On The Dotted Line

The glamour of show business...

He'd been sitting for about forty minutes when he heard a soft, uncomfortable mewl, and his co-star came around the corner out of a hallway. She stopped suddenly to stare at him in surprise. James raised his eyes to the tall, feline figure and instantly remembered what she looked like naked.

"Uh, hi?" he ventured. "Shiv?"

The temple spots said it was Shiv alright, and again she was dressed in a half-length tank top, spandex shorts and shoes, only this time the clothes were just black. This time she wasn't frowning or peering at him like a sniping stalker. She looked much worse for wear than the last time they'd spoken. Gone were the cold, calculating eyes, the unreadable expressions, the controlled, fluid movements. The she-Wraith was not only extremely distracted, but her hands were trembling, her breathing quick, and the expression on her face was, James could only decide, one of pain. But not as if she were injured. More like...

Withdrawal. I know that face.

"You okay, Shiv?"

She didn't reply at first then shook her head decisively. "No, McManus, I am not okay."

"What's wrong?"

She loomed over him, intent on watching him, the small blades of her ears turned flat against her thick mane. Her long nipples poked through the thin tank, her nostrils twitched, and there was hunger in that gaze, though James wasn't sure if she was thinking of fucking him or eating him. He wasn't sure if he should stand up or not; maybe standing up would be a challenge; maybe he'd provoke her.

Then Shiv's expression slowly morphed into one he wished he didn't recognize. Regret. "I am sorry, McManus."

He swallowed. "Sorry for what?"

"That I asked you to akhsss...accept. To accept this contract. I chose you because you seemed to need the money, and you would be more likely to survive this than a...than a normal human." Shiv kept her fingers curled, hiding her claws. "But I did not know they would do this to me. Had I known, I may have chosen a Brain Waster and let him cheat. You do not deserve this."

This was a side he didn't know she had, that any Wraith had. Pity it had to be dropped on him with bad news. Who had done what to her? What didn't the Frother deserve, in her alien mind?

James looked around for anyone too near who might overhear; they were either working on the cameras and the set or running to and from the office out front. No one was paying any attention to the "actors." He looked back at red eyes that were scaring him, though he'd never admit it. He indicated a chair where she could sit down. "What did they do to you?"

Shiv crossed her arms as if trying to stop the shaking of her hands; her breathing was still fast, and he saw now a thin layer of sweat darkening the velvet fuzz at her temples. She considered the chair for a few moments too long then decided to take it, moving it closer where they could keep their voices low. She flinched as if he had shocked her when they accidently touched knees, and her ears stayed back. James didn't draw attention to the contact.

"On Wraiths, McManus," she began, each word seeming to take some effort to say without breaking, "do you know the females have estrus cycles? That we go into heat?"

McManus hadn't known that but figured it was easier to nod.

"I am a...an a-abnormality. My mating heat...should not be so strong, but it is. My pride on Polo rejected me. SLA Industries found a way to help me. I can... mitigate the intensity with a Wraithen serum at the start of my heat, but SLA controls it. I can only get it through my physician."

James knew he wasn't the brightest of guys, but any Clansman recognized someone in serious need of a fix when he saw it. He rubbed his forearm with his palm, popping a sympathetic sweat alongside her. "You haven't had your serum."

The she-Wraith shook her head in the negative.

"And they always time the recording for when you are in heat."

Shiv nodded agreement, looking miserable even as her nostrils seemed to be taking in his scent, her white fangs showing on the inhale.

"I cannot prove it," she murmured, "but...someone must have bribed the physician to take a holiday this week. His office refused me when I went for my normal appointment two days ago, and no other office can synthesize it in time."

James thought of the contract restrictions. No sex forty-eight hours before reporting to the studio. Her heat started two days ago, and she hasn't had anyone. Shit.

"It is too late," she continued, "and not coincidence. This strong estrus is why the Channel pursues me."

"Yeah, I...uh...I watched one of your videos." He looked away when she glanced at him. "The last one. You were in heat, but on the serum?"

A rock settled in his stomach as she nodded an affirmative.

"I must mate, McManus. I have forced others to mate before, but I have never k... I-I do not know if I can control myself. Not as you fight me."

The Frother felt a rush run up from the base of his spine. "Meaning what?"

Shiv stopped a moment as her abdominal muscles clenched and she grimaced, putting the heels of her hands against her forehead, her ears twitching. Her claws were always out, James saw. No retractables.

"I almost killed my mate once," she murmured, shame like lead in her voice. "When he fought me. Before the serum. Under this contract, you will be on Ultra Violence but will have no weapons or armor to defend yourself. Neither of us shall have control. They took it away. I think... I am to kill you while mating you, while being recorded. And I am sorry. I did not know."

Odd how those chilling words should have sounded like a threat coming from anyone he knew, implying a willingness to sacrifice him to get ahead in SLA. Just how things were done, sometimes, but also why James loved his Clan; they had his back, more than most. Instead, Shiv's confession came across as the ultimate failure, a fatalistic and inevitably apology, like this would destroy everything she knew.

James' gaze lingered on her claws for several seconds, his teeth gritted behind closed lips in a sudden surge of anger and terror swept through him. Knew it was too good to be true.

But he'd signed.

James hadn't signed on for a snuff vid, he knew; he hadn't skimmed the contract that sloppily. Those were illegal, anyway. The ASC was a major, legitimate business but collateral for ratings was a common ploy for anyone, even he knew that. The penalties to his Clan if James backed out now probably meant he wouldn't be a McManus anymore within a couple months and, as a lone, black-balled Operative, would only get the lowest street jobs. Best case scenario now, if he died here by "accident," Ma and Seana stayed in Downtown, the Clan got what little he owned, and the ASC would still find a way to sell the vid they made.

McManus felt sick.

"I will never be free."

Shiv's mournful whisper broke into his thoughts, and James guessed just being near him made it harder on her. Heat poured off her. The Frother realized he could smell not just her sweat, but something else. Something redolent, off-world; definitely not from the City. The Frother hadn't known that Wraiths could weep, either. They always seemed so cold, so calm. Shiv's blood-red eyes were glassy with fear and unshed tears.

"If I kill you, on camera," she said, "they can do whatever they want."

He nodded. That part was the same for all Operatives. "You won't pass your next psych eval. They'll revoke your Operative status. Maybe deport you."

"Worse," she hissed. "They will give me a 'medical exemption,' and make me a Contract Killer. And give me to the ASC."

James paused. She's right. "Fuck."

The CK's were often the nutball Operatives who cracked somewhere along the line; they were dangerous or unreliable to operate in the "normal" tasks, but they still had value. They ran the Circuit, fighting each other for their sponsors. Better than abandoning Mort's "veterans," the saying went.

James and his fellows watched the Circuit; everyone did. It was some of the best entertainment. Stars came and went, very few stuck around long, and James was pretty sure the agents from Cloak Division came to "visit" the CK's more often than regular SLOps, especially the uncooperative ones. Checking their loyalty to the Company. Sometimes you just never heard about a particular Killer again. They were gone.

Cloak coming to get you. Not how I'd want to be taken out of the game.

"Shiv, do you have a copy of your contract?" he asked, not hopeful given how little she was wearing.

She looked up, appearing at first not to understand his question. "My financier already saw it. Signed off on it."

James shrugged. "Was that before or after you were blocked at the doctor?"

"Before." Shiv answered, but no light of understanding came to her eyes.

"And you didn't show it to him after? Or tell him about this?"

She shook her head. "Tom is good at his job, but still male, and human. He does not understand. It is too late."

James tried to still his leg as it began to bounce. He repeated, "Do you have a copy I could see? On your Oyster, or something?"

She was irritable and skeptical; not a good mix. "McManus, you are not a financier."

"I know that. Come on, you gotta have it. Please?"

She considered, then pulled a much-folded paper square out of her running shoe.

Odd place to put it, but okay.

James unfolded the damp paper and looked over the concise, small print crammed onto two pages. It said pretty much the same as his. No explicit orders to go into a frenzy and kill him on camera. The Wraith Raider wasn't lying to him.

Good. Details stacked against us, but they're not strong-arming her.

James looked through the pre-recording restrictions that pretty much mirrored the one Franc showed him, minus the UV. No mention of taking any serum. Almost a form contract, slightly modified from the previous five, maybe.

Medical exam...no sex forty-eight hours before reporting to the studio... The Frother stopped. Can't believe that pompous fuck missed this. Did he pawn it off onto an intern or something?

James reached out and gently took Shiv's wrist; again she flinched, trying to pull away. Her skin was very hot, and the alien "coat" was indeed a lot like velvet. Her lip curled, and she started to growl as he held firm.

"Hey, quiet. Got an idea."

James leaned much closer, holding her eyes and risking her teeth if she snapped at him. Showing her he was serious and not a coward. She didn't blink, staring with simmering hostility but she didn't eat his face.

Off to a good start.

"Want a quickie?" he whispered.

Shiv stared. "What?"

James lifted the contract in his other hand, a grin stretching his lips. "Doesn't say in here our first fuck has to be in front of the camera, only that it has to be in the studio. Mine says that I can't take UV until just before the camera goes live on the day of the shoot. We're in the studio, and I won't be fighting you for little while. I submit. I'm all yours."

Understanding shone at last in her scarlet eyes and the she-Wraith stood up, seizing his wrist in return and hauling him out of his chair and the waiting area, down the hallway. Her tight grip on him drew a few curious eyes as Shiv made her way past them.

"Hey. Hey, let go," he muttered. "I'll follow. Promise."

Reluctantly, she let him take his wrist back. "You run, I will chase you," she whispered.

James felt like smiling again. "Frothers don't run."

Although, in other circumstances, he might have taken her up on a playful chase.

Shiv came the long way around to a door she seemed to be her target and used her SCL badge at her hip to open it. She seemed to know what to expect on the inside. James saw just a basic dressing room but immediately noticed how cold it was.

Like a meat cooler. Great.

Shiv closed the heavy, insulated door and James heard the lock click. He glanced around the room and spied the pieces of tape hand-fixed to the ceiling were two cameras would be.

Ah, only the prima donnas might get away with that.

Then Shiv seized his shoulders before he could speak and firmly guided him, pushing him until his backside fell into an armless chair.

"Okay, wh—"

She shucked off her shiny black shorts, and the Frother stared at her pussy, confirming that a razor wasn't what had made her look clean-shaven in the video. She was just uniform in the velvet fuzz. The she-Wraith sat on his thighs next, facing him, her legs and hands nudging up his kilt. Her inner thighs were as damp as her hairline, as her wild scent hit him full in the face. Tremors passed through her hands as she licked her fangs, and he panicked.

"Whoa, wait! Come on, Shiv, I know you've been ready for two days now, but I still need a little foreplay!"

Shiv looked up at his face and blinked as if she forgot he could talk. "Such as?"

He wet his lips, trying to think. His eyes dropped to her chest. "Well. I like tits, even small ones. Take off your tank."

She didn't question that; she stripped without hesitation, now wearing only her running shoes. James put both hands on her waist, letting that astonishing warmth seep through a very pleasant texture into his palms. He slipped them upward over her ribs toward her chest, and she bared her teeth. His hands froze.

"Don't like that?" he asked. A blowjob's out of the question.

She quivered on his lap, visibly collecting her nerves. She reached her hand under his kilt to cup his genitals and he tensed, but with the light massage he realized she was adept at doing so without jabbing. At least the palms of her hands were decently smooth. At least he was at half-mast.

"Irrelevant," she said, her voice roughened with lust. "Touch me as you need it, McManus. I have mated outside my species before."

You have?

"Hurry," she whispered, shifting her shoulders back to present her breasts to him.

Uh, right.

James focused on her dark purple nipples capping the tender palmfuls of fuzzy flesh, the only curves she had that weren't formed by muscle. He could feel how dense she was, how hard her thigh muscles were, while she sat on him. He focused on this small area of feminine softness, framing it with his hands and leaning forward to nuzzle, inhaling and getting used to her scent before taking a nipple to suckle.

It was long and a little rubbery, the taste of her skin reminding him that she wasn't a Clan girl. James almost drew back just from the unfamiliarity of it but Shiv purred softly and threaded her free hand through his dreads at the back of his skull, holding him close like a babe while rubbing him beneath his kilt. She definitely knew how to stroke a man.

"I like," she murmured. "Male Wraiths are... not so adept."

Encouraging. Shape of the 'monkey mouth' is good for something.

James kept nuzzling and sucking on her breasts, pleasing her and himself, feeling his dick plump up as he relaxed into the shared experience. Shiv's feet were firmly braced on either side, her forearm propped on his shoulder; her legs strong and her hips undulated along his hairy thighs half-way between a lap dance and an ecstatic drug trance. She pulled on him firmly as he grew fully hard in her hand, and a long, eager growl from her caused his balls to tighten in anticipation.

McManus didn't have to do anything as Shiv took it from there, lifting his kilt fully and shuffling her groin flush against his, aiming the glans for her slippery hole. She seemed to know to cover his mouth, muffling him when she squatted down and took his dick full-length up inside her.

"Mmph!" Fucking hot!

He couldn't even decide if it was in the good way.

Shiv chuckled, her eyes gleaming like a predator as her insides squeezed him as no woman ever had. She licked the side of his throat from collarbone to jaw with a strong tongue and he sucked in a startled breath, his cock pulsing once from his blood surging.

"Don't fight," she warned, her eyes half-closed as she tested a full stroke up and down. She groaned. Her eyes closed in the pleasure.

She likes it.

"Won't," he grunted as the scalding, alien pussy rose up and jammed his prick inside her again. "Hsss, Fuck..!"

"Mmmrrr. Yesss."

James didn't have to do much when Shiv began to ride him; he kept his hands on her, palming her ass and stroking her back and waist. She fucked him harder, her breathing grew frenzied as mewls escaped her throat. She felt good and tight around him, if almost too hot. If not for the cold room, he would have sweated through his shirt already. Lucky for them both, his lack of usual recreation made him a little numb so, hard or not, the Frother would have to hump for a while to get off. Shiv didn't notice his relative lack of desperation; she buried her nose just behind his ear and wrapped her arms around him, fucking his human cock like she was starved for it. Like she really needed it to keep living.

Hungry girl. Might spurt off if she says my name even once—

"Ow!" he hissed as abrupt, shooting pains jolted him out of complacency. He gripped her hand at the nape of his neck and tried to peel off her fingers. "Watch the claws! I'm not on UV yet."

Shiv's burning, red eyes opened to a slit and she snarled at him. Still, she placed both her hands on the back of the chair; her claws squeaked against the metal as she gripped it and redoubled her stride. Belatedly, James realized she had been climbing fast and he had just sent her orgasm sideways.

Fuck my crutch...

He had the thought to apologize but Shiv went straight back to nuzzling and snuffling his throat and his jaw, this time pushing his head to the side with force. James knew his throat was exposed, and Shiv insisted he keep it there. She even nipped him, and he dug his fingers into her hips in response, which somehow encouraged her to go faster.

Did...did she just give me a Wraith-hickey?

The bit of blood on his neck brought out more of the noises he'd heard in her vid as Shiv hissed, somehow sounding happy doing it, and moaned in low delight. Fortunately, she wasn't shrieking in his ears because he wasn't doing more than gasping and grunting with an occasional huff and a curse. The pace was impressive; at once point, he felt better braced gripping his seat with one hand.

Any Clan girl off her PI would have worn out her thighs already.

Shiv tripped up on the smooth strokes along his dick; her breath hitched in her throat, her body tightened down on him. She climaxed then, he was sure of it; the way her ragged breath scraping by his ear, her cunt rippling in a pronounced massage so strange he held still as a gargoyle for a few seconds, his jaw slack in astonishment. Then the she-Wraith screeched in his ear, a breaking, panicked sound different from her vid, and she clung to him, desperately milking every sizzle of sensation between her legs.

When she was finished, the Frother tried to speak, maybe a compliment, maybe some stupid joke to lighten the mood, but she pressed her hand over his mouth and jerked her chin in a negative.

"Again," she gasped, halfway between a demand and a plea. "A-again, McManusss."

Holy shiiitt...

Not 'James,' but the sultry draw on his Clan name reduced his control a notch.

Think about my last BPN in the sewers, something to keep from getting off.

James sucked in a breath through his nose, pulling some nasty, unsexy visuals around him like a cloak by the time his hand pulled hers away from his mouth. "Go for it, kitty. Just don't say my first name 'less it's my turn."

She nodded distractedly, more than ready to take him up on it. Now she was too slick; she leaked over his thighs, tagged his kilt with her scent grinding against him while he gripped the chair beneath his ass with both hands. He knew she came twice more because of the shrieks which left his ears ringing.