CHAPTER 2
“Welcome back, Cherry.” The booth bot always sounds like I’m its favorite person in the galaxy with that greeting. “There are ten remaining clients who have requested an introduction to human participants.”
A triumphant burble flutters through the invisible speakers and a little light show swirls around me.
“Do you have any preferences this time?” the bot asks “Would you prefer to avoid repeats?”
Inside the booth, the little voice telling me I “shouldn’t” is quieter. “Actually, can I get only tentacles this time, please?”
“Affirmative. You can have anything you like… as long as it is on offer.”
The light show flicks on and I assume it’s Phantom’s attempt at making the transition from empty booth to cock-splosion a little more fun.
Previously the walls and floor were full—I still think that was a “gotta make sure she comes back” bonanza. This time, there’s one set of tentacles on each of the four walls, and that’s it.
But it’s more than enough.
I know some other women like to take on multiple clients at once, but I’m not there yet, so I’m going to choose carefully.
The squares around them glow like I’m at a private art exhibition and they’re all tempting me to buy.
Blue, purple, yellow… and there’s a set that looks like it could almost be Agan’s.
But only for a moment.
Pink and purple, and yellow and orange. They pulse through all the colors of the spectrum in a soft wave.
I feel like a fish being lured by a deep sea predator’s bioluminescence.
I keep looking back at the one that first reminded me of Agan, even as I brush my fingers along the others, stroking to see which are smooth and hard.
The blue one tingles a little.
Purple is textured in a way I don’t hate.
Yellow might actually be an octopus—slimy and stretchy.
And last…
There’s a faint pulse of heat with each color shift… I think I remember saying something about color shifts and pulsations… they could be the same species.
I let them wrap their tentacle around my hand, touching, testing…
No one will ever know if I pretend for a little bit.
“My basic info packet, please.”
“Species: Opodean. Gender Identity: Male. Earth age equivalence: forty-five.”
I don’t actually know how old Agan is in Earth equivalent years… He doesn’t seem like a forty-five-year-old, though.
“Six visits to Phantom’s previously. Two booth participations.”
Which means he knows what he’s allowed to do and what will get him banned.
The booth bot keeps us safe, but it’s a relief to know that he shouldn’t try to cross any lines.
“Would you like a more comprehensive information packet?”
“No, thank you.” I’ve already made up my mind. I don’t need anything else to play with him.
Anything more would ruin the illusion except… “Are there any restrictions for his species?”
“No restrictions.”
“Can you add that to the normal information I get each time, please?”
“Added.”
“Thank you. I know who I want.” And I know who I’ll take instead.
“Please indicate your selections by pressing the corner of the preferred square and holding for five seconds. When all selections are made, please confirm via voice command.”
I kneel in front of the wall and press the corner of the square with one hand. The hole moves down the wall so that I can stroke him with my other.
His tentacle wraps around my hand, exploring my skin and I bite my lip as the suckers kiss my knuckles.
I draw that tentacle to my lips and I kiss him back.
When the square flashes, I say, “I’ve made my selection.”
The other tentacles disappear and the eight squares surrounding the one I’ve chosen flare to life in a vibrant dark purple and more holes appear. More tentacles, too.
Goodie.
They reach for me, touching softly and toying… tracing all over my body. Mapping me out. I freeze when one of them tightens on my tummy, but they don’t all retract—thank God—another one slips out of a hole beneath me and wraps around my leg.
“Would you prefer silence, or your previous playlist?
I flinch, because I’d forgotten the bot was there. “Um. yeah, my normal playlist, volume set to five?”
The music filters in, barely there, overhead, and I can’t be bothered to pay attention to see if it’s actually what I asked for.
There’s too much going on around me.
And I’m not doing my job.
I lick my lips and take hold of the tentacle I was first offered. Its tip is smooth and when I suck it, another tentacle slips out of the same hole.
I am not going to complain about getting more.
Weaving my hands through the onslaught of his tentacles, I manage to lift my crop top away and fling it behind me.
His suckers explore my skin. Sweet at first, then sharp.
Oh!
I gasp at the tiny kiss of pain and look down at the circular mark left behind.
“Assessment?” the bot says, making sure I’m okay.
I’m better than okay. I’ve never imagined.
“We’re good.” I breathe the words, and, even though the bot hears everything, I say it again, louder. “We’re good.”
So, so good.
I suck and his tentacle moves with me as my lips slide over him.
What if it is Agan on the other side of the wall?
How many times have I imagined going to my knees like this for him?
I spread my legs a little wider and gasp around the tentacle in my mouth as another slides across the seam of my shorts.
I should have taken them off already.
That tentacle slips inside the fabric, and it’s my seam he traces next.
One of his suckers covers over my nipple and pulls tight. The sweet little pain it shoots through me makes me moan against his tentacles and I have to release the one I’d been playing with so that I can hold onto the wall.
He’s toying with me and I think I love it. But both of us are here for the same thing…
I don’t want to stand up. I don’t want to break contact. “Ask him to tear off my shorts, please.”