much and spent less time with Clem. I was drinking more, and trying more drugs, and when the orgies started to happen, I convinced Clem that we should join in.” Halley sighs, “I was getting carried away with it. I felt so sexy in all my different bodies and everyone was so beautiful and available and nice… I wanted to dive in. At the time I thought Clem felt the same way, but in hindsight I think she was maybe playing along to make me happy. I was letting it all go to my head.”

“Uh oh.” I smell trouble.

“Yes, but not quite yet. Things were really good for a while. Business was booming, Clem and I were in love, and we partied all the time with our fancy new friends. I never thought it would end. And I think neither did Clem.” Halley pauses and takes a breath, “One night, we’d been at one of Villah’s parties and were both still a little high on Bliss. I was wearing my old hermaphorite Shape with my six tits and my big cock. I remember feeling so good, so adventurous, and wanted Clem to feel the same way. We had fallen into bed together and Clem had laughed and  licked her lips and started to suck me off. It felt amazing and I closed my eyes, floating in the pleasure of a good blowjob. I let my mind wander and fantasized about all the different women I’d been with that year, and all their exotic Shapes. I opened my eyes and looked at Clementine and boggled at how relatively ordinary she was. Here was this incredible all-powerful Shaper, and sure she had the three most perfect tits in the universe, but she was otherwise so physically ordinary. A gawky thin brunette, still almost boyish. I giggled as this wild idea formed in my mind. Clem, I’d gasped, is this your dream body? She stopped sucking my cock and looked up. She giggled: like, what do you mean? She maybe looked a little guilty, like I’d caught her somehow. You could look like anyone, like anything. Is this, like, truly the body you want to live with for the rest of your life? She snorted like it was a joke: like, seriously? Yes, I said, fighting off the Bliss, like, seriously. You should like totally become your fantasy self! Clementine frowned thoughtfully, I could see her do some mental math, and she fondled her three breasts and blushed. Like, okay, she said and straddled me. She pushed my cock inside her and started to slowly rock her hips. I sat up and started to play with her outer tits and suck on her middle nipple, not sure where this was going. She moaned and ran her fingers through her hair and I gasped as it turned from brown to silver. Yes! Beautiful! Clem’s eyes were wide and she smiled and giggled. She pulled her ears into elfin points and rubbed her hands over her face which went from plain to gorgeous with high cheekbones and a sculpted nose and plump lips. I gasped at her sudden beauty and she grinned. Her face pinched in a frown and I watched as curved goat horns pushed out of her skull and curled backwards. I grabbed them and pulled her in for a deep kiss, and she pushed her body against me. My cock was so hard inside her. She pulled back rolled her hips and ran her hands over her arms and stomach. I watched her limbs and belly become perfectly toned, new muscles growing under a sheath of soft feminine fat. Clem gasped and shuddered and I clutched her ass, felt it swell in my grip, her thighs and butt becoming a perfect blend of soft and hard, her hips growing broader. Clem arched her back and rested her hands on her tailbone, her three perfect tits pushed out, and she slowly, almost seductively, pulled a long sinuous tail from her spine. It was as long as her legs and as thick as an arm and it was covered in her velvet soft skin. The tail lashed the air uncertainly and then pressed itself against my cunt, making me gasp. Clem thrust herself against me and grimaced as her legs made a cracking sound. I leaned forward and watched as her feet stretched out and became cloven hooves, and her legs bent oddly, adapting to a new posture. Clem started to fuck me harder, faster, and I thrust back against her. She laughed and panted and gasped, and kept touching her body, tweaking herself slightly here or there, somehow becoming even more beautiful. I gasped, shocked at this perfect vision of a woman, this goddess, smiling and moaning, impaled on my cock. I could hardly hold back! I thrust my hips and growled, and Clementine rode me, squeezing her tits and letting out these pretty little grunts. My heart thundered in my chest and I felt my self-control buckle and break, and I clutched Clementine against me and came, cock erupting and she shrieked and clawed at me, body writhing as she orgasmed. I collapsed back panting and Clementine climbed off me. She stood confidently on her hooves and trotted over to the mirror, her body moving like poetry. She touched her cheek and studied her body, a look of wonder on her gorgeous new face. She had tears in her eyes and the prettiest smile in the world. She was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. She looked at me and purred: This is who I am, this is me. I’m finally perfect.”

“Fuck, she really is.” I sigh.

“As I sobered up I worried that Clementine might have regrets, that maybe this was a huge mistake. Clem was super happy though, so satisfied with her gorgeous new body, and possessed of this new confidence, like a flower that bloomed. She seemed content with herself, maybe for the first time.” Halley grins, “I think she’d thought about her ideal body before that night, maybe during all those hours of Shaping, and had already designed it in her mind. But she was too, I don’t know, hesitant? Embarrassed? Humble? Or maybe it was she didn’t want to fully surrender her masculinity? She didn’t let herself go for it.” Halley-4 shrugs, “Maybe it was me giving her permission or being high enough to lose her inhibitions, but I think she finally did something she’d wanted for a while. She realized a dream that night, and being there was one of the best moments of my life.”

“I bet.”

“Of course not all good things last.” Halley sighs, “Remember when I first Clone-appeared, how I thought this was all a hallucination?”

I nod.

“Well, those feelings never disappeared, but they receded into the background for a while. I started to accept that this was my insane new life: I was Halley-4 of Flotsam and I had a goddess for a girlfriend and a giga-gillionaire heiress friend.” She shakes her head, “Except that feeling of unreality started coming back. With a vengeance. All of the partying and drinking and drugs and orgies; everything was happening too fast. Things were starting to feel like a fever dream. And then I started to change my Shape almost everyday, trying to stay fashionable and show off, trying to advertise. But that just made the feelings worse: I was untethered, always being someone or something new. I felt adrift and artificial, more like a fantasy than a woman. I was losing myself.”

She grimaces, “I feel like there should have been some obvious breaking point: a giant fight with Clem about my partying, or a grand falling out with Villah, or bumping into Parsaffony on the street and having her not recognize me, or maybe an intervention staged by my Changeling friends. Instead I just had this moment of clarity where it clicked for me. I woke up in an unfamiliar bed and no real idea of how I got there. I’d been out partying the night before, but the night was hazy, a blur of sex and drugs. My head hurt and my mouth was dry and I could tell I’d had sex, lots of sex the night before.” Halley-4 rubs her face with her hands, “I didn’t know how I got there, or who I’d slept with, or where I was. I didn’t know where Clementine was. I didn’t even know what Shape I was wearing. My body was a mystery below the sheets and I didn’t know if I could even walk, crawl, or slither home. This wasn’t the first time this happened to me, but for once I felt the full reality of it. This was my life and I was fucking it up. I had to sort my shit out before I hit a real rock bottom. Before I fucked up badly and hurt myself. Before I hurt someone else.”

“That night I asked Clementine to return my body to baseline; not my sexy six-breasted herm standard, but my original Halley-clone factory default. I was shocked at just how odd my original body felt, which really cemented it for me. I needed to step away from the parties and the Changelings and Shaping and Clem. I needed to figure out who the fuck I was and I needed space to do it. I couldn’t be a good partner to Clem, in business or romantically, until I put myself back together.” Halley frowns, “I told Clem all this: about my fears and my unhealthy thoughts and my failing mental health. I told Clem I loved her but that I needed to go away for a while to figure myself out. Clem had tears in her eyes, I could tell she was hurt, but she hugged me and told me she was so proud of me. She gave me a big pot of money, my share from The ‘Tine, and promised to do anything she could to help. And then I walked away from the love of my life and started over.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “That must have been so hard.”

Halley nods, “The hardest.”

“So what did you do?”

“The business of building a new life. I had money, so I was able to find a nice little apartment and get by, but I needed something to do. I avoided any bars or clubs like a recovering addict, but waited tables at some tea shops for a while, just to be around sapients. I also started to walk a lot and explore the city. It’s funny how much moving is good for anxiety, just putting one foot in front of the other, you burn off that nervous energy and create a momentum for yourself. And it’s a great way to be invisible, no one really notices a walker. I wish instead of bottling ourselves up in that trailer on Earth we had discovered walking.” Halley-4 smiles, “Anyway, I was out for one of my walks when I bumped into one of Villah’s friends, a rich party girl named Exalted-Starscape. She was wearing this absurd Shape where her entire torso, front and back, was covered in huge tits. Like two-dozen of them. She could hardly walk and was only wearing rainbow tights and a stupid fashionable hat. She looked pretty upset and lost, so despite wanting nothing to do with Villah’s circus, I offered to help her. She sort of recognized me from the Changeling parties, but was also getting pretty desperate. Exalted was given seven sealed envelopes to deliver by her rich business uncle and had no idea how to find the recipients. Since I’d become something of a city explorer I was able to guide my boob-berry acquaintance to all her deliveries. She was so happy and insisted on getting my Contact info to keep in touch.”

“I thought that would be that, just a little good deed, but Exalted messaged me a few days later asking if I could deliver another letter for her. I was going for a walk and thought sure whatever, so I picked up her letter and dropped it off at a Terraces Mansion. Another good deed, but the male recipient thought I was courier and gave me this really generous tip.” Halley smiles wryly, “A thing about rich folks is they send each other hand delivered letters. It’s a privacy thing: anything networked or drone delivered can be intercepted and snooped on. A handwritten letter delivered by a trusted courier is way more secure, especially if it’s coded too. Well, before I knew it, my good deeds had turned into a business running secret missives for rich folks.”

“I had my little home and a steady hustle. I made up with Parsaffony and got my best friend back. And I kept my head down and stayed away from trouble.” Halley snaps her fingers, “Villah dox Quilla got summoned back to the family pantheon and left Flotsam. Without her patronage the The Changeling scene rapidly collapsed. The entire trend had been propped up by Villah’s fortune and fame, and without her throwing cool parties, most Sapients quickly found new pursuits. The only Changelings left were the originals, the diehards like Saff and Dog-boy.” Halley-4 shakes her head, “The departure of Villah also caused a mass exodus of the young rich and took a big bite out of my private letter enterprise. But by then I had confidential packet contracts with real businesses and launched my first delivery drones. I actually had so much work that I had to hire employees! Like Dog-boy and Tillzy.“ Halley grins, “Things kept growing and growing and now I own one of the biggest delivery companies on the planet. It’s called: Pony Express.”

“Fuck! You own Pony Express!”

Halley is very pleased, “So you’ve heard of it.”

“I fucking knew that centauress logo looked too much like me!”

Halley laughs, “You know I wore that centaur Shape once as a promotional gag.” Halley bites her lip, “Horrible idea: weighing a ton and walking on four hooves in a city made of stairs and ladders was idiotic! And I was so hungry all the time.” She blushes and whisks her tail, “And Clem never quite figured out the plumbing…”

“Speaking of, what about you and Clem? What happened there?”

“I took too long. By the time I felt good enough about my life to go back to her, she’d moved on to Halley-5.” Halley grimaces, “Which was a real kick in the cunt.”

“I’m sorry.” But not that sorry.

“Yes, well, it all worked out.” Halley tugs on her ponytail, “I focused on my work and friends, dated a little, well maybe a lot actually, and eventually met Kline.” She taps her Keyband and a hologram of a smiling Halley-4 and a rather pretty man appears. He has delicate features but dark stubble on his cheeks and short, shaggy black hair. He’s cute. “Kline’s a spacecraft mechanic and works on the same crew as Steadfast Freya. He’s kind and funny, and smart in a lowkey kind of way. Clever.” She grins, “And very good with his hands.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is,” Halley beams, “I’m so in love! We agreed to marry, and are cohabitating for the prescribed period.” Halley tolls her eyes, “His parents are old school practitioners of rationalist life philosophy. Kline is much more relaxed about it, but in-laws, y’know? And honestly some of their ideas about conflict resolution are pretty helpful and…” She grins, “Sorry.”

“I’m happy for you.” I look at this successful version of me and I am indeed happy for her. It’s nice to see one of us make it. “Why are you a quadruped?”

“Oh this?” Halley-4 gracefully unfolds herself back up to her four feet and does a resplendent dressage pose.”I found baseline life too boring and wanted a more interesting Shape. After you’ve had as many bodies as me, two arms and two legs is too drab, so I paid Clementine for an upgrade.” She whisked her tail, “I felt my old six-breasted herm body was too tied up in the past, and doing something a bit equestrian felt on brand so: humantaur.” She smiles, “I only meant for it to be a temporary thing, but it grew on me and I think it might be my forever Shape. I guess I’ll always be a Changeling.”

My eye’s pinch in a smile, “It suits you.” Even if her body would look way better without arms.

“Thank you,” Halley-4 says, stretching out her legs. “Now back to my thesis: figure out what you want from life and get it. I built my life, mine, Halley’s, and it’s great.” She makes an emphasis fist, “You. Deserve. That. Too.”

“But…”

“Let me finish,” Halley holds up a finger and stamps a foreleg. “You don’t owe Hallley-Prime anything, she’s our template not our mother. Just because she took out a glitchy dumbass insurance policy doesn’t mean you have to devote your life to finding her.” She shakes her head, “For all we know she’s dead or got abducted again, or flew herself back to Earth without telling anyone, or donned the Red Robe and embraced anonymity, or got herself assimilated into the Ürnaut collective, or who the fuck even cares! It doesn’t make a difference. You’re here, and chasing Prime never made anyone happier.”

I frown at Halley and wish I was standing up so I could stomp around too. “Did you know I learned that Halley-Prime wasn‘t even human? That all of us Halley clones are aliens.”

“Huh.” Halley-4 blinks, “That’s interesting.”

“Isn’t that worth knowing? Don’t you want to know what we are? Why we were on Earth? Who wanted to abduct us?”

Halley inclines her head, “I do. But not enough to blow up my life or watch more of our sisters hurt themselves.” She sighs, “Look, it’s your life, but it’s also your life, and you should consider what you want to do with it. Chase a ghost if you must, but consider the friends and life you could have here too.” Halley-4 turns to go. “Clementine’s a wonderful woman.”

“Wait? Where are you going?”

“I have a life to get back to. Kline is back from orbit today and I have a romantic dinner to make.” She smiles at me over her shoulder and lifts her tail, “And this Halley has two very horny cunts that miss their man.”

“Oh, okay. Nice to meet you?”

“Take care of yourself Halley-24.”

***

To be continued

Chapter 31: Paper Lanterns: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … 96c9bda4a0

Flotsam
Chapter 31: Paper Lanterns

I’m on my back and Clementine’s cock is in my face pussy and I’m doing my best to fuck it and suck on it and do whatever other mouth things I still can, but I’m also sort of just laying here getting fucked because I’m totally distracted by Clem’s lips wrapped around my own cock as she blows me. Why can’t I ever do two things at once? I need to multitask! Sixty-nining is so much harder than fucking… I gasp and feel an orgasm roll through my face, which is enough to push my cock over the edge. I grunt and thrust my hips and ejaculate into Clem’s mouth. Clem makes a surprised sound, but manages to slurp and swallow my torrent of cum. Clementine spits out my penis and fucks me in the face harder, and faster, focused and eager to cum. My head bounces on the mattress and I moan and orgasm again, and then Clem let’s out a little shriek and her cock erupts into my mouthpussy, boiling cum shooting down my throat, making me shudder and orgasm one last time.

Clementine sighs and flops down next to me. I turn my head and her softening cock is still trapped in my cunt. Breathing heavily through the slits behind my ears, I stare at my lover’s crotch and feel happy. Really happy. Clementine is everything I loved about Clem but in a more confident, sexier package. She’s reliable and kind and funny, but assertive and, to borrow a therapyTM word, actualized. She’s Clem refined, a finished product. And she fucks like the devil herself. So why the fuck am I thinking of leaving?

I should count my blessings that this goddess is willing to waste her time on an armless, cunt-faced dweeb and enjoy this. Follow Halley-4’s good (but condescending) advice to live, laugh, love right here on Flotsam. Build a life with Clem and Bluebell and whoever else I want. Be my best kinky self. And yet…

Pussy knows where Halley-Prime went missing.

I know where Halley-Prime went missing.

I frown and Clem’s soft penis falls out of my mouthpussy. Why do I want to know what happened to Prime so badly? I’m glad I exist, but I don’t really feel any special obligation to her. She might as well be a stranger or a ghost. I guess it would be nice to have closure: for her, for myself, for all the other Halleys, and Clem too. But would it actually make me happier? Somehow I don’t think so. Is it the mystery? Do I only want answers just to solve the puzzle? Is this all an unhealthy urge to satisfy my own gnawing curiosity? Is finding answers really worth blowing up my life?

I turn my head and look at the ceiling, the first thing I saw with my freshly cloned eyes. Why does it have to be me that goes? I found out Halley-Prime was an alien and that she was the abduction target. I learned from Pussy where Prime went missing. Shouldn’t that be enough? Didn’t I do my part? I could pass on my hot tip to Gan Ceann and make it her problem. I could hand off the baton to the next Halley clone. Let someone else finish the story. But… but I want to do it. I want to solve the mystery.

Fuck me.

I kick my legs and try to sit up, which remains just idiotically difficult without arms. Grasping, writing, lifting, high fives, sure. Makes perfect sense. But lifting yourself off your back without a whole gymnastic production? Why is that such an arm intensive activity? It’s bad design. Totally unfair. Clementine notices me flailing, grabs me by the shoulder, and pushes me up until I’m able to get myself situated. I cross my legs. “Thank you,” I say, my face burning with a blush.

“Of course,” Clem says with a smile. She brushes my hair behind my shoulders and wipes off the cum draining onto my face. “What’s up?”

I sigh, “You know I’m happy, right?”

Clem smiles, “I have some idea.” She dabs a little more semen off my chin.

“Like, really happy?”

“I’m happy too.” She quirks a perfect eyebrow, “What’s up?”

“I want you to know that I love being with you and want to explore whatever this is. Lovers? Dating? A relationship?”

Clem laughs, “We’re having the talk?”

“No! Well, maybe. Yes?” I frown, “I guess we are.”

Clem smiles, “I love being with you too, and I’m open to fooling around or dating for real.” She runs her fingers through her hair, “You should know I’m not really into monogamy anymore. I don’t have any like, life partners right now, but I do have some romantic friends and lovers. And also Pussy.”

I nod, I figured this wasn’t going to be exclusive. And anyway I have… whatever I have with Bluebell and I’m not willing to give that up either. Romantic friendship? That’s probably a good name for it. “I want to be with Bluebell too,” I blush, “and others.” Like HAL-E and maybe Halley-16 in the Sexbox.

Clementine smiles, “That’s fine.” She leans in and kisses me on my facial labia. “Then I guess that officially makes me your girlfriend.”

I feel butterflies in my stomach and not just because someone kissed my pussy. “Awesome!” My eyes pinch in a big smile and then I remember the real point of the conversation. I sigh, “But…”

“Twist.”

“Remember when I said I'm so happy with you? It’s important you know how true that is!”

“Okay,” Clem says with a curious frown. “Because?”

“Because I learned where Halley-Prime was when she went missing.”

“Oh, shit.” Clem blinks her eyes, “How?”

“She kept a secret diary, a paper one. Someone read it and told me what she was planning in her final entry.”

“Wild! Can I see it?”

“Nnnooo…” I shouldn’t rat out the cat. “My, um, contact destroyed it. I’m getting my info second hand?”

“When did you learn this? You’ve been hiding out here since…” Clem’s eyes go wide. “Pussy! Fucking cat!”

“I know but! She was doing it to protect you!” I can’t believe I’m saying this: “Please don’t be mad at her.”

Clem takes a deep breath and grips her horns tightly. She blows out the air like a bull and smiles ruefully, “Catgirls…”

Then she looks at me: “You want to go after her?”

“Yes, I think I do.” I take a deep breath, “But I feel like I’m abandoning you just when…”

Clem touches my shoulder, “Halley, it’s okay.”

“It is?”

“Of course, if this is something you need to do, then I’m on board.” She rubs the smooth contours of my armless body. “I’ve known a lot of Halleys in my life and been with more than a few of them. You are all bright, funny, stubborn, quietly driven, and deeply curious, maybe too curious for your own good. I love that about my Halleys, about you. I’d never change it, even if I could.” She smiles, “So go be intrepid, but try to stay out of trouble. I want you to come back to me in one sexy piece.”

Tears sting my eyes and I dump my body into Clem’s waiting arms. Fuck, what did I do to deserve this person? “Of course,” I gasp into her chest, “I owe you answers don’t I?”

Clementine strokes my hair and back. “Where did Halley-Prime go missing?”

“Somewhere called Quarantine Zone 7.”

“Hmm…” Clem gently pushes me out of her arms and pokes at her Keyband. A holographic map of Flotsam appears in the air next to the bed. I shuffle on my knees to get a better look. There’s the Mesa City, the Spaceport, and the endless scrap heaps of the Junk Desert. “Quarantine Zone 7,” Clem says and the map zooms out, way out, to show a red highlighted area a few hundred miles from Flotsam City.

“Shit,” I say. “That’s far.”

“Yeah…” Clem agrees.

“How am I going to get my armless ass all the way there?”

Clem taps her chin, “I bet we could get you onto a Salvager outfit which gets you most of the way there... I can talk to Hank and see if he knows anyone trustworthy going that way.”

“Okay.”

Clem gives me a look, “And I can Shape you some new limbs…”

“Ugh don’t start.”

“Halley…”

“Yeah, I know I can’t go on a big dangerous adventure without arms. But let me think about it, okay?” There has to be something that doesn’t involve disgusting hands or tentacles. Could I get a trained space monkey? “I’ll work something out.” I sigh, “But first I need to talk to Bluebell about this. I owe her an explanation too.”

***

I stumble on a loose stone and try to throw out my arms for balance, but I don’t have any arms, so instead I do a running dance and just barely manage to stay upright. Fuck, that was close! Almost a one way trip to faceplant city. I sag against a wall and take a few deep breaths to calm down.

It’s my first time outside with my new body configuration and it’s a lot. I’m wearing good walking boots, tights, and a cute blue polkadot dress that has a high neck but leaves my limbless shoulders deliciously bare. I have a matching polkadot facemask covering my pussymouth and so far it hasn’t slipped (but what will I do if it does?) and I’m sporting my new pixie hairdo, a practical choice for the journey ahead. I think I look really cute, but I’m obviously not normal. Sure my pussy face is more drastic than my armlessness, or at least more vulgar, but I can hide that behind a mask. I look like a germaphobe or someone with a shit immune system, but not a freak. Now I’m publicly flaunting my difference like a Changeling, which is coming with a certain amount of very mixed attention. Disapproving stares, curious stares, and occasional leers. I feel embarrassed and shy and exposed… and more than a little turned on. I’m a kinky helpless girly and everyone knows it, and it’s smashing a subby exhibitionist button that says ohhhh yessss…But, cool it Halley, you need to focus or you’re going to pitch a tent and drool right through your mask.

And probably trip down a flight of stairs.

I sigh and carefully start walking. The other thing about being armless out in the wide world is how different everything feels. My balance is strange without the motion and weight of my awful arms; I have to push my chest out more and I’m so aware of the sway of my hips. I have to be super intentional with every footfall since I have nothing to catch myself with if I trip, and I can’t use handholds in tricky spots. I feel vulnerable too. I can’t fend off another sapient, or at least not easily, so I’m being too vigilant about everyone around me. And if something happens and I need help? Well, my keyband is strapped to my ankle where it will do me a ton of good. I mean, I can’t even pick anything up or manually open a door. This is crazy! Flotsam without arms seems so much bigger and more challenging, and it makes me feel helpless in a scary, unsexy way too.

But fuck, if I can’t walk from Clem’s apartment to Bluebell’s house without help, how am I ever going to explore something called a Quarantine Zone!?

Okay, Halley, you got this. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Carefully…

***

I squirm and moan as another orgasm explodes in my face. “Fuck,” I gasp as Bluebell pulls the food tongs out of my oral cunt. The savory falafel like ball slides down my pussy-throat into my gizard-thing. My cock is rock hard under the table. Jesus, getting fed is amazing! Bluebell smiles at me and brandishes the sex-slick tongs, “Do you desire Mmmoore?”

I blush, “That’s a loaded question.” But I’m already stuffed and anyway we have something to talk about.  “I better not.”

Bluebell holds the wet tongs up to her nose and gives them a long sniff. “This one never thought feeding an invalid would be so stimulating.” Nictitating membranes swish over her large black eyes. “This one finds she enjoys your helplessness.”

I blush and fidget, getting fed like this is really sexy for me too. I shimmy my blunt shoulders, “I always took you for the nurturing type.”

“Moo,” Bluebell says, her ropey tail flicking. “You will not be claiming this when it is time to discipline you.”

My cock twitches “Promises…”

I take a deep breath, “But, um, we need to talk.”

“This one is, what is the saying? All ears.”

I look at my wonderful alien lover. She is a beautiful combination of Blue alien and curvaceous cowgirl. She has the big black eyes of her species and wide nostrils, but generous lips and bovine horns and ears. She’s very tall by human standards, but also curvy with four huge breasts and a cow udder hanging from her belly. She has a cow’s ropey tail and hooves feet and her skin is a pale blue covered in midnight blue blotches, like an azure holstein. She is beautiful and kind and smart and maybe the most patient sentient I’ve ever met. I love her dearly. “Oh Jesus, how do I say this? I love being with you, as your friend and lover and business partner. I want to stay with you forever and make this ridiculous dairy thing work. But…” I scrunch my toes, “I learned some things about myself, about Halley-Prime. She was abducted because she wasn’t human, not deep down. It was some sort of disguise.” I shake my head, “I’m not human either.”

Bluebell licks her lips, “This one always recognized you were exotic.”

I blush and flex my truncated shoulders. “Thanks, but I also learned where Halley-Prime went missing. She thought she found something way out in the Junk Desert and went looking for it.” I force myself to look Bluebell in the eyes, “I want to go there and see what I can learn; about what happened to her and about what I really am. But it’s not fair to do this to you…”

Bluebell moos and touches me, “You should go.”

“But I’ve already put myself in so much stupid danger…” I shake my head, “You deserve better.”

“This one has invested her life chasing an insane fantasy. If you were to ask any well-adjusted Blue, they would inform you that this one is a pervert. A Deviant.” Bluebell’s membranes blink, “This one has risked so much and been deemed an outcast, all in the pursuit of her truest self. And yet she persevered and has found true joy and delight. And love.” Bluebell spreads her long fingered hands, “It would be the utmost hypocrisy for this one to deny you a journey of self-discovery. If an expedition into the Junk Desert helps you become your fullest self than you must do it.” Bluebell licks her lips and says… something? She sounds strange, like a foreigner and a dog and a bird muddled together.

“Sorry what?” I blink.

Bluebell repeats herself but slower and did she just say I love you? Why does it sound so weird? Is she trying to speak English!? Oh my god!

“Did you just say I love you?” That’s amazing!

“Yes. Did I pronounce it correctly?”

And for the second time that day I fling myself at a lover I do not at all deserve. “I love you too!”

Bluebell wraps her strong arms around me and crushes my body to the soft warmth of her bosom. I blink at the sting of tears in my eyes, “You learned English just for me?”

“Moo.”

“You’re much to good for me! I don’t deserve you.”

“The notion that you need to deserve my affection is fallacious. I care deeply for you and that is enough.”

“But I’m such a reckless idiot! I don’t want to make you worry.”

“Worrying for someone you care for is a joy.” Bluebell tips her head, “But do strive to be safe.”

“I will.”

“There is a matter we need to discuss, however.”

I sit up and blink at Bluebell in confusion. “Sorry?”

Bluebell rests her hand on my still erect cock. “You have a penis now.”

“Uh, surprise?”

Bluebell’s hand slides under my clothes and firmly grasps my cock. “You will come and fuck me with it! Immediately!”

Bluebell stands and drags me by my cock and I’m forced to stumble along behind her as she leads me straight up to her bedroom.

***

I’m laying on my back in Bluebell’s bed and I’m absolutely knackered. Bluebell made me fuck her brains out over and over and now I feel like I went running with the bulls. My cock is actually sore! “Moo,” I say breathlessly.

“Howdy!”

“Fuck!” I startle and try to sit up and fail. Bluebell is out on a medical call and I’m supposed to be alone. “Who’s there!?”

“Shit sorry,” A silver sphere floats above me and becomes a hovering HAL-E hologram. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I flop back and relax, although my heart is still racing. “Hi, you maniac, you assassin.”

HAL-E floats above me, her spritely body weightlessly suspended over me like a glowing reflection. “I said I was sorry.” She rests her chin on her hand as if gravity was oriented in another direction. “And besides I brought a gift.”

“A gift?”

The hologram nods, “I solved your lack of arms problem.”

I sigh, “I’m completely happy without arms and wish everyone would just let me do my thing.”

HAL-E blinks out of sight and reappears standing next to the bed. “Sit up.”

I groan and roll myself over, having to kick a leg over and heave to get onto my front. Then I use my face to push myself onto my knees and strain my abdominals to crane my body up to a kneeling position. I awkwardly unwedge my legs so my bum is seated on the bed. “There.”

HAL-E has her arms crossed and gives me a skeptical look. “You think that’s going to cut it for an expedition?”

I blush, “I’m still working out the details.”

“As entertaining as it would be to watch you try and wingless this, I put a lot of effort into my gift. So could you please at least hear me out?”

“I guess you did rescue my ass. Again.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So what’s your solution?”

“Well, I know you don’t want any arms, hands, tentacles, or extra limbs, so I tried to come up with a non-physical body modification that would help.” HAL-E taps her forehead, “This was… not simple. I actually had to focus, close down all my instances, and run my entire consciousness on a single task. Which, woah, I have some processing horsepower. It still wasn’t enough: I’m still too human for the level of complexity I was after.” HAL-E smiles, “But it seems you made an impression on the Artist during your visit to his gallery. He… intervened and gave me what I needed to finish my project. So without further ado: ta-dah!”

The Grey drone grows a blister that becomes a tiny quicksilver marble. It floats toward me and stops a few inches from my face. I can see my reflection distorted on the surface. I shiver and think of the Grey Artist and the yawning endless intensity of our brief connection. “What will it do?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then let me show you.” And the silver marble touches my forehead and flows into me. I gasp as I feel something like cold spiderwebs weave through my skull and entangle with my mind. “Jesus!”

The strange sensation dies away and I blink my eyes, confused. Something is different, but I can’t quite put a toe on it. I don’t seem to be physically altered and I don’t like, suddenly have new arms. But I can feel the room around me? I can somehow sense all of the objects in a six foot radius: my discarded clothes, the Grey drone, the lamp and side-tables, the bedspread, pillows, the contents of Bluebell’s drawers (keepsakes, a sleep mask, sex toys, an old tablet, a cowbell necklace from Clementine, a love poem from Aggronotham, medication), a dildo fallen under the bed, a glass sculpture, midnight snack crumbs. It’s not sight and not really touch, just a knowledge of where everything is and its spatial relationship to me. I realize I’ve felt this before, second hand from Halley-7 when she shared her giant cock memories with me. “What is this?”

“A kind of extended proprioception,” HAL-E says. “It’s like how you know where your hand, or well, foot is compared to the rest of your body, even if you close your eyes, but for everything around you too.”

“Okay?”

“Here,” HAL-E says and the Grey drone becomes inert and falls to the ground with a metallic crack and starts to roll slowly across the floor. “Can you sense it?”

I close my eyes and focus, and I know exactly where the drone is. “Yeah.”

“Good, now concentrate and think about lifting it.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay Nike…” But I listen to my instructions and imagine grabbing the rolling sphere and… it stops? It’s suddenly stationary! Did I do that? With my mind? The place where the quicksilver marble touched my forehead radiates heat and cold. I frown and suck on my labia, can I actually do this? I take a deep breath and will the drone to lift off the floor. In my new senses the inert drone hesitantly floats off the floor, wavering slightly. I imagine lifting it to head height and open my eyes… “Holy shit!” The drone is aloft, right where I wanted it to be! “Fuck!”

My concentration slips and the drone drops back to the floor with a bang. “Geez, careful,” HAL-E admonishes playfully.

“What the fuck!?”

“I gave you telekinetic powers!”

“No way!” I don’t believe it! “This has to be a trick! The drone was just flying itself!”

HAL-E laughs, “Try it on something else then.”

I search the room with my new stuff-sense and grab onto the dildo under the bed. I imagine it lifting off the floor and floating into the air. I keep my eyes open this time and watch the dildo hesitantly hover into view. It’s made of translucent blue rubber and is girthy with a slightly inhuman shape. I blush, probably a Blue penis. I concentrate and make the dildo rotate slowly, and then faster, then I make it spin end over end like a baton. Holy shit! This is so cool! I push the dildo through the air, making it swoop like an obscene rocketship, do a loop-the-loop, and crash through HAL-E’s holographic mouth. “Rude,” she says with a big smile.

I park the dildo in hover and do my pussy-faced version of a smile, “Thank you!” This totally solves my appendage problem without adding any new limbs! I can interact with the world and look after myself, be independent if I need to. I can keep working with Bluebell on our dairy business. I can actually go on my adventure now! But… part of me enjoys feeling like a helpless sexy decoration. What’s the point of being armless if I can just shoot mind bullets at every problem? Can I even be helpless now? I could always tie up my disgusting arms during sex, but can I turn this new thing off? I know I need this, and it’s super cool, and I feel like an ungrateful shithead, but maybe this solution is too good? Is there something less effective I could try? Maybe I should’ve gone with the tail. “It’s really great.”

HAL-E looks at me like she can tell what I’m thinking. “But you like feeling helpless, right?”

I blush, “Maybe…” Ungrateful shithead.

HAL-E grins and the Grey drone lifts itself off the floor and melts into a phallic shape. The silvery cock floats towards me and starts vibrating. “Say ahh.”

“What?”

And then the drone-cock is squeezing itself into my face cunt. I gasp as I’m penetrated by a vibrator. “Focus,” HAL-E commands, “Don’t drop the dildo.”

I moan and try to follow her instructions, clutching the dildo with my mental grip. Pleasure radiates through my face and my new spatial senses feel blurry, fuzzy. The dildo drops a few inches and my telekinesis is suddenly clumsy. “Ohhh,” I hiss as the vibe grinds against my clitoris. “Fuck.” My sense of the room starts to contract, narrowing rapidly, and the dildo smacks the floor as I drop it. I can’t sense anything around me or feel my mental grip. I’m helpless! I whimper as the vibrating cock continues to fuck my face. “Fu-fuck…”

“I added a feature,” HAL-E whispers, her voice husky. “Just for you.” I twist and groan as an orgasm explodes in my face. “Your new telekinetic powers don’t work when you’re aroused. The hornier you get, the more helpless you are, until you are just an armless sex toy.” I moan and shiver in pleasure. “Sex is your new kryptonite.”

“Jesus…”

“Pretty cool, right?”

“Shut up... and fuck me…”

***

I use my telekinesis to launch the ball and watch Sceolàn chase it, her tail tucked back and eight tits bouncing with every joyful four-legged stride. The secret-agent-slash-doggirl scampers across the The Grove quasi-grass intent on her rubber prey. I smile, Sceolàn is so much fun. Maybe I want a doggirl? Is a pet too much responsibility?

I look at the chrome Japanese fetish robot standing patiently next to me. The hyper-female robot is tall and sexy and covered with art deco spikes, antennas, and flourishes. She regards me silently with her black visor, her embossed false mouth permanently neutral. I know the fembot is piloted by Gan Ceann back in her mansion, here in disguise as Sceolàn’s robotic dog walker. “I guess you’re curious what I found out?”

The fembot inclines her head in a servile nod.

“Well, after I got captured, The Serpent was all too happy to tell me what was on the Memory Crystal. Apparently she didn’t really care who abducted us, since they covered their tracks, but was more interested in how they found us.”

The fembot regards me inscrutably. How is Gan Ceann’s headless body more expressive?

“Our abductors had a special device designed to find a specific non-human alien lifesign. Halley-Prime’s alien lifesign.” I pause for effect, “We’re not really human.”

The fembot freezes like it’s lost connection, but then inclines her head in another bowing nod. Sceolàn comes charging back and spits out the ball. She sits on her haunches and looks up at me, her human dog hybrid face glowing with idiotic glee. She paws impatiently at the ground and her tail thumps away. Totally dog-brained. She opens her mouth and barks. I focus on the ball, lift it with my mind, and hurl it out into the park again. Sceolàn is already chasing it.

“She let me keep this.” I  concentrate and the magical ring of thievery floats out of my pocket and into the fembot’s waiting hand. The robot slips the ring onto a long chrome finger. “She wanted you to have it to independently confirm Halley-Prime’s extraterrestrial nature.”

Another fembot nod.

I consider telling Gan Ceann about what I learned from Pussy about Prime’s secret diary, about Quarantine Zone 7, and my upcoming journey. I know she’d find it interesting and probably try to help, but… I’m not sure I trust her. “You knew The Serpent was Halley-3, didn’t you?”

The chrome fembot pauses a beat and then gives me an elegant and noncommittal shrug.

She fucking knew! And didn’t tell me!

Well fuck her then.

Sceolàn bounds back to us and drops the ball. I reach out with my mind and ruffle her furry years, “You’re a good girl, Sceolàn! Such a good girl!” She barks and wags her tail. “And you,” I say to Gan Ceann’s fembot, “Are going to need to find a new patsy. I’m out.” I turn my back and walk away.

***

I keep walking, eager to put some distance between me and Gan Ceann, following a trail through some Grove tree-analogues that I know will eventually spit me out in the right direction. I breath the sweet syrupy air and feel a giddy calm wash over me, and a growing warmth in my sexy bits. I sigh happily, fuck walking for anxiety, nature is the real balm. Especially alien nature filled with aphrodisiac feel-good chemicals. If not for the brain-assimilating parasitic STD this place would be heaven.

I walk around a thicket of Grove-bushes and almost run into two nude Dryads having sex. I recognize Rylnx, curvy and green-skinned, with long green hair sprouting white flowers and vines, standing up with her cock being sucked by another outrageously curvy green woman on her knees. Who judging by the rattle of bead necklaces is Halley-22. “Ha-hi Halley…” Rylnx lifts a hand off the back of Halley’s head to wave.

Halley-22 exhales Rylnx’s emerald cock and looks up at me with a smile  (while Rylnx let’s out a frustrated little groan), “Halley!”

“Hi ladies.”

Halley blinks her green eyes at me, “You don’t have any arms.”

I blush and shift my weight from foot to foot, “I’m trying something new.”

“It looks sexy,” Rylnx says, her cock still rock hard.

“Thank you.”

Halley-22 starts crawling toward me, her enormous breasts swaying. “Do you want to fuck?”

“Oh, um, I kind of have somewhere to be?” Except I immediately picture the three of us together. Halley-22 on her back, generous thighs spread, me fucking her with my new cock while she eats out my face. Halley barely holding me up with her arms, our big breasts rubbing. Rylnx crouched over me, fucking my pussy from behind, scratching at my back with sharp bark-like nails, pulling at my short hair. I can feel both my pussies drool hungrily and my new cock strain against the confines of my tights. I do, I do want to fuck. “Okay, yeah, let’s do this…”

“Awesome,” Rylnx says, hands stroking her cock and teasing a nipple.

“I even have a surprise for you.” I reach out for my mind powers… and they’re already gone.

“…but I’ll need one of you to undress me.”

***

“You’re staring.”

Freya laughs, “Verily.”

I roll my eyes and insert the specially molded straw into my pussy and take a long slow drink of beer-stuff. I shiver as the cold drink slides down my oral vagina and throat. Brrrr.

Freya is still staring, and she isn’t the only one. Hank’s Hideaway is medium busy and I’m bare-faced because fuck it I’m thirsty. Which means my pussy is getting laser-like attention from Freya and more than a little curiosity from everyone else. I feel a prickle on my smooth shoulders and catch a cute guy quickly look away. It’s kind of embarrassing, but not as anxiety inducing as I thought it would be. I blush, it’s honestly kind of a turn on? I guess I’m turning into an exhibitionist slut? But get it together Halley, you’ve had enough sexy times today. “Are you just going to ogle me, or can we get down to business?”

Freya smiles and keeps staring, her head cradled in two hands while she grips her huge beer stein with the others. “I am in no great haste.”

“Freya….”

“Aye,” Freya says and reaches down next to her and lifts a large parcel onto the table. She opens the box and lifts out a garment like a ruggedized leotard. I focus with my mind and lift the garment into the air and let it unfurl. It’s a rust-colored jumpsuit made from a thick but clingy material with built in kneepads and armor panels. It has a long seam in the front, an integrated power supply on the back, and a built in hood. I’m happy to see it has my requested modifications: no sleeves and a fly on the crotch for my penis. I make the jumpsuit rotate and frown, “This looks like a real pain in the ass to put on.”

“Aye, but it is needed.” Freya says with a nod. “The Junk Desert can unleash fearsome heat and hellish cold; the suit is forged to fortify your body temperature. The Junk is also home to many hazards, from punctures to brigands, so donning a hardy mail is prudent.”

“Fair enough.” I carefully drape my hardy mail over a chair.

Freya pulls out a pair of chunky armored boots and slams them on the table. “These are girded to defend your feet.” She lifts a boot and shows me the sole, “There are retractable cleats and the soles may be magnetized for a stronger grip.”

“Metal.” I say, a little wistful I can’t throw horns.

Freya looks a little confused, “Aye, for treading upon steel hulks.”

I smile and shake my head, “Earthling figure of speech. It’s an aggressive genre of music, and means like, tough and cool.’

“Like hardcore? Or punk?”

“I guess?”

Freya nods sagely and I cannot wait for her to misuse Metal in a sentence. She goes back to the parcel and pulls out a pair of ski goggles and a bulky industrial filter mask. “The dust of the Junk Desert is dangerous to breath, and storms can be fearsomely abrasive. Ward your eyes and lungs whenever possible.”

I nod, “Keep the sharp dust out of my eyes and pussy, check.”

“One final thing,” Freya says, lifting up what looks like a blanket printed in a camouflage tarn of greys and rusty browns.

“What is it?”

“A poncho.”

“Why? To keep the dust off me?”

Freya shrugs and takes a drink of her beer, “And for the aesthetic.”

I do a run through my checklist: “Jumpsuit, metal boots, goggles, mask, poncho…”

“Would that I could give you a sidearm to wield,” Freya says with a frown. “Sending you out disarmed vexes me.”

I roll my abbreviated shoulders; disarmed in so many ways. “I don’t think I could handle a gun.” My new telekinesis is cool, but I’m still getting the hang of it. I’ve already almost spilled my beer like six times, and I’m terrified of trying to aim a deadly weapon. I lean forward and carefully suck more beer up my dildonic straw. “I’m more likely to blow off my toes than stop an attacker.”

Freya crosses all four of her arms and looks at me intently, “Aver to me that you shall flee and hide at the first sign of danger. You are brave enough, but no warrior. Discretion is not cowardice, and valor without forethought is foolhardy.” Freya rests a pair of her hands on my shoulders, “I expect you to return and regale me with tales of your quest.”

“And so you can keep staring at my cunt?”

“Aye,” Freya says, and runs her finger gently down the cleft of my pussy.

I close my eyes and shiver.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?”

I snap my eyes open and there is a smiling Hank. I blush and jerk upright, “No…Ah, hi?”

“Hi,” says my male clone and one-time lover, looking rather bashful.

“Please sit. Join us.”

Hank pulls up a chair from the next table and straddles it backwards; for some reason it reminds me of fucking him, which is still a bit awkward. He clears his throat, “Captain Frost runs a solid crew with a great reputation. I’ve met him a few times, but I crewed with Whiz and Burk in my Salvager days and they’re like family to me. If Freya were going on a journey into the Junk, I’d trust them with her life.”

Freya snorts, “Mayhaps you meant entrust me with their lives?”

“Right, of course.”

“Good.”

Hank gives me a wink, “Anyway, Frost’s crew is working a different stake, but they’ll pass through Faraway Haven, which is a town and resupply depot not too far from Quarantine Zone 7. They can get you that far and bring you back on a return trip.” Hank taps the table, “I wish I could do better, but the QZ is more Scavenger country, and no one I trust is going closer.”

I nod, “No, this is amazing! I really appreciate your help connecting me with a ride. Did you tell them I’m willing to work?”

Hank nods, “It’ll be appreciated, but Clem paid your fare, so even if you aren’t very ah, handy, they’ll still deliver you to Faraway.”

“Cool.”

“You should be able to buy a hoverbike in Faraway Haven that’ll get you to QZ-7.”

“Sounds good.” I notice that Hank’s avoiding looking at my pussymouth and eyes. Is he still caught up on our one night stand? “Hank, it’s okay.”

Hank blushes, “No it isn’t. You were obviously hurt and I took advantage. I was such an asshole.”

“Maybe, but I was desperate to feel normal and fuck a regular human man. I kinda used you too? And the sex was pretty good.” I shrug my shoulders, “And anyways I already forgave you. Let they who have not boinked a few Halleys cast the first stone.”

Hank, “Thanks, I missed having you around here.”

“I missed being around here.” I try for coquettish, which is a heavy lift for a pussy-face.,“You do serve the very best Mud-coffee on Flotsam.”

“Aw, shucks.”

“Boinked a few Halleys?” Freya says merrily. “I believe we three ought to compare notes…”

Hank coughs and stands, “Check please.”

“Coward!”

***

“Okay? What’s the surprise?” Two of Freya’s hands are covering my eyes, while the other two grip me by the tits to lead me around. I know I’m outside on the rooftop in Hank’s garden, but that’s about it. Freya gives my boobs an affectionate squish, and drops her hands away…

“Surprise!”

It’s everyone! Clementine and Bluebell and Hank and HAL-E, and even Halley-4 and her fiancé. “What the hell?” I ask happily.

Clementine trots to me and gathers me in a hug, “We wanted to throw you a going away party.” She kisses me on my pussy-lips. “See you off properly.”

Bluebell wraps us both in her embrace and moos. “It is important that The All demonstrates you are loved.”

“Aw guys,” I blush and fidget.

“Cute,” Halley-4 says, looking posh and four-legged.

“Hi,” her guy says shyly.

“Hi,” I saw back. “It’s nice to see you, but I’m a little surprised you came to this.”

Halley-4 frisks her tail, “I might not like your plan, but it’s your choice. I still want to see you succeed.” She smiles, “And I guess I want answers too.”

“Also we brought a present,” future Mr. Halley-taur says pointing at a bigass hoverbike with a rampant busty centauress painted on the cowling.

Halley-4 smiles, “It’s one of the long-range courier bikes we use at the Pony Express. It’ll be a lot faster and better than anything you can buy out on the Junk. The Salvagers should have room to bring it, at least on the way out.”

“Thank you, that’s extremely cool.”

Halley shrugs, “What are big clone sisters for?”

Hank clears his throat and holds up something that looks kind of like a box kite. “There is a tradition that folks in the city light paper lanterns for loved ones who work in the Junk.”

I nod, “I’ve heard of this; some kid started it to call home a lost parent, right?”

“Or something like that,” Hank nods. “There’s a big festival once a year, but it’s still good luck to light a lantern for newbies before their first trip out.”

Hank turns the paper lantern in his hand and I can see it’s signed by everyone at the party and has their handprints painted on it. “It’s beautiful. I love it!”

“All that remains is to set it free,” Freya says, holding a burning taper.

“You should do the honor,” HAL-E says.

“Really?”

Hank nods, “It’s tradition.”

I take a deep breath and mentally lift the taper out of Freya’s hands. It wobbles a bit and I frown, it probably wouldn’t still be lucky if I lit the thing on fire. Hank holds the lantern up and tips it away, giving me easier access to the little fuel canister. Ever so carefully I levitate the flame to the fuel and light it, making a little blue flame. Hank patiently holds the lantern upright while the hot air inflates the bag and generates lift. Satisfied, he lets it go, and the lantern floats into the air.

Clementine and Bluebell swaddle me in a hug and we watch the lantern float higher and higher. The flame makes the paper lantern glow with a warm orange light like molten lava, while the handprints stand out like dark shadows. It’s beautiful. This is beautiful. The lantern reaches the end of its tether, flying like a kite in the sky, and I stand there watching it in the arms of my lovers, surrounded by my friends and family.

***

To be continued…

Chapter 33: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … er-33.html

Flotsam
Chapter 33: Folly

“Welcome to Folly, what can this one do for you?”

“Folly, eh?” Well if the shoe fits.

The Blue bartender nods and frowns. They are careworn and dressed in drab canvas clothing, with only a small cravat made in a bright traditional pattern. “This one is called Fool.”

“Why Fool?”

“Because we are all fools who come to this place.”

I shake my head but can’t disagree. Folly is a tiny rust stain of a hamlet, just a few modest buildings clinging to a boulder surrounded by the endless scrap thicket of the Junk desert. As I cruised into the city I got the full tour: a blasted out garage, a few rickety electric windmills, a condenser tower, and a small suffering hydroponics farm, and this here rickety hostel and saloon, The Folly. The only signs of exterior life were a suffering android tilling the suffering farm, a silent old woman wearing a scowl and a tent sized shawl, and an actual fucking tumbleweed made of wires. I made for the saloon hoping it would be a bit more lively, which it is, for a fairly sad value of lively.

“Consider me a fool then,” I swing myself up onto a bar stool and perch awkwardly; arms suck, but a bar was made for leaning on. I glance around the saloon taking in the rest of the motley clientele. Besides Fool behind the bar, there are four leathery humans playing something like dominoes and giving off strong Scavenger vibes, a pair of bored sex workers killing time, and some sort of cloaked creature hunched over a drink. One of the sex workers, who is beautifully coiffed and male bodied despite their femme lingerie glares at me and mouths “off the clock”, but their unambiguously female companion smirks and lets her bare tits fall out of her thin robe. Make me an offer her eyes say. I quickly look somewhere else before either of us gets ideas. I see movement and the hunched creature glances away from me. I don’t think I recognize the species, but their body is almost completely obscured by a ragged hooded cloak. The hands clutching their cup are bright white, scaly, and taloned like a hawk. Fool studies me patiently, and I say, “Maybe you can help me out, one fool to another.”

Membranes swish across huge black eyes. I can see my reflection: dusty hair, dirty goggles on my forehead, filter mask kept on (to stop me picking up an infection from this bar), and a filthy poncho. “What do you need help with?”

“How much for a shower?” Oh God, or a bath.

“It is free if you brought your own water.”

Dang. “What is on offer then?”

“This one has cots to rent, liquid libations, and the contact information for a dubious local drug dealer.”

“What if I was more interested in making a trip into the Quarantine Zone than getting fucked up and sleeping it off.”

“Then you are a bigger fool than you look.” The Blue sighs, “But this one can sell you provisions, the garage can service your vehicle, and you can hire the local courier to take news of your demise to Faraway Haven.”

“Cheerful one aren’t you?”

“Do you wish to have a beverage or not?”

“Fine. Do you have Rocket?” That might be strong enough to kill whatever’s growing in it. Fool grunts and limps down the bar.

“DidIhearthatyouwishtoentertheQuarantineZone?”

“Ah!” I turn and see the creature from the bar has somehow appeared next to me. Standing it is huge, seven feet tall and lean, with a long face like a bone white stallion that ends in a sharp chipped beak. It regards me with blazing red eyes and the skin around it’s wide equine nostrils is enflamed with angry red veins. “What did you say?”

The white creature makes a noise like an angry heron. “Are. You. Going. To. The. Zone.”

Fuck. “I was going to yes?” Fuck. “Who wants to know?”

“IamCaptainLighteningFlashBeforeTheThunderUponThePlains.” An electric whine comes from within the creature’s clothing. A taloned hand appears and pulls back a robe fold to reveal a serious looking blaster pistol and a mechanized exoskeleton that’s seen better days. “I. Am. A. Bounty. Hunter. My. Prey. Is. In. The. Zone.”

“Oh. Is it dangerous there?”

The tall white alien glares at me like I’m an idiot.

“Right.”

A servo whines and almost too fast to see a mechanical cylinder is slapped on the bar. “You. Will. Inform. Me. If. You. Spot. Them.”

“And who are you looking for?”

“The. Human. Earthling. Called. Halley.”

Fucking fuck! “Okay.” Gulp! But be cool. “I’ll do my best.”

“Acceptable.”

The creature awkwardly shuffles back to their drink, moving with erratic bursts of sudden speed. Fucking good thing I kept my mask on. Fool puts my drink on the bar and leans in close. “Avoid the Tall White Captain. Terrible fortune clings to that nonbreeding-female-pronoun like a miasma.”

“Who the fuck are they?” I ask very quietly, sparing a glance at the hunched Captin to see if they’re watching us.

“The Captain was once the legendary commander of a Tall White Marauder,” Fool murmurs. “Some say that nonbreeding-female-pronoun had a reputation for completing missions no matter the difficulty or… legality of the objectives.”

“Right.”

The Blue bartender leans in even closer, “Some say The Captain and their crew were sent to forbidden Earth to abduct some pathetic human Earthling woman.”

Oh fuck. There is no way! This has to be a coincidence.

“Supposedly the mission had been successful, The Captain had outwitted the Guardians and collected their prize and escaped. However… The Captain was met with random misfortune, and the Marauder was destroyed while travelling within the Nexus.”

“And the Captain crashed here?” Fuck me.

“Just like all the flotsam from that accursed wormhole network.”

“Jesus…”

“To regain their honour and avenge their crew the Captain must recapture their Prey.”

Fucking hell! “Who told you all this?”

Fool nods very slightly in the direction of the hunched Tall White. “The Captain has been known to imbibe a libation. Or fifteen.”

“I see…” Do not freak out. Freaking out is not helpful.

The bartender rests their hand on my shoulder and says in the barest of whispers, “You have a recognizable face. Earthling.”

“Fuck.”

“I think it would be prudent for you to finish your beverage and leave.”

I push my drink away with my mind, “I think maybe it’d be better if I skip it and go now.”

“Then you are perhaps less of a fool than this one had believed.”

I stand up and try to walk calmly towards the exit. Nice and slow…nothing to see here…

“Going. Somewhere.”

The sound of servos right behind me. I stop and square my shoulders, I can sense The Captain looming and the two blasters on their hips. I wonder if I can throw the guns away with my telekinesis, or maybe even crush them with my mind. I shiver, that seems unnecessarily stupid to try. Save the superheroics for Plan B. Instead I turn slowly to face The Captain. They look intimidating as fuck, a towering brilliant white avian-horse-humanoid strapped into a mechanized suit. With very large guns. Furious red eyes glower at me. “Is there a…”

“Flash! Have you finally managed to capture someone?” Sings a too-familiar voice, but deeper somehow. Resonant.

I whirl and see that a giant Halley has entered the saloon. She’s eight feel tall and huge like a bodybuilder who might also be a Greek demigod. She’s wearing a passable black cowboy hat and a long duster coat that brushes the floor. One side of her giant face is lined with scars and she’s wearing an eyepatch over her left eye. She makes a big crooked grin, “And a Halley, no less.”

The Captain makes a furious sqwuak: “Fortune!”

“That’s Ms. Fortune to you.”

Big Halley steps further into the saloon, her boots thudding heavily on the floor. The Captain hisses and circles to the left, hands resting on their blasters, moving to keep me between the them. Chairs scrape the floor and the Scavengers crawl underneath their table. The sex workers become less bored and turn to watch. Fuck I wish I wasn’t right in the middle of this. I cast a desperate look at Fool. The bartender sighs and raises their hands, “Captain, Ms. Fortune, it is very well that you have located one another, but I will ask that you continue you’re discussion outside of my establishment.”

“Aw, Fool aren’t you happy to see me?” Big Halley says with a mock pout.

“Not particularly.”

The Captain is breathing deeply and their servo suit is starting to whine alarmingly. I can see their talon fingers twitching, nearly touching their weapons. Big Halley grins fiercely and touches her eyepatch. “Flash, please, do we have to do this again? You might have been the fastest shot in the Aviary, but we’re still down here in this awful terrestrial gravity.” Her finger slips under the edge of the patch. “So do you feel lucky?”

“YouAreAnAbomination!”

I try to move out from between the Captain and Big Halley but they both circle to keep me trapped. Fuck!

“Is that any way to talk to your…”

The Captain screams like an eagle and grabs their guns…

… and Halley lifts her eye patch revealing:

M
A
D
N
E
S
S

A kaleidoscope of burning colour-without-colour,
seethes like a fever,
whirling furious maelstrom,
grim joyful disarray,
unmovable gravity,
melting,
…
..
.

My mind goes slack and the room grows still.

The Captain’s hands relax and their guns fall to the floor.

“…to talk to your BEST FRIEND?”

I can’t believe that awful alien tried to hurt my best friend, Big Halley!

“We are ALL FRIENDS HERE,” Halley says, the mesmerizing hole in her face boiling impossibly.

But it’s okay, we are all friends. I just want her to like me so much!

“OhAngelsIamsosorry!!!” The Captain squeals in distress.

“Flash, you are such a naughty bitch, go fetch me a bottle!”

“YesyesyesMistressFortune!”

“On the house my good Fool?”

“Yes, this one couldn’t imagine charging you! What is the purpose of friends?”

Big Halley smiles and steps closer to me. She is so fantastically huge! My head barely reaches her chest and she has to crouch to inspect me. Her blazing left eye is a star caught within flesh. I stand on my tiptoes and preen, push out my tits and pull back my shoulders. “And we do indeed have ourselves a Halley.”

I blush, feeling suddenly shy, “I’m Halley-24.”

“Howdy. Where are your arms?”

“Oh,” I frown and feel anxious, “I think arms are stupid and had them removed.”

Big Halley cracks a wide grin, “Fantastic! I’m the only Halley who needs arms around here anyway.”

I smile, oh good, I was worried she was going to be unhappy with my body choices. “You don’t think I’m strange?”

Halley chuckles, a deep rumble I can feel in my chest. “It runs in the family.” She stands up tall and unbuttons her coat to reveal two enormous breasts, big even for her gigantic body, except instead of nipples each tit has a mouth with plump smiling lips “Meet the gang.”

“Howdy,” her left breast says, a golden tooth flashing. “So you’re really a Halley?”

“Tho cool! Will we be adding her to the team!?” Her right breast says, lisping around a big tongue piercing.

“Maybe,” Big Halley says, pulling her duster open to show off a leather corset and her enormous cock. It’s thick and girthy and nearly as big as my leg below the knee. And there! On her crotch is an eyeball! A familiar violet eyeball! “Say hello to your sister.”

“My sister?”

“My cock,” Big Halley says proudly, “is Halley-19.”

(A distant part of me screams: Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!) “Amazing!”

“Right!” Big Halley tilts her head and frowns at me, her bare left eye still erupting with madness. “What’s with the mask? I think you should REMOVE IT.”

“Oh! Um… okay.” I grab my dust mask with my mind and yank it off to expose my face pussy.

“Jesus Christ! Incredible!” Big Halley says with hearty laugh, “You’re too perfect! Exactly what I’ve been looking for! You definitely need to join the gang.”

“Awethome!” “Yee-haw!” Sing her tits. The eyeball on her crotch crinkles in a smile.

“Cool!” I say grinning (while inside something goes noooooooo).

Big Halley accepts two bottles of Rocket from The Captain and tucks them into the huge pockets of her coat. She tips her cowboy hat at Fool, “Thanks for the drink, much obliged.” And then she smirks at The Captain, “Flash, you can go FUCK YOURSELF.”

“Yesofcoursemistress!” The Captain gushes before diving to the floor and curling into a ball so that they can do something obscene with their tongue and a weird opening between their legs.

Big Halley and her tits heartily guffaw and I smile along with them (even if I’m a little horrified). Big Halley shakes her head, “Alright Pussy-Halley COME ALONG, it’s time for us to hit the ol’ rusty trail. I reckon it’s time to add you to the collection.”

“Amazing! I can’t wait!”

(Help!)

***

To be continued…

Chapter 34: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … 4.html?m=1

Flotsam

Chapter 34: Misfortune

“Welcome to your new home,” Big Halley announces as she effortlessly lifts aside a metal panel and ushers me into a derelict spacecraft buried somewhere in Quarantine Zone 7. She smiles and her left eye continues to blaze and seethe with an unreality that tunnels into my mind.

“Um… it’s very nice?” I say to be polite, since it really isn’t. Just a bare metal room hung with posters of sexy Gladiators and a pile of dirty mattresses, some of which are folded against the wall to make a sort of couch. Deep down I want to leave, but I really don’t want to upset my new best friend. I wish I’d brought a bottle of wine or a gift, like a houseplant or pineapple. The room could use a little brightening up. “Thank you so much for having me!”

Big Halley has to stoop to fit inside and crawls to the nest of mattresses. She tosses off her cowboy hat and wriggles out of her enormous coat and sighs happily. Her gigantic body ripples with bulky muscle and soft curves and takes up nearly the entire chamber. Her huge breasts smile and fill her arms and her cock is rigid and staring at me. “COME SIT,” Big Halley says and I’m forced to crawl around her limbs like an obstacle course to find my own narrow perch in the mattress pile.

Big Halley studies me with her mortal eye and frowns, “You should get comfortable.”

I lift my legs up to my chest and distantly feel phantom anxiety. “I am comfortable,” I say. I don’t want to be a bother.

“You should GET NAKED,” Big Halley says.

I wince, “I’d really like to, but this jumpsuit is hard to get off!” I blush thinking of the hopping, squirming production, even with Lately or Freya’s assistance. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of my cool big clone.

“Let me help,” Big Halley says reaching over and grabbing the fabric of my clothing. The erupting madness in her eyes flashes and my armored jumpsuit rips as if paper and crumbles to ash in her grasp. “Holy shit!” I say.

“That’s better,” Big Halley says. “Yeah!” Agree both her tits in unison.

“I guess…” (No no no no no….)

“Why don’t you stand up and give us a twirl?” Big Halley asks.

I blush, “Um?”

“Don’t be bathful,” says Big Halley’s right tit.

“You’re plenty fucking winsome,” adds left tit, golden tooth glinting.

“Thith ith a sthafe sthpathe,” righty intones solemnly.

“Okay…” (Not okay.) I stand and fidget, but then think why not make the best of it? I’m with my really good friends, right? This is a safe space. I take a deep breathe and do my best model walk, rolling my wide hips and ass, thrusting out my proud tits, and trying to display the elegant lines of my armless body. Surprisingly I feel sexy; my cock gets a little hard and the cunt on my face starts to drool. I strike a dramatic pose and smile with my eyes. Big Halley claps and her tits holler in appreciation. Halley-19 the cock is rock hard and dribbling precum.

Standing in front of Big Halley like this I can’t help but see our similarities. We’re both clones of the same woman who became busty hermaphrodites, but built to a different scale. It’s like we’re different sized versions of the same doll, although Big Halley’s physique is more action figure to my elegant helpless plaything. “You really like me?”

“Like you? I love you!” Big Halley drawls, gripping her giant cock. “I reckon this meeting is fated.”

“Woah!” (What the fuck?) “That’s amazing,” I gush.

Big Halley smiles and her left eye radiates simultaneous shadow and brilliance. “I should probably fill you in on the situation here.”

Yes! Some clarity would be very helpful! “Sure… if you want to…”

“Well folks in these parts call me Ms. Fortune, on account of meeting me is unlucky.”

“I’d hardly say that!” So unfair!

Ms. Fortune rumbles a chuckle and I feel it in my chest. “That’s very kind. ‘Course, I originally picked the moniker on account of I was decanted as Halley-13.”

My eyes grin and my labia puckers “That’s so clever!”

“Shit,” Lefty spits, “So that is an Earthling thing! Always figured she was lying!”

“Haha!” Righty says with a wide grin, “That meanth I win the bet. Pay up!”

“I’ll get right on that.”

“Bitch.”

Ms. Fortune gropes her tits, “Pay no mind to the Double Dees, they can be a bit too lippy at times.”

My eager to please self and terrified self find common ground: “Um… how did you all end up like this? Why are you so big and um?”

Ms. Fortune taps her scarred face beside the kaleidoscopic maelstrom of her left eye socket.

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s a long tale,” The giant woman settles her body and pats her raised thighs. “Come HAVE A SEAT.”

I don’t want to but I happily climb onto Ms. Fortunes huge lap and straddle her waist so that her thighs make a backrest. My legs are spread wide and I can feel the inhumanly large shaft of her Halley-19 cock press warmly against my labia and balls. Halley-19’s eyeball studies me intensely from Ms. Fortune’s crotch and I feel the huge cock twitch with lust. I resist the urge to squirm and look way up to Ms. Fortune’s face. “Tell me the story.”

A giant hand reaches down to stroke my bare back and Ms. Fortune says, “I manifested, like we all do, naked and afraid, then spent some time in Flotsam city, made a few mistakes, and hit out for the Junk Desert to seek my fortune Scavenging. Reckoned I might find a treasure or two, parlay that into wealth and comfort or maybe a ticket back to Earth.” She chuckled, and I felt the rumble of it in my chest. “God! It was all such bullshit and bluster! All those wise Junk experts that’d filled my head with glory were liars or braggarts or plain fucking with me. There’s hardly any treasure out here, just a wasteland of garbage.

I tilt my head, “Clearly you found something valuable.”

She nods, “It’s like finding a diamond in a tundra.”

“How’d you manage it?”

“What does anyone do to fix their luck? I cheated.”

“What does that mean?”

“Here, let me show you.” She rests her big hands on my empty shoulders, fingers trailing down my back. The swirling madness of her ocular anomaly gains complexity, somehow meaning, mental unfolding, burrowing burrowing burrowing…

***

I stare down the scope of our one rifle and watch the three figures argue around the rusty steel box. I rest my finger on the trigger and stick my tongue out between my teeth. Maybe we should do this the easy way for once?

“What d’ya reckon boss?” Dejana asked, her gold tooth sparking in the sunlight. I look at her and she’s excited, her narrow face split in a lopsided grin. “Time to put on our cabaret act?”

“Sure.”

“Pleath give me the gun,” Desh said quietly, lisping on her tongue piercing. She brushes her dirty curls out of her eyes and holds out her hand for the rifle. I look at the identical twin sisters, lean and beatiful but a little careworn, dirty but resplendent in their tattered corsets and stockings. My Goodtime Gals gone bad.

Dejana pouts, “How come you always get the gun?”

“Becauth I’m the betht thot,” Desh says primly.

“You aren’t that good!”

“Ladies…” Desh wasn’t that good a shot, truth be told, but the only person safe from Dejana was whoever she was actually aiming at. I hand the rifle to Desh and shrug at Dejana. “We all have our strengths.”

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.”

Desh takes the rifle and crawls on her belly to a good overlook spot and stares down the gun for a while. “Thith’ll do.”

I rub my hands together and try to calm the gurgle of fear in my belly. This was no time for stage fright. I nod at Dejana, “You ready?”

“Reckon so boss,” she says baring her golden tooth.

“Showtime.”

***

“Howdy friends!” I say, stepping out of the rubble.

“Damnable fates!” The scruffy human man in a tattered cloak says unhappily, hopping sideways.

“Who the fuck are you?” Another human gasps, a lean bald man with metal plates bolted to his skull. He reaches for a sidearm on his waist.

CRACK!!!

A dusty crater appears between the man’s feet courtesy of Desh. “Rrrreach for the sky boys!” I hold up my hands as an example and nod at the third figure, the scrawniest Nordic man I’ve ever seen. “All of them if you please. I wouldn’t want all my heavily armed friends up in the scrap getting nervous.” The Nordic man lifts all four of his thin arms and spits.

“What do you want?” Baldy asks. Dejana materializes from the substrate of the Junk like a ghost and helps herself to his weapon. Gold glints in her shit eating smile. “You!” Baldy says angrily.

“Howdy, lover,” Dejana purrs obscenely.

“I’m Ms. Fortune and I see you’ve already met one of my Goodtime Gals,” I tip my wide hat and Dejana sketches a bawdry curtsy with her tiny ruffled skirts. “It’s your unlucky day.”

“We’re here to rob you assholes,” Dejana adds with a friendly wink.

Scruffy laughs, “What makes you think we have anything of value? Can you not recognize our destitution?”

“True y’all are a motley crew, but you seemed mighty concerned about what’s in that there lockbox. Open it.”

“Fucking do it!” Dejana says loudly.

“This is preposterous and barbaric! We shall follow no such requests!”

CRACK!!!

Another smoking hole appears in the metal not but a few inches from Scruffy’s head.

“It was a command, not a request.”

The Scrawny Nord growls and glares with feverish eyes. His four hands open and close.

“Next shot won’t be a warning.”

Dejana jabs Baldy with his weapon. “What about you, Lover? Feelin’ helpful? Feelin’ brave?”

“Careful, whore” he says.

Dejana jabs him hard in the ribs and grinds the aperture of her borrowed weapon into his side. “Open! The! Fucking! Box!” She screams in his ear. “Or I’ll kill you like a fucking pig,” she whispers, her gold tooth caressing his earlobe.

“Fine!” Baldy blushes angrily and touches the metal on his skull just so, and the safebox clicks. “There.”

The Scruffy man sighs and the Scawny Nord growls.

“If this is a trick,” Dejana says, voice husky with feigned lust, “I’ll fuck you up real bad.”

I sidle up to the lock box, place my foot on the lid and kick, bracing myself for a trap. But the box just clangs open. There’s not much in it, some ration blocks and power cells, and a few other Scavenging staples. I frown, it’s not exactly a promising haul. Why did Baldy brag about their incredible find when he paid for a night with Dejana? Was it all fucking bluster? We ought to shoot his balls off. Except… Well, well, well... What have we here? There’s some kind of small ceramic box that is giving powerful treasure vibes. I lift it and it’s surprisingly heavy. It’s warm too, and there is a subtle vibration to it that makes my fingers tingle. “Good luck follows the bad.”

Baldy sighs and Scruffy makes impotent fists and the Nordic scarecrow howls and lunges at me, pulling a knife from somewhere. I gasp and trip backwards, fall onto my back, but keep the precious box clasped to my chest. “Fucking gut you…” The Scrawny Nord spits.

CRACK!!!

And then he’s decapitated, a four-armed headless corpse, falling to its knees.

I pick myself up, cradling the box which sings to me like an angel. I shake my head, see Dejana and Baldy are wrestling, flighting over the strange little weapon, and that Scruffy is running for the hills, his ragged cloak blending into the Junk. I scoop up the Nord’s knife just as Baldy manages to roll on top of Dejana, pinning her to the ground. I take three long steps and stab the blade into Baldy’s back, making him scream and topple. I kick him and he tumbles aside. He somehow has his weapon and tries to stand and…

CRACK!!!

Another problem solved. I drop the bloody knife and nod up the hill to Desh, glad as always to have given her the gun. Dejana wipes blood from her face and scampers over to the lockbox, rummages, pulls out rations and survival kit, curses quietly.

“Find anything thexy?” Desh asks when she joins us in the camp.

“Nothing but hot fucking garbage,” Dejana sulks.

“Not quite,” I admit, somewhat begrudgingly.

“What ith it?” Desh asks.

“Open it!” Dejana says.

I hug the ceramic box possessively, acutely jealous. I don’t want to share. I need to buy myself some time.

“Not here.”
***

My mind trembles and swirls and jumbles and reassembles…

***

I’m holding the precious ceramic box and Dejana and Desh are watching me expectantly. My heart is racing and I’m sweating and my hands are shaking. I desperately want to open the box, but I’m frightened too. Wherever inside is calling to me, whispering without words, making promises or threats. Offering fortune or misfortune. I feel the ghost of one of my anxiety attacks on the edges, and force myself to take a long therapy session style breath. I am in control. I am a badass. I am a bandit Queen. This is my treasure. I smile at Dejana and Desh and open the box.

M
A
D
N
E
S
S

A star without light or heat or fire,
darkness and clarity,
eternal moment,
potential potential potential
directionality
freedom
power
…
..
.

My hand closes on the spherical impossibility in the box without a thought. My fist burns, melts and withers and swells and heals all at once. Electricity. Unfurling. Inexplicable. I might be screaming? Involuntarily I raised my clenched hand to my face and smash the contents into my left eye. Pain! Searing! Horrifying! Enormous! Endless! Agony! I feel my eyeball vaporize, the flesh of my face melts and warps, and something, an object, an absence, thrusts itself into the vacated socket, lodges there, roots. Dejana screams, clarion, pealing, piercing, and Desh vomits in terror. I’m making noises, choking, wailing, laughing, and thrashing too, seizing on the ground, hands hooked claws, face locked in a frigid boiling rictus, mouth foaming, while inside me connections are sought. I’m invaded, integrated, reassembled, made whole. Different somehow, but still me, still Halley-13. Ms. Fortune.

Gasping, spitting, I sit up and wipe my mouth. Half my vision is gone, obliterated with my eyeball, a hemisphere of darkness. In it’s place I feel a new sensation, a cosmic resonance in everything around me, but especially in my occupied left eye socket. Whatever it is rages with energy and the universe trembles to feel it’s touch like a submissive lover. Understanding unfurls and I lick my lips. Ms. Fortune indeed.

Dejana and Desh clutch each other, pale and horrified; trembling. Desh is crying and Dejana looks like she is about to faint. “It’s alright,” I say with a smile, and give them both a little willful push. “WE ARE ALL FINE.”

Dejana’s face splits in a familiar gold toothed smile. “Great boss! What the fuck happened?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit, touching the raw skin around my new eye.

“How doth it feel?” Desh asks, cautious but excited.

“Like it’s our lucky day!” I smile and the twin sisters grin in return. Two beautiful women, my friends and confidants, my sometime lovers. My Goodtime Gals. My gang. Nearly identical except for Dejana’s golden tooth and foul mouth or Desh’s stupid tongue piercing. Except now I could examine them completely, sense the spark of firing neurons, the steady pulse of their circulatory systems, the tension of sinew and muscle, the ineffable state of their minds, all the ways they were so very similar and yet totally unique. I feel a giddy surge of love and lust… and a new sensation. The maelstrom in my face needs something, desires it, yearns, commands. It has requirements. Requirements from my gang. I feel an ache in my soul, an emptiness that demands filling. A hunger. “Girls,” I whisper, “I NEED YOU.”

Dejana smiles her filthy smile and unfastens her basque, baring her tits, “Fuck me raw, boss.”

Desh blushes, a little shy, a little hesitant, but follows her sister’s lead and slips out of her ruffled little skirt. Her pert pussy is wet. “Yeth…”

I kiss them both hungrily on the mouth, tasting their lips, their breath, the essence of their lust, their vitality, and the whirling mass of their atoms. I drink them in and feel the unknowable vortex in my eye socket soak them up, their metaphysical vectors, their existence, their matter, piqued but not sated. “MORE,” I gasp, hands fumbling with Desh’s corset, I groan in frustration. I feel a surge in my skull and the universe trembles at my desire, and instantaneously we are all totally naked, me and the twins, who are kissing my neck and caressing my body. I want them both desperately, to fuck them rough and hold them to me tenderly, to be together forever. The girls lean in and chew on my shoulders, their mouths hot, their essence resonating with mine, entwining. I touch them and my fingers tingle and pass into them, join us for a moment into a new whole and I experience euphoria. Yes! This is what I need! To consume! The storm in my skull pulses with arousal. I let my hands ghost through their bodies, their racing hearts, and moaning throats, out through their chins. I grab them gently and pull their lips to my achingly hard nipples. Dejana and Desh kiss me, suck on me, stroke me with their tongues. I tip my head back and moan, pleasure arcing through my body. With shaking hands I grasp them by the back of their heads and push them against my tits, onto my tits, into my tits. The hurricane in my skull explodes in ecstatic frenzy! I watch as the twins lips fuse into my flesh, their tongues conjoining with my nipples. Their eyes are wide in shock and pleasure for a moment, but then they seal over with smooth skin as their faces, their skulls, their necks are absorbed into my breasts. I take a step forward, a woman with two bodies sprouting from her chest, six feet scrabbling on the ground. I rake my hands over the twin’s backs, leaving red scratches, desperate to pull more of them inside me. Dejana and Desh blindly clutch at me, groping and pulling, as if they were trying to help climb inside. We all stumble as their arms and legs go limp and wither, while their bodies grow swollen and boneless. I gasp and nearly fall down as their weight becomes mine, dragging heavily at my chest, two deforming torsos squirming helplessly. I grunt and feel a newfound surge of strength, some of their mass flowing into my musculature. I stand up taller and hoist the quivering shrinking bodies of my Dejana and Desh. I grope them, crush them into my chest, fondle them like the giant tits they are becoming, that they are. My tits! My new tits! The maelstrom inside my skull radiates joy and energetic satiation and I caress my hugely expanded breasts, shaping them, making them perfect, making them mine. I laugh and smile and feel Dejana and Desh inside me, as part of me, joyful additions to my pattern. I shiver at the incredible intimacy of it. I gasp and experience a burst of orgasmic euphoria.

I feel incredible!  But… I’m a little troubled too, perturbed by the cost of this, the loss of companionship, the loss of their voices. On balance it’s a fair bargain, but maybe I don’t have to make this sacrifice? The ecstatic dynamo in eye socket tastes my wish and I feel a surge of heat in my tits, in my Dejana and Desh, and I whimper as I feel an engorged splitting sensation in my nipples. I moaned and two new voices gasp from inside my breasts. I touch them, feel lips, and hard teeth, and wet mouths, and a tongue with a stupid piercing. “Girls? Are you okay?”

“Oh fucking fuck boss…” groans Dejana, my left breast.

“Mmm yeth…” purrs Desh, my right breast.

I hug my tits, my Double D’s, my Goodtime Gals!

My gang! My body!

Now and forever!

***

I blink and am myself again, straddling Halley-13’s huge lap and cock. Ms. Fortune’s big smiling tits are right in my face. I recognize a gold tooth, a striking mole, and the little puckered X of a scar. Dejana and Desh. Her twin best friends and lovers. Her breasts. (Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! I am in so much fucking trouble!) I smile and blush, “Wow! That was intense!”

“Sure fucking was,” Dejana the tit agrees.

“Tho intenthe!” Desh lisps.

“Yeah,” Ms. Fortune gives her tits a fond grope and smiles. “That’s how we found my special eyeball and how these ladies became my bosom companions.”

(Fuck!!!) I study Ms. Fortune, all muscular eight-something feet of her, and recall the sensation of growing. “Is this how you became so big too?

Halley-13 shakes her head, “Nah, I only gained a few inches from absorbing the Double Dee’s. Most of my gains came after I added Halley-19 to my body; then I really grew up. Consuming her was much more satisfying…” She shrugs, “No idea why though.”

“Oh!” I say brightly, excited to share with my big friend, “It’s probably because Halley-Prime wasn’t human. Or she was, at least physically, but her like soul, I guess, was extraterrestrial.” I bite my lip and squirm, “We Halleys are all aliens, sort of.”

Ms. Fortune tips her head back and laughs, “No shit! That’s crazy.” She leers down at me puts a possessive hand on my head, “It does explain why I hunger so deeply for you, though.” She licks her lips.

(No no no no no no! Fuck!!!) I blush and squirm, rubbing my cunt on Ms. Fortune’s enormous Halley-19 cock. “I’m sure I’m delicious!” (Nononononono…)

Ms. fortune strokes her chin, “Why don’t I give you a preview?”

“Awesome!” (Noooooo!)

The kaleidoscope of madness flares brighter, becomes fractile with meaning, and I feel my mind captured and slip sideways, a sudden epiphany, and then down down down down down down….

***

I’m gasping for breath and my heart is racing so fast it hurts. I pick myself off the ground and spit, test my ankle and it spasms in pain. Fucking sprained! I hobble a few more pathetic agonizing steps. Badly fucking sprained! I look around desperately, see I’ve tumbled into a scree of small metal chunks and plastic, a loose sandpit of crap too tiny to hide in. I try to limp away, but it hurts so much, and the pebbly ground pulls at my every step. This is hopeless!

“Tellmewheresheis!”

I hear a crunch and the electric whine of servos. I stop and sigh. “I told you, nobody knows where she is. She’s disappeared.”

“Yet. You. Come. To. This. Place?”

I turn and raise a pair of my hands, nonthreatening, but keep my lower arms hugged around my torso hidden under my desert poncho. I subtly slide my lower left hand down to touch the handle of my raygun. “I told you I’m just following up on a hunch.”

The bounty hunter snorts wide nostrils and tosses its long white equine head. Their exoskeleton sighs and they rest taloned hands on their weapons. Feverish red eyes glare at me suspiciously. “This. Is. A. Long. Way. To. Travel. For. A. Hunch.”

I shrug my top shoulders. Quarantine Zone 7 was a long way to travel for any reason, but it was the only lead left from my investigations. I wanted, no, I needed to follow this one last thread before I gave up the search. Better to be way out here than dealing with… “I had nothing better to do with my time.”

“Bethatso… Why. Not. Hunt. Together?”

Because you are a terrifying monster who wants to abduct Prime? Sure, why don’t I lead your right to her? “Because it’s probably a wild goose chase.”

“Wild goose?” The huge white alien tilts its head in an alarmingly anserine way and grinds its beak.

“A pointless exercise. I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Itisasyousay… I. Have. Nothing. Better. To. Do.”

I stare at the bounty hunter and it stares back, neither of us move, the only sound is the wind and the buzz of servos. Jesus, what am I going to do? I’ve seen how fast this monster can move. I lick dry lips and feel sweat trickle down my back. Shit…

“Well, well, well, well, well… what in the Tarantino have we got here?”

“Looks like a fucking standoff, boss.”

“Yeth, a real thticky thitchuathon.”

“I think we ought to try and mediate a peaceful resolution. Be good Samaritans.”

“What’th a Thamaritan?”

I hear the crunch of heavy footfalls and spare a glance at the newcomer. She’s tall, 6-something and big, muscular and sturdy. Improbably she has her tits out, big round boobs with lips instead of nipples? Mouths? And she’s wearing a cowboy hate and an eyepatch and… fuck! She’s me! Another Halley clone!

“Howdy Halley,” my tall one-eyed clone says happily, “Howdy Flash. What a lucky day!”

“Youagain!” The bounty hunter snaps their beak and somehow looks angrier.

“Harassing innocent Halleys still?”

“This. Does. Not. Concern. You.”

“I thought I told you to fuck off?” One-eyed Halley asks while her breasts blow raspberries at the bounty hunter. A tongue ring glints from the right tit. I should use this chance to run away. I shift my weight and my ankle flares with pain. Shit! Maybe I could shoot the hunter while they’re distracted…

“I. Do. Not. Fuck. Off.”

“I believe my exact words were: leave here and never return?”

“Thatwasadifferentplace.”

One-eyed Halley nods, “Ah, true enough. You and I do get around the Junk, don’t we Flash?” She fingers the flap of her eyepatch and the bounty hunter draws their blasters in a blink, training one on Halley and one on me.

“I’m happy to leave you two to work things out,” I offer, taking a limping step backwards.

“Stay!” Barks the hunter.

“Yeth, do thtay!” Lisps Halley’s tit.

“We’ll be done with this stupid fucker in a second,” promises the other tit with a glint of gold.

“Quiet!”

“Don’t talk to my tits like that,” One-eyed Halley scolds, “My eye is up here.”

She flips up her eyepatch and…

M
A
D
N
E
S
S

Dripping, twirling, rushing, falling, flying,
a breath held forever,
illusionary calm,
manic tranquility
accelerating stillness
discord
…
..
.

My mind stills and all four of my arms go slack.

The bounty hunter drops their weapons and goes catatonic.

One-eyed Halley grins and cracks her knuckles and her tits smile cruelly. “What shall we do with you Flash? Suggestions?”

“We ought to bury them up to their fucking neck and leave them for the Night Feeders.”

“I vote we thrtip them naked and make them danthe until they pathe out.”

Halley pats her breasts fondly, “Great suggestions gals, but it all sounds a bit too high effort.” She smiles at me and my mind shivers. “Especially since we have such a lovely new friend to get acquainted with.”

One-eyed Halley snaps her fingers, “Flash, why don’t you be a doll and RUN ALONG HOME TO FOLLY.”

The Bounty Hunter nods eagerly and dashes rapidly across the scree filled crater, legs and arms pumping rapidly in a loping four-legged gait, exoskeleton shrieking in effort. The hunter reaches the embankment and nimbly scales it, lunging between debris, dirty cloak flapping like wings, until with a final leap the hunter disappears from view. “That ought to keep them busy awhile.”

My cyclopian clone looks at me and I stare into the writhing chaos erupting from her face. Distantly I notice her smile at me, “Now that we’ve lost the riff-raff we can get on with the business of being GREAT FRIENDS.”

My mind tumbles and a happy burst of familiarity fills my chest. “Hi! I’m Halley-19!”

“Howdy sis, I’m Halley-13 but folks round here call me Ms. Fortune.”

“Ms. Fortune?”

“Because meeting me is always a lucky occasion.”

The bounty hunter didn’t look so lucky, but anyway I titter and grin, “I guess that makes me Ms. Fortune-ate!”

“Cute,” Ms. Fortune says, leering at me oddly. She licks her lips like she’s hungry and thoughtfully strokes her tits. “What’d ya say, girls? Should we invite Halley here to join our gang?”

“Sure thing!”

“Fantathic!”

“Sounds great?” I say, playing along.

“You should get more comfortable,” Ms. Fortune says. “STRIP FOR ME!”

I smile shyly, “Um? Okay.” I sway my hips and unfasten my poncho, let it drop to the ground, and try to do something elegant with my four arms. I feel goofy, but Ms. Fortune and her tits are smiling, so I open the neck of my jumpsuit and peel it back, bare my four modest breasts with their barbell stud piercings. Ms. Fortune raises an eyebrow and I wink, yeah so I’m a little kinky. I’m a little naughty. I touch my keyband and my jumpsuit gets looser and I slip it off my arms and shoulders, leave it around my waist like a skirt. I turn my back to my audience and stick out my butt and one of Ms. Fortune’s boobs whistles in appreciation. Butterfly tingles dance in my crotch and my nipples ache with arousal. I glance back over my shoulder, teasing, and slide my jumpsuit below my hips and step out of my boots. I pull the clips out of my long hair and let it fall loose over my shoulders and face in an inky cascade. “How was that?” I ask, voice husky.

“Magnificent,” says Ms. Fortune, husky herself.

“Thanks!” I say with a big smile and blush.

“Want to have sex?”

I blink, surprised by her directness, but then again I did just put on a sexy show for her. I’m feeling a bit frisky too, all warmed up from my dance, and it’s not like she’d be the first Halley I’d fucked. This could be fun? I’ve already gone through the trouble of disrobing…but… “I like you a lot! But, well, we’ve only just met?” I hug my belly with my lower arms. “And this isn’t exactly the most romantic spot…”

Ms. Fortune surveys the junky crumb filled crater. “A fair assessment.” She frowns and the seething impossibility flashes darkly. “How about just a kiss then? For rescuing you? Then maybe I could play with you somewhere more plush.”

I shrug and smile, “Sure? Why not?” What could a little kiss hurt?

I sashay over to my tall clone sister, let my arms sway, thrust out my tits a little. The secret to a good kiss is the build up, right?

I stop in front of her and look up, she’s a few inches taller than me. I stand up on my tip toes, but she stops me with her hands. “Not my lips,” she admonishes playfully.

“Huh?” I smile through my confusion, “Then where?”

She boops my chin and tilts my head down. Oh, a kiss on her pussy? Does she want me to eat her out? Right now? I thought we’d hit pause on the sex party? But instead she touches herself on the bald bulge of her public mound. “Right. Here.”

I grin and shake my head a little. Of all the places for a smooch? She has so many lips! “Sure,” I say, kneeling down so my face is lined up with her crotch. I grab the back of her ankles and trace my other hands over the backs of her legs, her thighs, the plush expanse of her ass. “Yessss…” she says.

I pucker up…

Make a kissy noise…

Lean in…

My lips brush her skin…

Heat and pressure explode in my face, pleasurable ecstasy rushes through my body! My pussy spasms in orgasm and I try to moan and gasp but my lips are stuck to her skin! No not stuck… melded! Merging! I feel face dissolving, flowing, deforming… My nostrils seal over and my jawbone dissolves; my hair falls out in clumps. My eyes go wide in shock and joy, strain for one last look, before my eyelids slam closed, seal themselves forever. I’m blind and deaf and mute. My legs scrabble at the ground and my four arms clutch at Ms. Fortune, grope for meaning. I feel a hand stroke my back and a strange new pleasure ripple along my body. I’m aware of my head dissolving into her body, my skull melting, my brain consumed, but somehow my mind is whole, euphoric, awash in erotic sensation! My bare skin tingles and I feel a thunderous pulse as boiling hot blood rushes into me. I twitch and ache and my bones go spongy and absent, yet I remain rigid somehow. Inflated. Engorged. My skin tingles and the heat of my form radiates hungrily. My limbs become clumsy, floppy and deformed, shorter. Shrinking away. My knees leave the ground and I’m balanced on what’s left of my feet. I feel a strange twisting in my tits, grope them feebly with the flippers of my dwindling arms, feel my tits merge and harden, feel the skin around them grow sensitive and wrinkled and loose. I thrum in arousal and feel a pressure there, a new churning potential, floodwaters surging for release. My torso spasms and bucks, and thick slippery syrup oozes out of my cunt. Or whatever it’s becoming since my pissy and anus are flowing together, merging to become my sole opening, an aching slit inside the sensitive swelling mass of my hips and ass. I flail the tiny nubs of my limbs one last time and then I’m nothing but an aching urgent hardness, a column of flesh held aloft by internal pressure, a brewing storm held in check. Something strokes me, huge and soft and warm, and my entire length tingles with pleasure. My slit oozes more syrup and I spasm eagerly. It must be a hand? But it’s enormous! It grips my circumference and squeezes my body and I grow so hard its overwhelming, almost painful. The hand slips lower, fondles a part of me that dangles, heavy but loose, and so sensitive! Almost sickeningly so! I tighten and my entire form twitches. What have I become? Why does it feel so good? When will I finally get release?

I feel a weird squirming feeling and a pinch and I can see! I blink my eye, singular, and see a huge shaft of flesh jutting into my vision…

A cock!

A huge penis with a proud bulbous circumcised glans!

Huge, erect, straining, veiny, and twitching with a thunderous pulse, cock!

Jutting up and away from my viewpoint, like I’m aiming down a lewd canon. A hand sweeps into my view and grasps the cock… grasps me!

The cock!

I’m the cock!

I feel a queasy thrill! I’m a penis! Ms. Fortune’s penis! And that churning urgent weight is me! Her testicles! The horrible incredible pressure inside is cum! Cum! I want to cum! Need to cum! To ejaculate! To erupt! To explode!

Ms. Fortune’s hand pumps faster and faster and I spasm and squirm and spit lube from my tip! Her other hand drops into view and cups my glans, caresses it! Ohhhh! Jesus! Fucking! Christ! If the nuns could see me now! Ms. Fortune is panting! My host! My body! And her tits, our tits, are moaning and gasping! I squeeze my eye shut and feel the pressure inside me surge and buckle, break like death, and a furious rhythmic clenching! My eye is forced wide as my body bucks and kicks and I feel a tidal wave of ecstatic boil through the core of my form like an orgasmic tsunami! I feel and see thick white ropes of semen explode from the cock! From me! I’m cumming! All of me is cumming! Oh Fucking Christ! I’m a cumming cock!

I’m a cock!

Cock!

***

I’m a cock! My head is thrust back and I’m howling and grinding my engorged cunt on Halley-19s shaft and my own cock is cumming, spurting hot semen on my legs and on Ms. Fortune! Fuck! Fuck… “Oh Jesus Wept…” I say, tears in my eyes.

“Intense isn’t it?” Ms. Fortune asks, a twinkle in her human eye and infinite madness in the other.

“Yeah…” I manage (while deep inside I recoil).

“Imagine how good it would feel for a living cunt?”

“Wh-what?” (No! No fucking way!)

Ms. Fortune smiles, and runs her gigantic finger along the wet cunt on my face, “As soon as I saw your face I knew you were perfect.”

“Really?” (Please no!)

“I’ve been saving my flower for someone very very special.”

“You want me to be your pussy?” (Noooo!)

“I think YOU WANT TO BE MY PUSSY.”

I blink my eyes at the force of her ocular maelstrom. (No no no no!) Did I want to be her pussy? To merge with her cunt? To become nothing but labia and a clit and moist hole for fucking? (No! Fucking no!) To live for nothing but pleasure? The feeling of my whole being penetrated, stretched, fulfilled? To have purpose. To be free of anxiety and choices and problems. To be part of a gang. A family. A body. A beautiful hole to fuck… (NooooOOOoooo!!)

“Oh,” I blush, “it does sound pretty tempting…”

(Nonono!)

Ms. Fortune smiles, “I’d make sure you had an eye too, just like Halley-19 here.” She taps her pubic mound, “Right next to hers, like a little face.”

“That’s nice.”

(What the fuck!!!!)

“So?”

I frown and squirm, feel the warm pulse of arousal in my vaginas, the obscenely enlarged original between my thighs, the hybrid in my asshole, the disfiguring drooling slit on my face. I’m basically already a walking cunt. It’s what everyone sees when they look at me. Why not take it further? Go all the way? I take a deep breath and nod, “Yes, let’s do it! Make me your pussy!”

(No no no no no no!!!)

Ms. Fortune and her tits smile warmly. Halley-19’s eye scrunches in delight and her cock-body bucks between my thighs.

“Should we do it here?” I ask humping my hips along Halley-19, getting into the pussy mood.

Ms. Fortune shakes her head, “No we should head outside, no telling how big we’ll grow.”

Ms. Fortune gently lifts me off her and stands, pushes the exit open, and helps me climb outside into the Junk. The rusty steel is hot and rough under my bare feet and the sun is hot on my naked skin. I close my eyes and bask, aware this is the last time I’ll feel sunlight on my back.

(Noooo! Fucking run! Idiot! Asshole!)

Ms. Fortune stands a few feet from me, resplendent like a groom at the alter. She’s huge and muscular and her huge tits smile at me like proud groomsmen. Halley-19 is rock hard with excitement. Her best manhood. I take a step and walk to them like their bride.

(Nooo! Help! Fuck!!!)

I lower myself to my knees and pull back my armless shoulders, stare all the way up at Ms. Fortune, Halley-13, make an offering of myself. She nods, smiles, her left eye an insane universe that tugs at my essence like a magnet. Ms. Fortune lifts her balls up and aside and I see her cunt, her cute pink labia, slick with arousal but surprisingly small for how big she is. Tidy. Demure. I smile, I’m sure I’ll fix that.

(No! No! No! Noooo!)

I take a deep breath and rub my facial labia together. All it will take is one tribbilistic smooch and I’ll be her cunt!

(Nooooo!)

Forever!

(Nononono!!)

I lean forward and…

CRUNCH!

Ms. Fortune collapses under a metal projectile!

“Hu-Ahhh!!” I’m tackled by something! It clutches at me with hands and sharp limbs and it buzzes like a swarm. I look up and it’s a Halley wearing weird goggles and a metal helmet with antenna. “I got you!” She says brightly.

She shimmies down my body and I realize she’s small, like half my height, and has gossamer wings like an insect. She latches onto my leg and beats her wings with a powerful buzz. “Too heavy! Some help?”

Ms. Fortune growls and pushes the steel off her body. “Fee-fi-fo-fum!!”

“Hurry up!” Three more metallic insect creatures grab me, all of them little Halley’s. They all latch onto my legs, two apiece. “Ready?” The first one asks. “Yeah!” The rest chorus. “Go!” They collectively launch themselves in a tornado of beating wings. Together they manage to lift me off the ground and drag me into the air, dangling upside down by my legs. “We got you!”

“No!” I whine, “Put me down! I’m supposed to be with her!”

(Ignore me! Keep going!)

Ms. Fortune roars and kicks the ground, “She’s mine you buggy little assholes!”

I squirm and thrash and the insectoid Halleys desperately cling to me and fly away faster. “Just a bit further…”

… and suddenly I’m free! My mind is my own again! “Oh Jesus!” Oh fuck I was almost a cunt! That was too fucking close! Fuck! And poor Halley-19! “God…”

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” One of my rescuers flies into sight. She’s me, but halfling size, and some sort of hybrid of Earthling girl and metallic insect, like a cyborg honeybee. One of at least five cyborg honey-me’s carrying my naked ass away. Carrying me somewhere…

Oh fuck…

I’m still in trouble.

***

To be continued…

Flotsam Chapter 36: https://indigocarminefiction.blogspot.c … 6.html?m=1

Flotsam

Chapter 36: Prime

I’m standing in front of an open doorway carved into the red stone of the planet Flotsam. The heavy archway is decorated with a motif of interlocking triangles, like something from an ancient Earthling temple. The doorway is buried in a deep tangle of steel and plastic scarp, hidden within the thicket of the Junk Desert. If I hadn’t been led here, I doubt could have found it. What is this place? Why is it here? I swallow hard and glance behind me where six little honey-mes huddle, inexplicably repelled by this place, scared but bravely waiting for me to explore. My heart is racing and the bare skin of my armless shoulders prickles uncomfortably. Has it really all come down to this? Is this where the mystery of Halley-Prime’s disappearance will be answered? Fuck, I’m so completely not ready for this!

I take a deep breath.

I take another.

And another.

“Okay, Halley. You can do this.”

I square my truncated shoulders, flex my toes, and take a step, and another, and another, until I’m walking through the stone doorway and into a darkened tunnel. The stone ground is smooth, paved in bricks so perfectly fit that I can’t feel the joins with my bare feet. The tunnel ahead is dark and the backlight makes me cast a tall armless shadow, like a curvy cryptid. The light behind me fades away and I pass through shadow and into darkness. The air is still and heavy, but not stale, oddly clean from biological funk or rusty tang. I reach out with my telekinetic proprioception and sense the tunnel stretch out in front of me, the too perfect stonework, the shapes of gnomic geometric carvings, obelisks, and archways. I cautiously move forward, stumble down a short flight of stairs, and abruptly stop as the tunnel ends in a sudden, unexpected drop. I take a careful step back from the edge and grope at the chasm with my mind, stretching my mental senses as far I can. It’s a smooth shaft, maybe thirty feet deep, with a flat paved floor at the bottom. Fuck. “Jesus, what do I do now?”

I sigh and suck my facial labia, how can I get down this hole? It would be easy enough to rappel down if I had some rope or climbing equipment, instead of only bare skin and a spunky attitude. Of course, I’d probably need arms to use a rope… Wait. What if I used my telekinesis? I stopped a missile with my mind powers! Levitated an entire box of tools! Can I lift myself? Can I fly!?

I frown and feel up my body with my mental senses. I can sense my physicality like any other mundane object. I’m made of matter. This could work! I take a breath and will myself to rise into the air. Nothing much happens. I pinch my brows and purse my pussy and concentrate harder and feel a little less weight on my feet. I close my eyes and focus completely. Totally! Strain with all my strange mental capacity, and feel the ground drop away. In my proprioceptive mental map I’m levitating, just an inch or two off the ground, but I’m aloft. “Holy shit!”

I keep my eyes clamped closed, scared to lose control and break the spell. I actualize the idea of floating slowly forward toward the edge, over the edge, above the drop. Oh fuck, oh Jesus! But no, focus! Focus. I imagine my body slowly drifting down, gently falling, no, not falling, gliding! Gliding down the shaft, slowly, safely. Am I even really moving? Is this all pretend? I open my eyes and it’s totally dark and fuck! My attention slips! I’m falling! Shit!

“Oooph!”

I jar myself, landing hard on my feet, joints shock and complain, bounce-slip and tumble onto my ass. “Jesus.”

But the fall was only a few feet and bruised fanny aside, I’m okay. Holy shit, that worked! I actually flew! Triumph! I grab my body with my mind and lift myself back to my feet. “No stopping me.”

As soon as I’m upright light floods the new hallway, harsh and painfully bright! I instinctually want to shield my eyes, but I lack the limbs to do it. I squint and stumble forward, turn my head away, and peek at the stone walls with their interlocking triangular carvings to stay oriented. I awkwardly lurch and shuffle down the tunnel, call out: “Hello?”

“Hello Halley,” says an enormous version of my voice warmly. “Welcome.”

I stumble out of the tunnel into a chamber filled with blinding light and blasting furnace heat. I squeeze my aching eyes shut, but the light drills through my eyelids, burns spots into my vision. My bare skin flushes in the hot radiance. “Can you turn that down?”

“Of course, sorry,” A deep rumble like a predator chuckling. The light dims slightly and I blink my sore watery eyes open and find I’m standing in the presence of a huge sphinx made out of seething white fire. I gawk, this creature is easily twenty feet tall with feline paws large enough to crush me flat, incredible tits the size of my body, and a huge grinning Halley head with hair made of coiling, licking white flames and eyes as bright as stars. She has huge wings of light sprouting from her elephant-sized lioness body that radiate heat. She opens her mouth to speak and a blast of flame follows her words, “You finally found me!”

“Prime?”

She explosively laughs and lays down on her belly, her giant head resting on her feline paws. Her face towers over me. “Yep! The original, here in the fire.”

“Fucking hell!” I found her! Motherfucking Halley fucking Prime! And she’s a flaming Sphinx!?

“Awesome, right?” She stretches her wings and blows a gust of painfully hot wind at me.

I try not to cower, “What are you?”

“A goddess!”

“Really?”

She smiles playfully, eyelids shuttering the stars in her face. “I am a being of light and fire, the very stuff of stars.” She rumbles a purr, “I’d say that’s close enough.”

“Sure.”

“If you want to be technical, I’m Annunaki,”

Annunaki…? Where have I heard that before? The weird Sagans! The insurance policy! The mysterious advanced aliens responsible for the Halley clones! For me! Luminous Industries! “You’re Annunaki!?”

“We both are, since you’re made from a splinter of my Divine Essence. My little demi-goddess. My Starling.”

“Jesus…” If Halley-Prime was Annunaki all along, why was she on Earth? Why were we on Flotsam? Why was she being cloned over and over? “What is even happening?”

Halley-Prime’s tail lashes, leaving a burning trail in my vision like a comet. “Let me tell you a story: there once was an orphan Earthling girl. Her parents were killed in a car accident when she was only a child. For a time she was raised by asshole nuns, but then she was cast out into the world to fend for herself. She stumbled forward, somehow kept her feet, and took her first real steps into the world, found love, but was crippled with fear and depression. She fled from the world and hid in the dirty fringes of society, wallowed in poverty and privation. At least until one fateful night when she was abducted by aliens.” Halley-Prime licks her glowing lips with a tongue of flame, “The Earthling girl had a secret, one even she herself didn’t know. Her parents were gods, stars made flesh, sent to walk among the feral humans of Earth to judge the experiment of their freedom. While on Earth these gods kindled an offspring, an apparently human child, whom they abandoned when they faked their deaths and ascended back to the stars. Their Earthling child was left behind to experience true human life, to intimately learn what it meant to be an Earthling; her abandonment an important part of a grand experiment.” Prime blows fire from her nose, “The abduction was really a collection, a rescue attempt to bring the secret goddess child back home to her divine family.”

“But you crashed here, on Flotsam.”

“Even gods have trouble finding good help these days.”

I frown and think of that strange Tall White bounty hunter, the former Captain Flash or whatever. The abductor. Seemed more like a fucked up pirate than a divine servant. “So then what?”

“On Flotsam the Earthling girl knew something had gone wrong, that she had been done an injustice. At first she cowered in fear, but that nagging certainty that there was a cosmic reason for her plight grew within her. She sought out those who know secrets, alien overlords, criminals, those who travel in the wilderness, and learned about the world and herself. But the searching instinct went unfulfilled, grew into an obsession, became visions of a song or a light or a hidden library. Eventually her dreams resolved into a glowing sphere that promised her answers and gave her a location to seek deep in the Junk Desert. Leaving everything behind, the Earthling girl embarked on a quest to the most forsaken badlands of this planet and found the Beacon. She embraced its light and her true nature was revealed to her. Within the quickening of stars, the Earthling girl Ascended into her true Annunaki godhood.”

“And you turned into a giant star sphinx?”

Prime purrs, “I’m a being of purest energy, this form is a corporeal convenience.”

“Why a sphinx?”

“You’d prefer a burning bush?”

I stare up at Halley’s fiery eyes and suck my labia thoughtfully, “So if you became a goddess, why stay hidden? Why not tell Clem where you are? Why make all these clones? Why do I exist?”

“You exist because I created you, my Little Starling, for the same reason I created all your sisters: I’m conducting my own experiment.”

“Experiment!?”

“The reason I was abandoned on Earth was to live an authentic human life and bring these experiences back to the Annunaki.” Prime’s eyes blaze, “But what a sorry replicate we turned out to be: abusive childhood, poverty, mental illness, isolation. I didn’t think Halley Rochelle Houston was a very useful dataset.” She tilts her head, “So I decided to extend the study, to make more Halleys and set them free, to observe them living their lives, and wait for them to carry their experiences back to me.” She moues, “Sadly my wayward creations became distracted, or lost, or lacked the fortitude to finish their pilgrimage. But, well, failed experiments are still data.” She smiles like a bonfire, “You, my 24th replicate are the first of my Little Starlings to find me. Congratulations.”

“What! The actual fuck!”

“You disapprove?”

“You dumped two dozen clones of yourself, naked and confused, on an alien planet! Just to watch us suffer! For your own what? Intellectual curiosity?” I stamp my foot. “You fucking abandoned Clem!”

“Is that any way to talk to your Maker?”

“You’re a fucking monster!”

“For kindling your existence? For giving you free will? For letting you make dumb mistakes and live with the consequences? I’m a goddess not a nursemaid.”

“You’re cruel.”

“I prefer mercurial.”

“And what about Clem?”

The huge Halley sphinx sighs and looks wistful. “I am sorry about Clem. I miss him, her, whatever, but I’m immortal and made of cosmic fire, and Clem’s… just an Earthling. How could it work?” She frowns, “No one ever said godhood comes without a cost.”

“You could still let her know you’re okay.”

“That would spoil my experiment.”

I unclench my toes and stop myself from calling Prime an asshole. “Okay,” I say through gritted pussy, “How does it all work? You created Luminous Industries to create your clones?”

“Mmm, not exactly. The Annunaki have had a front on Flotsam since the beginning, but it was mostly dormant. I gussied it up a bit and added the lovely Sagans as my proxies, and yes, I used LI as a prop to explain how new Halleys keep appearing in the universe.”

“So the Annunaki don’t actually offer Resurrection Insurance?”

“As a salable service? No, that’s a fabrication for my little game. But Annunaki clones do happen; we deities have our chosen ones and an occasional resurrection really pops with the mortals.”

“So you make a new Halley with only Earth memories, dump her in Clem’s bedroom, and then wait for them to come find you?”

“I watch them too. Closely.”

“Sure, and then what? What makes you clone the next one?”

“I observe the current Halley has given up on the pilgrimage and decide the experiment is over.”

“That’s it? They stop searching for you?”

“Yes,” her huge eyes glow savagely, “that’s it.”

“Christ…” That’s so infuriatingly simple! My entire existence is a narcissistic experiment? A game of divine hide and seek played with a smug fireball hiding out in her garbage ziggurat. I’m just a new playmate to replace the last one who got bored of looking. What a stupid reason for my whole story! “You became a god and you’re wasting time on this bullshit?”

Halley-Prime stands up, suddenly a towering monstress, heat and light flaring from her leonine form. “You lack perspective. I’m immortal, what are a few decades spent in self-examination?” She taps her paw on the ground, unsheathing laser claws, “Besides, you Starlings put on such an amusing show.”

“Fuck you.”

She just grins.

I sigh, impotently.

“So I found you. What now?”

“Now my Little Starling, you rejoin me and become part of my Flame.”

“What?”

There is a flash of intense light and heat and a condensed humanoid form has replaced the sphinx. It’s Halley, but idealized, a perfect version of myself but made from painfully bright light. Her face is lean and without blemish, her tits perky and perfect, her stomach toned and legs long, her hair a brilliant cascade of artful flame. She has wings of light like an angel and a lioness tail ending in a gout of fire. Prime is so beautiful that she hurts to gaze upon. “It’s time for you to come home and deliver your data.”

“You want me to… merge with you?”

Halley smiles immaculately and inside I ache, “Yes.”

“But I’ll cease to exist, won’t I?”

“You were only ever a tiny part of my soul given flesh. This is what you are for, your purpose.” Prime steps closer and almost touches me. I cringe as I feel a dangerous heat from her fingertips. “You’ll live on forever in me, your awareness and memories cherished for eternity.”

“What if I don’t want to? What if I’d rather keep living my life, independently?”

Prime pulls back her hand  and strokes the inferno that is her hair, “You have free will, but why refuse this gift?” She smiles gently, “Look at you? You’re disfigured and broken, armless and faceless, doomed to live your short mortal life like a vulgar parody.” She gestures at her astonishingly perfect body, “I can burn away your sins and corruption, your anxiety and depression, your perverse body and warped mind, remake you whole as part of my perfection. You could exist forever, transcendent and enlightened! You would be a goddess!”

I take a nervous step back and hunch my empty shoulders. Did I actually want this? To dissolve into Halley-Prime and become, what? Some fond memories? A little independent voice inside her mind? A warm glow? A divine aspect? It would be so easy. Just say yes to Prime and let her melt away all my fear and sadness and all the weird stares. It wouldn’t be giving up, it would be satisfying my purpose. I’m hardly even a real person.

I could be free.

But no, I am a person! Even if I’m just a clone or a fragment of an alien goddess or whatever the fuck I’m made of, I’m Halley-fucking-24! I exist! Sure, I’m a freak with an anxiety disorder, but I’m learning to get by. So I have to wear a mask in public and my face is mostly pussy, and fuck, I actually like the armless thing, even if I know it was forced on me. It isn’t perfect, but what is?  What living person is totally happy? Despite everything, I’m doing pretty okay.

I take another step away from Prime.

What about all my people? What would they do if I disappeared? How would they feel? I just reconnected with Clem, how much would it hurt to lose me already? I couldn’t do that to her! I love her, and we’ve just started learning what that means. And Bluebell! My beloved whatever we are; lovers, friends, partners… How could I repay all her kindness and generosity by abandoning her? She deserves my loyalty and love for long as she’ll have me. All my friends too: Freya and HAL-E and Hank and Halley-4 and 16 and 22, and maybe even Pussy. Would it really make me happy to abandon them? Forever? Don’t I owe them something too? Even Lately; sure it was maybe just a fling, but don’t I want to learn if it’s more? I am so fucking lucky to be surrounded by so many amazing people. How could I leave them?

I retreat another step from Prime.

I’ve been looking for a home, for a family, for as long as I can remember, before I even existed even. Maybe I had it in that trailer park on Earth without appreciating it? I definitely have something now. It’s on a weird planet with sapients more varied and strange than I ever could have predicted, but it’s amazing. I have a place. I’ve found my people. Why would I give it all up? Just because some glowing bitch hiding in a garbage cave claims to be my lord and savior? So what if she made me? This is my fucking life, and I intend to live it.

I square my shoulders and shake my head: “No.”

“You would refuse me?”

“I like who I am and the life I’ve built for myself. I’m not willing to give it up.”

“You would forsake divinity? Immortality?”

“Yes.”

The heat from Prime flares and I can feel my skin crisp with sunburn. Her perfect face looks hurt: “Reject me a third time and I’ll rescind my offer. This is your last chance.”

“I’m not interested. No.”

Halley-Prime pinches her nose and frowns, “This isn’t how I thought this was going to go…”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, I am.”

Halley-Prime’s humanoid body flares like a supernova!

A searing wall of heat and light!

I am consumed!

Obliterated…

…

To be continued