2 - Oral Event Horizon
"I'm going to be calling you by name to summon you, so tell me your name."
Eyes down, subby hench-voice GO.
"I want you to tell me my name. I didn't take a name so you could name me."
I'll be enquiring into the practicalities of this later, if I can--
"Remind me later to ask you how you got all grown up without getting a name."
ARGH I NEED A RESPECT-TERM FOR YOU SO BAD! Subby-eyes and hench-voice help...
"When is later?"
"When we get someplace safe enough to talk after Limbo...and it won't ruin the moment."
BLEH I want to call you something that'll put me in my place!
"Are you going to name me now?"
I look her up and down, considering names, and strangely it feels like even before I pose the question I know what the answer is going to be...
"No, because I'm going to do it in the ritual. I do have one in mind though."
“That was fast.”
“I dunno, it just felt obvious.”
Fuck, what did you pick, is it going to be humiliating or pretty or both?
Oooh I hope both!
"Ooh! I have another idea, would you like to hear it?"
Hehe spill. Squish my breasts over my arms and smile.
I grin, but raise my eyebrows.
"What if you named this, too?"
Point to the sheath.
"Good idea. Give it to me."
Kneel down and present it on my palms for you. Unf definitely doing this again...
I grin, and lift the sword to examine it. You’d expect something more phallic from a succubus armorer, but then maybe I’ll be non-surprised when I draw it. Assuming the scabbard is close-fitting, it’s a mid-length, straight blade, heavy and broad like a western sword, but the point of the scabbard is one-sided like a katana. The handle is plain, leather wrapped, and fits my hand with a sort of familiar perfection like I’ve held it a million times already (there's still something weird about it that I can't place). No jewels or anything, just a bit of steel-colored metal protecting the end of the scabbard and the pommel. The hilt is plain and made of something with a grain like glass-filled plastic or horn (from what, I wonder), a small handguard like more like a kitchen tool than a weapon.
What do you call a sword? Ulfbehrt? How generic. BLLOOOOODDD REAVER. Friend of mine has a boffer sword he calls Faux Hammer. Narsil. Name it like I’m a goblin? Basher. Biter. Nah. Right direction, though. Name it like I’m possibly about to marry a succubus or something. Hmmm...
You get that ‘mwah hah’ look I’ve seen looking back at us in the glare of your monitor sometimes before dropping into the thing where you can change reality in the game you’re playing. So easy to get you inspired in those moments...
“Got a name in mind?”
"Yeah. I'm going to tell you something to call me, too. Is there anything you'll object to?"
"Only if you give me something that doesn't put me in my place enough."
"I'll try to be good and dominating. Anything else before we do this? You're going to be standing a bit. Do you want to rest your feet first?"
"I'm ready, and I don't have anything else before we start."
I stand, leaving the sword on the bed.
"Notice where I left the sword, because you're going to bring it to me and you might be distracted while you're doing it."
"You left it on the bed."
I move to loom over her where she stands. The room is only a few steps across, and the floor-space is barely sufficient, but it'll work, if:
"Stand over there."
Spin to show you my ass walking away, step step, spin bouncy back.
I have read some things.
"I can use whatever you want. I'll remember even if I'm freaking out. I don't really need them, though."
"Are you sure you'll remember?"
"Uhuh! Would you like me to prove it?"
"Can I read one of your books?"
"Will you choose for me?"
Of course. I pluck A Fire Upon The Deep from where the festivities have knocked it to the floor, and hand it to her.
Open. Fliiiiiiiiiiiiip. Give it back.
"Now ask me what's on any page."
Eyebrows raised, I drop it open and choose an arbitrary word.
"Page 613, second paragraph, thirteenth word of the paragraph."
613, 613, flipflipflip there. Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineteneleventwelvethirteen.
Omifuck your face I'm so glad you asked about safewords!!
I heft the novel's thousand-page bulk, library wrapper crackling in my grip.
"Did you just read this entire book?"
"I saw it, but I didn't read it. I remember every page but I'd have to concentrate for a while to know the story. It sounds cool, though!"
"Now what's this about not needing safewords?"
I can hear the change creeping into my voice: somehow, somewhere in this conversation, my questions have started to be commands without needing to be phrased explicitly as commands.
"If you break me I'll just heal, and I like it rough, so please don't hold back."
"Even if I like, broke your neck? Not that I'm planning to!"
Nod nod nod.
I wonder what that'd feel like? Do my bones break if I fall hard enough? HAH, I know the answer! They bounce!
"Um, it'd stretch instead of breaking, but if you could break it, I'd heal."
Shaking my head with wonder, I toss the book aside, imagining having her narrate the part I haven't read yet as we curl in bed.
"I'm letting safewords slide, but only because you claim to be indestructible. We're going to do the fight-over-your-clothes thing. Does that change your mind?"
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
I hold out my hands.
Wait for you to order me.
"Take my hands."
Smile all sweet and take them.
"You're adorable." I squeeze her hands tightly. "Look, whatever happens next, I want you to know I think you're great and I really like you."
I love you too.
"Oh, last question. Do you care if your bikini survives this? Or is it indestructible like you?"
"It'll break, and I don't care if you break it."
I can see us both thinking she'll be left with nothing to wear if I do break it.
"Do you consent to become mine, to do as I say, whatever I say, and be forced if you resist me? If the answer is no, to any of these questions, say so, but otherwise just listen."
I'm listening, see? Listening!!
"Do you consent for your body to belong to me, to take however I want, whenever I want, and to have no way of withholding it from me?"
Listening and super wet now but listening!!
"Do you consent to kneel at my feet and call me Owner and tell me exactly how happy belonging to me makes you, whenever I command it, wherever I command it?"
ARGH JUST LISTENING IS SO HARD!!
I wait a few pounding heartbeats to see if she'll say anything, but she just squeezes my hands and looks at me intently.
"When I let your hands go, I'm going to give you some orders. I want you to resist them until you know this is real, and then tell me you're mine and call me Owner, which is the only thing you'll call me from then on. Understand?"
HOLY FUCK THAT'S BRILLIANT!
How? How did you find a way to make this into a real rape scene so fast?
Fuck it not complaining also not saying anything because I'm going to get claimed without ever saying yes and that is hot.
She doesn't make a sound, but her vibrating excitement speaks volumes.
Achingly slowly, watching her carefully for any sign of a second thought, I let her hands slip from mine.
"Take off your bikini."
I...no, I'm supposed to resist, why are you just standing there, self?
I raise my eyebrows and fold my arms, trying to project impatience that belies my excitement to get to rip it off her.
Oooooh I'm waiting for you to make the first move. Duh.
Fuck so wet.
When she still doesn't comply, I reach out to throw the straps of her top off her shoulders--
I...fuck move self, you're supposed to resis--ooh hot my breasts are free--
I grasp the neck-thong of her bikini and pull, and it naps with surprising ease, then move my hands down onto her breasts to crumple the triangles of fabric into my hands as gropingly as possible, and the thin thong that connects them in front snaps like thread. All through this she stands motionless, gasping at my touch and breathing hard, eyebrows peaked with shocked pleasure, but otherwise passive. The fabric crumbles as I pull at it, disintegrating into glitter that showers down from my violating hands but sticks to nothing.
Her breasts pop free with a bounce, seeming to expand as they're liberated, a mental image I’ll carry with me like a warm summer day for the rest of my life. She’s got the most amazing round breasts, and they bounce like somehow gravity hasn’t noticed that they’re bare now. Big purply-dark nipples and areolas stand out, hardening visibly as I drink her in and she drinks in my ogling - it feels thin, just a whisper compared to the full voice of making out, but apparently physical contact isn’t absolutely necessary for her to feed.
Her nipples are vivid, as big as nickels, standing out like shiny candy against huge, invitingly-textured areolae. The overall effect is almost like an old photograph, but instead of sepia the base color is the electric purple of her eyes that narrow in pleasure and stay nailed to mine.
I step back a moment to admire them, aching to fondle, but now just as curious what's waiting under her bottoms.
Naked....wait, I'm supposed to not be naked....cover myself with my arms, there.
Folding her arms across her chest to cover herself just creates massive cleavage that balances the almost disappearance of her nipples. This won't stand, but bottoms first. Her bottoms are held together by little U-shaped silver clasps with long slipknot-tails that ride the swells of her hips, but I wrench the bikini apart at first one unresisting hip and then the other, anyway, and yank the tiny scrap of covering from between her legs. Again, it disintegrates, crumbling to sparkles. The bikini, when I've denuded her, is not just removed, but gone.
I'm suppose to not be naked right now...cover...I can't do any better I don't know how to not be naked blush I'm so wet it's dripping through my fingers, I hope it's okay, I can't make it stop...
Her pussy and mound stand out, glistening with wetness shinier than the glitter-stuff that covered them, somehow soft and prominent, displayed - her thighs, though curvaceous enough to rub when she walks, curve back to leave her pussy exposed even when she crosses her legs to hide herself, bare and smooth in the absolute way only a species that just doesn't grow pubic hair could manage.
She languidly moves a hand to cover it leaving her breasts even more ineffectually hidden, then spreads her wings and tries to wrap them around herself but the geometry only lets her put them parallel along her sides, and I let her get there and discover her wings are no help here and feel that her pussy is dripping wet and blush about it before moving in again.
What? Resist! I'm suppose to resist I'm supposed to make you force me! Resist, self!
Slowly, gently, inexorably, I fold her wings away and brush back the hair that's fallen over her shoulders, then take her wrists and pry her arms away from her nakedness, fold them around behind her.
Oh fuck I'm naked and you're looking at me and I still can't move!
Fuck your eyes, they just, I can't...I...fuck...
Something strange is happening, I can almost see her thoughts come to a standstill as I let her unresisting wrists go and she keeps them where I've put them.
Finally, I step back to admire her, and she stands, poised, just as I've left her. When she still doesn't move, I come close again, and lay my palm against her soft hot cheek, then trace it slowly down until I'm cupping her breast, as some distant part of my mind notes that this is officially the most epic first time to second base story in the history of mankind.
Yyyummmm boobgroping...oooh...gasp nipple oooh WHY CAN'T I MOVE
The soft warmth and the way her nipple hardens almost instantly at my touch register as a practically religious (hah) experience, so I lean into it, squeezing and feeling her perfect breast, pinching and stroking the nipple, as I look into her lustful-looking and yet still-passive face.
She's breathing hard, obviously overwhelmed by my touch, and yet:
Drop my eyes.
"Because I'm yours, and I always have been, Owner. I can't resist you. I understood your order but my body just knows it belongs to you."
Her voice is barely a whisper, soft with surrender.
"Look me in the eye and tell me."
Ulp...eyes up eep you still have your dom-eyes on...I can do it though I can be good look.
Louder I should be louder this time.
"I'm yours, Owner, and I always have been, and I can't resist because even if you tell me to I understand what you're doing but my body just knows it belongs to you!"
"And do you have a choice about it anymore?"
Shake shake shake shake see I really don't.
Without further ado, I seize her by a horn and drag her into a hard kiss.
What is this? Is this me or her? I hadn’t meant to be quite so violent but I know I’m not doing anything but being intimidating. It’s electrifying like a first kiss and it’s as if each move opens the floodgate on this dark rushing river inside me just a little more but there’s no sense of losing control or even the drunk feeling of being too rattled to have good judgment. I’m still me, just not the me I know.
Hup! Didn’t realize you had my horn, mmm, okay, we can kiss...fuck no what's happening I can’t squeeze a drop from you but I’m still cranking you up and I can’t stop myself. Can’t do much of anything but kiss right at the moment...unh...gotta stop you before you burn yourself...
Yeah, not happening. I should have warned you about this part, spikes...
Oh god, all that life building up in you. Smells so good. Please Owner please let me beg you for some please...
I have her by the horn from behind, head bent back to kiss me, wings folded between her shoulder blades and my arms, other hand wrapped around her breast and feeling her up roughly and there’s no doubt that she’s into this. She kisses back with a crazy desperation and moans into my mouth when I let her breast go and grab her by the soft, slick, wet, warm pussy, probing for her clit, her tail tightening where it’s encircled my thigh as I explore.
Power, fury, strength, something builds in me like fire. Why isn’t she drinking? It feels good when she drinks, but this feels good too. If I tell her to drink now, will she?
“Drink.” I mouth it around the kiss, then tighten my grip between her legs just a little roughly and force my tongue into her, trying to visualize taking some of the energy I’m full of and pushing it into her mouth.
She arches against me, screaming a moan into my mouth at the top of her inhuman voice, harmonics working their way into my bones and making every (every) part of me buzz, and bursts into light.
Stars, galaxies, grey night sky. I don’t care if I am going to hell for this, if she’s from hell I don’t want heaven.
I kiss her a minute more as the light fades and I stabilize at merely awesome. Eventually she seems to subside a little, so I break the kiss and spin her to face me, pushing her to her knees.
Unh. I think I’ve just been an orgasm. I’ve heard that you can fuck someone with energy by going over unity without drinking and then letting them have it, but that was insane. I didn’t know a human could force-feed you like that. My sparkles sting like anything but damn if it isn’t worth it. Ooogh, I feel drunk...
Mm...being pushed down HI COCK holy fuck I need your cock down my throat NOW. I was supposed to...umm...mmm, feel so owned it's getting hard...to...orders NEED ORDERS!
Once she’s down there, she just kind of sways a little bit, staring in an orgasmic-looking daze either at or through my cock where it’s tenting, rock hard, in my shorts.
This wasn't the plan but I need it and we just spent a good half hour declaring it my right. I tug the soft gym shorts aside, popping my dick free, and it’s immediately clear that yes, that’s what she’s looking for. Definitely not looking through me now. I reach for her head to stroke her hair and get a handful of horn instead, so I use it to gently lift her face to look at me, and she fixes hazy, half-mast eyes on mine and licks her lips.
...feels...like ocean waves...please do it...
There’s a trembling, expectant feeling, like this is some kind of departure point, like we’re both waiting for me to either walk away or hit play on the song that ends the world, and then I’ve brought her lips to my tip and she’s licking hungrily with a slick, warm tongue. My hand is just resting on her horn, not gripping, but she seems to want to just follow my guidance, so I bit by bit bring her down my shaft, and she closes her lips around me as I pass them. Despite being obviously stoned from glowing before she’s just as good with her tongue now as when we make out.
How far can she go? I push further gingerly and she just takes it. With an inch or two left to go, I can feel myself hitting the soft soft back of her throat, but she just sort of shifts position a little and then it’s like the inside of her mouth closes wetly and warmly around my cock and pulls. I study her face as best I can before it's buried in my pubes, but she looks even more blissful than when she was licking.
...mmmmmh you fit perfectly...
Unbox...mmm....fffuck eep no I want that SO BAD! Owner I'm ready for you to take my...mmmm...
A distant part of me makes a note to feel silly later for expecting a succubus to have a gag reflex.
I expect I’ll want to pull back and make her fuck me with her mouth, but there’s no need: her tongue definitely isn’t pinned in place despite how full her mouth seems, and her throat is trying to swallow me, so I just let her stay there and suck on me, moaning softly and blissfully, her stars glittering, now reflective instead of emissive.
I’d have thought that having life-force or whatever it is drawn out of me would hurt, or at least feel more weird than good, but it’s amazing, enlivening the part of me she’s pulling it out through as if it’s granting just a little extra aliveness as it goes. There’s a rhythm, pulling and letting it build, in it that’s just a little different then what she’s doing with her tongue and so the two phase against each other like harmonizing notes, alternately emphasizing one and then the other. It’s...it’s...the cum feels like fire as it throbs up my cock in one huge burst. She can feel it coming because she lets out a high little ‘mmf!’ as it starts and then grabs hold of my ass and presses her face into me and sucks physically and metaphysically for all she’s worth, overcharging everything I feel.
...cum yus cum...finally...ooh
I’ve never come this long before. I don’t know if it’s that she’s feeding at the same time, or some kind of succubus superpower to keep me going, or if she’s just good at sucking, but at the point where I should finish it feels like some second wave takes me and I keep coming for what feels like long, amazing minutes, and we’re both trembling when I’m done. Slowly, carefully, I withdraw from her, savoring the warmth of her mouth on me. There’s a drop of come clinging to my tip as I withdraw that she darts forward and licks off, savoring it like some expensive desert.
How to make a guy feel special in one step.
SLURP! That's all your cum. Just wait now.
There’s a heartbeat where she just looks up at me, sated, shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of her otherwise soft mouth, eyes completely unguarded while my post-orgasmic mind reboots.
We were...right. Hand under her chin this time, I lift her face to look at mine.
"You're mine, and your name is Lyra."
Oooh, pretty, yay...
"Bring me the sword, Lyra. In your teeth. On hands and knees. Make sure I get a look at your pussy on the way."
Being named Instrument is kind of awesomely humiliating...yay it's pretty and humiliating...pretty humiliating hehe...
Flop, hoooh loooopy hehe whee okay turn where you can see my cunt and sssssslink over to the bed. Reach--
Um...BOING bounce up on the bed with my forepaws and nuzzle for the sheath...pfeh blankets THERE GOT IT CHOMP.
She's equally as spectacular coming as going, breasts swaying obscenely between her arms as she crawls the short distance.
Hi again Owner.
Owner Owner Owner hehe I'm so high right now...passive, like I'd just wait for you forever...
Up on hind legs to present.
This wasn't the plan, but it's too adorable to reject. I take the sword from her mouth, turn it vertically, and hand it back to her.
"Hold this for me to draw. Reverently."
...yes, sword, sword good...
She gains a sort of drunkenly serious expression, and presents it quite acceptably.
If I don’t feel like enough of a badass to draw this sword well now, I never will. I take a solid hold of the scabbard and handle in opposite hands, steadying it.
“With this sword, I’ll make sure nothing takes you from me.”
I draw the blade with a flourish, and I should be expecting it but the crackle of purple-edged black fire that arcs between scabbard and sword and then settles glowering around the blade still sends a chill down my spine. I bring the burning blade down between us, inspecting it. I’d expected curves from a sword given to me by a succubus, but the blade has one straight edge that ends in an angled point that reflects the shape of the scabbard. Actually, the whole blade is made of straight lines and angles and seems to be carved from some shiny black ceramic like obsidian. The back edge is wickedly serrated with backward-canted teeth like an oversize bowie knife, and inlaid into the blade in silver are intertwining feminine shapes I shall assuredly be inspecting in excruciating detail later, the only curves to be found anywhere on the blade.
If there is later. We need a magic--ahem, consecrated--sword for a reason.
What else am I going to call a sword given to me by a succubus that’s shaped like the devil’s own meat cleaver?
Sword. It’s not a sword, it’s a knife, massive and stone. Stone Knife. I’ve read my Narnia, the significance isn’t lost on me. What is going on here?
The liquid "fire" around the blade seethes and coruscates, and as I tear my eyes away from the combination of Lyra kneeling and gazing up at me with glistening lips that've just been around my cock still parted and the sword's thermally and optically impossible fire I see that the world around us is dark, reduced to outlines, while she and I glow silver and gold respectively.
This sword is something who's job, as wicked as it looks, is more nuanced than rending flesh.
I slowly sheathe it, the fire splashing around the scabbard like a liquid being scraped off, take it from her unresisting hands and throw the strap over my shoulder, not trusting my narrow hips and lack of belt to keep it in place.
"Okay, time to go."
She just looks at me with doe eyes and blinks once, languidly.
A minute shake of the head. She just looks peaceful, not hurt or upset. She’s there, but it’s like nothing can stir her. Did the spell go wrong somehow? Did I hurt her with the sword so close? Its light was like a hymn to honor what she and I are, but maybe--
Somehow, I know it's nothing of the sort.
“Lyra.” She fixes her eyes on me, sort of a little smile, expectant. She recognizes the name at least. Maybe getting us moving will bring her back a little?
"Can you stand up for me?"
Nod nod nod!
But she doesn't move, and her insistence on obeying only direct orders stirs my cock even though I've just come.
Her passivity belies the eagerness with which she follows orders as she bounds to her feet with a breasty bounce like a coiled spring released.
"If you can understand me, tell me your name."
"Yes, you are. Kiss me."
Crouch SRPING glomp and kissmmf...
Before I can lean down to her level, soft limbs wrap me and I'm teetering under her shockingly light weight as her feathery-hot breath washes across my face followed by a hungry, intense kiss--two kisses: her pussy is a warm, wet mouth spread open against my midriff where she wraps her legs around me.
She persists until I manage to form "that's enough" around the probing of her slippery, curious tongue, then just sits in my arms smiling back at me.
"I thought you were all zoned out."
Shake shake shake!
"I just feel SUPER owned, Owner. I'm awake, I just kind of only want to do what I'm told right now."
Spikes, what if it's more than wanting to? What if my mind caught up to my body?
Please oh please let it be that. That'd be so hot.
My heart is in my mouth as I formulate the next order, and not just because of her breasts squeezed into a taut pillow between us, or her pussy kissing hopefully just above my cock, or even her proclamation of wanting to obey me--
"Shield failure immanent."
In my spiritual ears Majel Barret's voice echoes through the room, complete with Enterprise-D-computer-beep warning-buzzer.
Apparently all that imagining myself as a member of the bridge crew hasn't gone to waste.
"Cessation of instantiating wish. To sustain shield, continue preparations for departure."
Oooooh. I want to go too, Owner.
Why leaving my family a goodbye note doesn't count as preparations for departure is something I'll have to examine later, but the "computer" is right, it felt like a diversion.
I shift my grip on Lyra to help her down.
"Off. It's time."
SSssssssslide down you unnnnf your cock is right there rrghh down not fuck nnngh there.
Snuggle my Owner.
I grin down, laughing silently as she smilingly presses her naked warmth against me, and wrap her in my arms.
"I know you're like, in just-doing-as-you're-told mode right now. I love it, and I want more, but if I understand how dangerous it's going to be once I take down this forcefield I need you alert and taking initiative if you think it'll help protect us. Can you do that for me? We can get back to this the minute we're safe, and I definitely have some things I'm going to make you submit to once we escape."
Yeah. Yeah I can do it.
Nod nod nod. Serious now.
"Is there aaaaanything else you can think of we should talk about or do before I take down the forcefield."
Thinking...umm...scan my notes dom rescue no liturgical hacking already did that ooh here.
"If you can find your guardian creature you can tell it to protect me, too. That'll make sure if you get injured I'll have time to heal you."
"Every human has their own guardian creature they can project when they're like, about to die. If you can find it inside yourself you can make sure I'm in your family to it so it'll keep me safe, too. That way if you are about to die it'll protect me while I do that life-raising thing you just showed me to you."
If she can do that on demand, I'm never going to worry about a stubbed toe again.
"That sounds awesome. How do I find mine?"
"What kind of monster would you be, if you were one?"
"I know what kind I'd sleep with, now?"
"I know, but what kind would you be?"
This, surprisingly, takes some thought. Nothing immediately comes to mind.
"If you're stuck we might be able to figure it out by reading for it?"
"Y'know, Deep Images, what's the Earthling thing--tarot!"
Oh. Duh. Of course you don't have a deck.
"I just keep thinking of 'guardian angel'."
"Oh! It's probably that, then."
"Aren't we not really expecting help from one of God's servants?"
"It's not his, it's yours. You can tell because to reach it you'll like, think inside, instead of outside. I wonder if your guardian cast the forcefield? I didn't think it could if it was like some kind of animal, but if it's an angel I bet it totally can--I mean, right? You're thinking scary Space Trilogy angel, not cute, right?"
"Yeah, exactly. So is this like the forcefield controls?"
"Remember, inside. It's part of you. Don't reach for anything external or like, other."
It takes me a moment to understand it, because a part of me is still looking for a creature, something with a metaphorical physical form, but, yes, it's there, this strange aphysical abstract sense of power, woven throughout me waiting to unfold in the utter extremis of death's door. It's weird, and in that very weirdness, comforting and familiar.
It's an angel, Space Trilogy style. It's shape is Angel, not something physical. Of course my spirit animal is an abstract force of protection instead of something from the natural world.
Protect this little succubus for me, I tell it. I can feel the knowledge to do this filtering into a previously-unknown depth of my soul like an extreme case of telling myself to remember something, and then, something strange:
"I think it was already configured to protect you."
"Aww! Did you like dreaming with me so much you unconsciously adopted me?"
"I think so. In any case, found and done. Any other superpowers I have I should know about?"
"You can change Limbo like it's a fantasy if you can be louder about what you think it is than everyone else, but it gets weird if you're too quiet, so be sure you're really the loudest before you try. "
"That sounds dangerous."
"It's like, the ultimate last resort, but we might be able to just like, delete something really bad."
"Got it. What else?"
"I think you're ready, Owner."
"Cool. Let me get dressed and we'll go."
"Do you have to?"
"Have to what?"
She's making an excellent argument with her hips swaying against mine, and I suppose clothes probably are a bit gauche in a succubus' house...
"Um...what will I need to bring?"
My toothbrush is in the bathroom, on the other side of the army of nightmares we've just created this sword to fight.
Grind grindy grind do you get my point.
I grin and breathe hard, still steeling myself not to come.
"Other than that."
"We can get you new stuff when we get there if you want. You won't like, need clothes if you don't want to. I usually go naked. I only got dressed because I was going to Earth."
Seducey seduce seduce.
Considering this, I cast my eyes around my room: toys I've outgrown. Books that aren't technically mine, and which I've read. There's no hope of obtaining food or water without braving the hallway, and I don't have any stashed here. Even my shoes are downstairs. I'll miss the radio control airplanes I've spent months building, but those are downstairs too...and I doubt they have flying fields on her planet.
Finally, I shrug back. There's nothing here I actually want to take with me.
"You're sure we won't need clothes?"
"If you get injured I'll be able to heal you faster if you're naked like that. I don't want to be figuring out your pants while you bleed out."
"I can't believe that makes practical sense...and you of course have nothing to wear, anyway. I hope you don't mind."
"Succubus. Modesty level zero. Let's go!"