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.Mappingme out. I freeze when one of them tightens on my tummy, but they don’t all retract—thank God—another oneslips 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.
