CHAPTER 4
“Welcome to Ring-View Room Number One, Cherry.”
I step inside and am glad I didn’t wear shoes. The carpet is nice. I’d hate to mess it up.
I’m so used to the booth, the ring view bot’s voice is strange, but I ignore that. “Please have a seat while we run through the preliminary information, prior to your client’s arrival.”
It’s like a hotel suite. Bed, bathroom, cuck chair…
The bed feels too presumptuous after this morning, so I sit on the curved chair, watching the door nervously.
There are no windows…
Maybe it wouldn’t be presumptuous. Maybe I should get undressed now.
I flinch when the bot says, “As always, your safety is a priority, here at Phantoms. Use any of your pre-approved safe words at any time, and the interaction will cease. If the client does not respect the rules, we will make him.”
“Pretty sure you’re not going to have to enforce anything.”
If the bot hears me, it doesn’t acknowledge the words.
“Please confirm your identity by placing your hand on the table beside you.”
When I do, the surface lights up like the walls of the booth.
“Thank you Cherry.” Whirring sounds rush overhead, and then, “Please vocalize your consent to participate in this interaction. Know that if anyone has coerced you into this private setting, we will cancel the appointment and Phantom will deal with the perpetrator by any means necessary. You are always safe at Phantom’s. ”
I wonder what he would do to Sirin.
I wonder what he could do to the station administrator.
“I consent to participating in this interaction.”
“Consent confirmed. Do you wish to change any of your preset limits or change your opt-out status on any activities?”
“I do not.”
“Thank you and enjoy your time in the ring room.”
The bot goes quiet and the room starts to rotate.
I grip the cushion beneath me as I watch the walls move, revealing the enormous window with its view of the planet's rings.
The opening for the door I came through slides to a different one that seems identical to the first… but the pattern might be different.
When it opens, Sirin comes in and stops, pulling all of himself in so the door will shut behind him.
“Hi,” I say, not sure if I should stand or stay seated.
He doesn’t move either. “Hello again.”
He’s still wearing the gray uniform jacket he’d been wearing this morning. It’s fitted to him so that the lack of arms doesn’t look odd, but I want to pop open all those prim buttons. I want him naked.
I want him.
Pushing myself up to standing, I go to him and as soon as I reach him, his tentacles wrap around me, lifting me up so that I don’t have to reach for him. I wrap my arms around his neck and I kiss him the way I’ve wanted to for months.
He groans into my mouth and the sound reverberates through me… I need to be naked.
Why didn’t I strip while the bot went through its legalese?
Damn.
I need to get his jacket off first.
My hands go to the buttons, but I don’t understand them—there are no holes, they aren’t snaps—so I tug… just enough to get my point across and say “Off.”
He tosses me onto the bed and his tentacles peel the jacket off of him with such precision, I still don’t know how the buttons work when he throws it over the chair I’d been in when he arrived.
I unbutton my pants and let him shimmy me out of them as I pull my shirt off and throw it toward the chair too.
This is how I should have been waiting for him.
He moves back and looks down at me… “I must have done something to please a higher power.”
Tentacles moving up my thighs, over my belly and latching onto my breast, sucking through the lace, he shivers.
“I’ve dreamed of doing this,” he says, coaxing yet more skin. “It’s my bed in those dreams. You were always waiting for me when I closed my eyes.”
His suckers kiss their way across stomach.
“Should we make those dreams come true?” I ask, gasping as he pinches at me.
“Some of them.” One tentacle wraps fully around my thigh, then another does the same, like vibrant living garters. “We don’t have time to bring them all to life.
“Can I do this, Cherry? Can I have what was previously only available in those dreams?”
“You can have anything you want, Sirin.” It feels important to say his name when I give him that permission.
He licks his lips and I blink at what I think are three separate tendrils.
Tentacles tightening, Sirin buries his face between my things and his tongue…
Dropping my head back, I gasp at the teasing strokes and the way he toys with me. Playing.
I grab hold of him when he sucks at my clit, not for respite, but for survival.
I need to hold on.
Fingers gripping his head, I don’t have to steer him. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
He flicks and sucks and stretches and probes.
Sirin is so good at this. Maybe too good at this.
Not that I’m silly enough to complain.
Not that I have the wits or the breath left for that.
All I can manage are little sounds of encouragement and need.
Then, the pieces of his tongue swirl around my clit like they’re twisting a dial and he turns me all the way to eleven.
Sirin! I don’t know if the word escapes the short circuiting of my mind. My whole body coils tight. Every muscle burning to a bright point of tension that has only one release.
The orgasm makes my eyes roll back and my toes curl and my legs tremble and for a moment, all I see are stars.
Taking deep breaths and flinching each time his tongue flickers over my now swollen clit, it takes a moment for me to be able to open my eyes again. When I do, I still see stars, but they’re real and on the other side of the enormous window.
“I think,” I say, shifting up onto my elbows, “ That I should be able to fine you, or something.”
Smiling, he asks, “What for?”
“For keeping your tongue behind a wall this whole time.”
He lice his lips and slowly uncoils himself. “You can have my tongue any time you want it.”
“What about your cock? Can I have that any time I want it too?”
“I am at your disposal.”
He pulls off my underwear he’d previously pushed to the side, and I unhook my bra, passing it along to him, too.
I don’t pay attention to what happens to them because Sirin’s tentacles curl back, wrapping behind him until his strange and beautiful cock is ‘front and center.’
“I want to touch you,” I tell him. “But I can’t risk staining my hands again.”
I wriggle my fingers at him with a sad smile.
It had been a nightmare to keep hidden before. Now…
He holds out one of his tentacles. “Show me what you want to do.”
Show… oh.
I wrap my hand around it and he copies the movement, wrapping one of his inner tentacles around his cock.
He mimics everything I do. I stroke, he strokes. I squeeze, he squeezes.
It’s almost enough, but it’s nowhere near as satisfying as it would be to do it myself.
“Sirin?” His name is soft on my lips. “I dream about you too.”
His eyes close, his head tips back and he groans. I hear him whisper something that sounds like a prayer, and then his tentacles roll forward, pulling him on top of me, covering me.
His cock presses at my pussy, barely entering me and my body contracts, trying to pull him inside.
“I have spilled so much cum at the thought of you, Cherry,” he says. “So much cum that should have filled you. So much that should have flooded out and marked you as mine.”
He thrusts, finally giving me what I crave.
With other clients, it’s just mechanics and chemicals.
With Sirin… I want him to melt into me. I want him to be a part of me I can’t leave inside the booth or wash off later.
Kissing him, I let myself pretend we’re in his dream.
I pretend we’re in his bed, lovers without any secrets or money shared between us.
“You’re not going to waste a drop today, are you?” I ask.
His breath lays a trail across my shoulder and his lips follow. “Nothing is a waste when I’m with you.”
“Good.” I whimper when a sucker latches on to my clit. “Because I want it all.”
I run my hand over the curve of his shoulder and on to his chest. “I want you Sirin. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”
“You make me want to give up everything, just to be with you.” He exhales… he’s close. “I hate anything—anyone—who keeps me from you.”
“I hate them too.”
“Fuck, Annika,” he groans my real name as his cum fills me and spills from me. He whispers it as he thrusts again and again, until his cock is empty and I am flooded just like he wants.
He rolls us, so any cum that spills out of me falls onto his inner tentacles instead of staining me.
Holding me on top of him, still impaled, he strokes my back and my hair.
I enjoy the stillness of it and watch the planet out the window.
We can't… but part of me wishes we could stay here like this, forever.
“You called me Annika.” I say, softly.
“I did.” One of his tentacles tips my chin up and he asks, “Do you want me to call you Cherry instead?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said no to dinner when you thought it was pity… I want more of you, Annika. Will you let me feed you and talk to you face to face the way we have screen to screen for so long?”
I glance down at my hand, wrapped in his tentacle. “I would love to go to dinner with you, Sirin.”
“And I will call you whatever name you desire.”