Andromeda just laughs and pushes my glass toward my mouth. “Drink more. Relax. I’d be a bit offended if youcouldn’ttell.”
“It’s just—well, your relationship with Sylvus is—I couldn’t tell much from my research, but?—”
Her warm hand on my arm stops my stammering. I listen to her earlier advice and take a few gulps of wine.
“Itisunusual by hucow standards,” Andromeda clarifies. “That’s why I’m here. And why you’re here. Maybe it’s easier if I tell my story. Give you a chance to relax. There won’t be a test or anything, don’t worry.”
I nod eagerly. “That would be great.”
Andromeda’s a natural storyteller. I totally lose track of time as she recounts how she and Sylvus met. She also found out about the underground milk sales—but she somehow figured out where Sylvus lived and marched into his house to make a deal with him.
No wonder they have a unique relationship. At first, she glosses over the more… intimate details. But as we both drink more wine and our cheeks flush pink, her details get increasingly lurid and specific.
My heart races. It’s all so strange and exciting.
After explaining how he makes her climax in highly specific detail, to my eager and fascinated nods, she bashfully rubs the back of her neck and clears her throat. “So, anyway… that’s enough about me. Tell me about you.”
“Well, I’ve also had a jillion assignments, but not by choice.” I give her a summary of how I got into my current mess and why I was willing to take the risk of becoming a fugitive. “The bond you and Sylvus have… it sounds very…permanentin a way that’s deeply appealing to me.”
A thoughtful smile pulls across Andromeda’s lips. “Yeah. I thought I’d hate it, but… it’s nice. Really nice.”
I offer a wry grin. “Well, it’s just my luck I’ll go in thinking it sounds amazing and then hate it.”
Andromeda laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t think so. But let’s talk a little more. Tell me about your… sexual preferences? Ugh, that sounds so clinical. But you know what I mean.”
Without the glass of wine in me, there’s no way I’d be able to utter a single one of these words. But with Andromeda’s steady, welcoming presence and a little liquid courage, I manage.
“I’m into… nipple stimulation. That’s fine by me. Sucking and… pinching and whatever.”
“That’s certainly promising. Have you done anything with a dominant-submissive dynamic?”
“Uh… not really.” Shit, should I have lied?
“I think that’s fine,” Andromeda says. “To be entirely honest, I don’t really know what the criteria should be… Maybe I can just explain to you why we even have them, and you can choose for yourself.”
“I’d like that.” The ICSS is always interviewing us and making the decisions. The opportunity to make one for myself, even if it’s a bad one, is truly tempting.
“Obviously, what we do here isveryillegal. It’s kind of like… having a pet tiger.”
I choke on my drink of wine, coughing as I laugh. “Oh my god. I never thought of it like that. But… I mean, I see it.”
She nods. “Humans can do a lot of damage. Cause a lot of chaos. I think part of why the ICSS keeps us under such close wraps is less because we’re so ‘unevolved’ and more because we’re… unpredictable. We prove an algorithm wrong faster than any other species.”
My eyes widen. “That’s what I’ve been saying! I mean, don’t get me wrong. We got Earth blown up; we don’t exactly deserveto be set loose on the rest of the galaxies. But I kind of wish they’d just… acknowledge that?”
“Of course you do,” Andromeda says. “You’re here. We’re the humans that slip through the cracks. Or, I suppose… we’re an even smaller subset of those humans both disillusioned by the system and open to having our tits sucked for profit.”
I choke on my wine again.
“Sorry!” Andromeda laughs, holding my arm as I cough. “Sorry, Sylvus hardly laughs at my jokes. I forgot how hilarious I can be.”
“If I’m an okay fit for this hucow thing, we get to be friends, right?”
She tilts her head as if she hadn’t considered that.
I instantly regret blurting it out.
A bright smile spreads across her face. “I don’t see why not!”
