Lois #2
Then we moved on to the technology rooms. I’ve got to say, I had thought that part was going to be boring, but the artificial womb exhibit was fascinating.
They even had a section dedicated to Senator Glex, and how his family has been furthering this particular technology and also using it to aid an endangered native species on a conservation planet they own – the very same conservation planet that Zann is on right now.
Part of the exhibit had a model of a large, egg-shaped artificial womb, dissected so that we could see the young, winged species of alien curled up inside, complete with a tail tucked around himself.
The replica even had animatronic lungs, making it look like real breathing as the model lay there with his eyes closed, in the fetal position.
The whole thing was fascinating, and it makes me look forward to Zann’s next video call so I can ask him all about his work.
As long as he doesn’t call while Az and I are getting busy again.
“And this,” Lazzy says, guiding us through to the next room, “is one of our most popular exhibits. Off limits to our younger guests, of course.”
I follow, furrowing my brow. “Why would it be-”
But when I step properly over the threshold, my words peter off into distraction.
The room is ornate in decoration, all polished dark wood floors and decorative wall and ceiling moldings gilt in gold.
Dotted here and there on the floor of the room are different kinds of…
furniture? They’re accentuated by spotlights, the sources of which are floating above them.
The pieces are roped off with deep purple velvet capped in gold, further information floating nearby in the form of glowing projected text.
The pieces of furniture themselves are all different combinations of padding, leather straps, control panels, and at one point, I think I spy stirrups.
So yeah, I think it’s safe to say these aren’t your usual IKEA flatpack items. Them things is for fuckin’.
I know Niska and Kiahn have one of these benches, but I don’t know the mechanics of it all, and as much as I probed my friend, she wouldn’t give up the juicy details.
I caught a glimpse of the thing once, but can’t remember if it looked like that one over there that looks like the lovechild of a chiropractor’s office and a dominatrix’s dungeon, or the one next to it with enough buttons to launch a spaceship.
I stand there a little slack-jawed as Lazzy carries on explaining about pristinely preserved examples of the very first Xaviann breeding contracts they keep behind glass.
He gestures casually to a wall of mounted objects that look like a BDSM enthusiast’s wet dream.
There are cages, and straps, and masks of so many designs, it’s kind of dizzying.
“And over here, you’ll find a prototype version of a padded bite stick – a piece of apparatus designed for the male to wear and bite into-”
“Wait,” I say, maybe a little too loudly for a museum setting.
Several other visitors peel their eyes from the Swiss Army knives of alien sex to stare at me instead.
Clearing my throat, I step closer to Lazzy, Az following along closely behind me.
“Wait,” I try again, quieter this time. “Are you telling me you guys could have been biting down on things instead of strapping your women into Inspector Gadget’s fuck chair this whole time? ”
Lazzy gives me a quizzical look before stepping aside to show another version of the ‘bite stick’ – this one completely snapped in half.
Okay, so that wouldn’t work. My eyes scan the walls, landing on something that looks a bit like an incredibly elaborately decorated muzzle, complete with gold and jewels.
Jesus, these guys go all out on their sex toys.
“What about something like that?” I ask, pointing.
Lazzy shakes his head, lamenting. “The males who sampled these restrictive devices all reported discomfort in using them.”
I blink at him a moment before being unable to contain myself. “Well boo-fucking-hoo!” I huff, turning more heads in our direction.
Lazzy scrambles. “Well… er… yes, the imbalance has been known to be unfairly tipped toward the male’s preferences in the past, it is true.
But females are still able to request the use of these bite restriction devices during their contract negotiations,” he says, gesturing to the wall of masks, mouth cages, and what look like weird gumshield-type things for their fangs.
“And how often would the males agree to those?” I ask, raising a brow.
“I-… well… I don’t have the data on… contract negotiations are a very private matter and-”
“I think we’ll take it from here, Lazzy,” Az says, clapping the smaller male on the shoulder to save him from digging himself a bigger hole. He then gestures for us to walk the room alone, without our guide.
I can hear Lazzy blustering behind us, but Az is already leading me away, leaning down to murmur, “You know, if you wanted me to use a bite stick, I’d happily do so.”
I snort-laugh at that. “Would it stop you from saying incorrigible shit like that?”
He side-eyes me with a lazy grin. “You need to stop being so mean to me in public, or I’m going to get a ‘fang boner’, as you like to call it.”
“Az!” I laugh, lightly slapping him in his rock-hard abs.
We come to what feels like a natural standstill together in front of one of the spotlighted breeding benches on display, and I…
Well, I…
I don’t know what to say.
Seemingly, neither does Az as he stands there in a sturdy, wide-leg stance, his hands shoved into his pants pockets.
I lean over to him and whisper my question as I stare up at the contraption of straps, padding, and some kind of wipe-clean leather. “You ever use one of these things?”
I’m not even sure why I asked, because I don’t think I really want to know if he has.
He turns to me with a raised brow. “Xaviann,” he says, gesturing to his own chest, “remember?”
Oh right.
The whole no-touchy-touchy-without-an-airtight-contract thing.
“Yeah, but… not even in one of your simulator romps?”
Why am I still asking questions, Godamnit?!
Az wets his lips as he looks at me for a long moment before shaking his head just a fraction. “What about you?”
I eye the complicated-looking breeding bench in front of us again. “No, and I think I’d need an instruction manual with diagrams first.”
Az laughs lightly and steers me toward a different display. “This one was an earlier, simpler model.”
The piece of furniture in front of us still looks opulent to me, just without all the high-tech gadgets added on.
The main ‘body’ of it looks almost like a plush, plumped-up sun-lounger – well, except for the bottom half where your legs should go.
Instead, two padded rests are offered that I’m guessing you’re meant to hook your knee over – splayed, of course.
And there, sectioning off the top half to the ‘business-end’ is a golden frame with a lush burgundy curtain draped from it.
“Wha-” I tilt my head, looking at the thing before it all clicks.
The female Xaviann would sit back in the chair, her legs parted by the rests beneath her knees. Then the curtain drapes across her body, effectively cutting off the sight of her from the hips up.
“But… wouldn’t the sight of-” I make a vague gesture to the lower half of my body before swallowing thickly, “-you know… what’s going on on this side of the curtain still excite the male?”
My throat has gone dry when I think of being laid out on that thing, everything below the hips exposed and parted, not being able to see when you’re about to be touched – when you’re about to be fucked. I can only imagine it would heighten the other senses – touch and sound.
Az is talking, but I hadn’t really been paying attention. I’d been too busy imagining, anticipating his next move from behind that heavy curtain. “Huh?” I ask, dumbly.
He does a little double-take before repeating himself. “I was saying how this is an early model before they moved on to different designs.”
I hear his words this time, but I can tell that while he’s saying them, he’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking. The problem is, what I’m thinking is making me blush like a teen buying condoms for the first time.
“Do you…” I try, my voice a little hoarse before I clear it and start again. “Do you think you’d be able to control yourself if we used something like that?”
Az goes very still as he looks at me, and I watch as his pupils dilate with understanding.
Without taking his intense gaze from mine, he makes a short, sharp whistle that startles me. “Lazzy!” he calls, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he waits for the museum guide to come bustling over.
“Yes, Prince A-”
“Dismiss the room.”
My breath hitches. There’s a beat of silence, and I swear I can practically hear my heartbeat.
“Wha- But-”
Az interrupts Lazzy’s sputtering, his words repeated slowly in a lowered tone that causes a wave of goosebumps to sprinkle across the back of my neck. “Dismiss. The. Room.”