Nightshades Ch. 01

I'm finally writing again after a very long drought, and Nightshades is the first work that I've managed to sustain past 10k words or so. I think it's because my health is improving, as well as my outlook, but that's not as important as actually getting my butt in the chair and producing real words.

This is the first chapter of a new novel that I'll be self-publishing some time next year, and I emphasize that this is a work in progress. Who knows where it will end up, but I think this is a promising start, with a couple of characters whom I've really fallen in love with, some hot D&S sex, and a fun cyberpunk setting. It's also a little more raw than some of my previous stuff, and later chapters will feature more hard-core stuff, as well as some borderline CNC or even DubCon content, but hopefully nothing that will ick anyone out. It's a rough, gritty, dog-eat-dog future after all, so things may get kind of hard. In any event, here's chapter 1, and I hope you enjoy it.

"Did you know it used to be dark at night, before all the neon and video screens? And you could see the stars. You could go out anywhere, look up and see the stars."

Tam took a long drag on her vape and released a cloud of steam that lingered in the humid air over the bar.

Her companion sighed. "Yeah, I know. And there were trees and lakes and clean air and fresh water and cute little bunnies everywhere. And that was before either of us was born."

"Oh, fuck off Z," Tam replied, then pulled another drag and blew the resulting cloud straight into her companion's face.

Z inhaled luxuriantly, refusing to let Tam's antagonism bother her.

"Mint," she whispered. "So like you."

Z exuded cool sophistication, unflappable even in a cloud of greenish vapor. Her face was angular almost to the point of artificiality, as if her pale skin was synthetic stretched across a harsh android skull, framed by close-cropped, stiff platinum hair. Her eyes were invisible behind a pair of mirrored wraparound smart-shades, enhancing her robotic appearance. Only her lips -- thick and full, phasing from red to violet to blue and back again in the dim light of the bar -- betrayed the presence of an actual human, despite their strobing hue. The rest of her was like part of the shadowy bar, clad in a form-fitting black nyleather jumpsuit, with a wide belt at the waist that held a single glowing data pad.

A near-empty glass rested on the table in front of her and she tapped it with a slender finger tipped with a long, pointed nail that strobed with the same colors as her lips. A moment later a drone glided silently toward the table and hovered as Z plucked two glasses from it and set them on the table, then flashed the not-too-outrageous charges, and darted away, over the heads of the packed patrons.

Tam put down her vape rig and held her glass, staring with heavy-lidded green eyes at the amber liquid inside.

"You didn't even ask if I wanted a refill," she mused, almost dreamily. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked, her voice now shifting to a teasing accusation.

Z's lips, now a vivid violet, curved upward. They were, Tam noted, the only real way of reading Z's emotions, and even they weren't especially accurate. It was an oddly insightful observation, as alcohol and dope infused Tam's body, making her normally sharp senses dull into a warm, comfortably sensuous lethargy.

"Of course," Z replied. "I like you drunk. You're so much more... accommodating."

Tam snorted. "Oh, am I now? The rebellious little street hustler who turns into a submissive slut at her mistress' command?"

The icy smile didn't change as Z's lips shifted to blue.

"Well, aren't you?"

Tam's expression narrowed into a mask of wicked mischief.

"Take me home and find out, bitch."

She was shorter and more compact than her companion, her dark red hair intricately woven into dozens of braids, interlaced with rings, beads, polished stones and discarded bits of electronica, her pale face spattered with freckles. She shunned her friend's high-tech decorations for more primal and (in her view at least) tribal accessories -- piercings gleamed in her nostrils and at the corners of her lips, her earlobes were stretched to accommodate black polished spools. A spiked black leather collar encircled her neck, and from it a metal tag dangled, inscribed with only the letter "Z". She was proud of her curves -- "Lushy" was the current street lingo for her body type; her friend Malachi called it "Zaftig" -- her clothes were strategically ripped and worn, exposing creamy skin while creating the intentional image of a modern barbarian clad in the cast-off detritus of civilization instead of fur, leather and hides.

Appearances were deceiving however -- Tam's tattered tank was woven with Kevlar fiber, and the torn fishnet stockings that covered thighs bared by shredded denim shorts were woven of tough and durable synthetic fiber. Well-worn combat boots completed the ensemble, covered in sloppy hand-painted symbols, from anarchy to peace to Hindu aum.

There were other secrets hidden beneath her seemingly flawless pale skin, but she kept those to herself.

Z looked at her for a long time, and the tumult of the bar seemed to fade away, sinking into a silence that encompassed only the two of them. Z's lips formed a straight, unyielding luminous blue line as she wordlessly reached for her data pad, tapped it once, glanced at it, the shining screen reflecting in the surface of her smart visor.

She replaced the pad on her belt and returned her attention to Tam.

"Ride's on the way. Be here in five minutes." Then she gently lifted Tam's glass in one hand and reached out with the other, nails glowing ominously, stroking the other woman's intricate red braids.

"But first..." Z sharp-nailed fingers seized handful of Tam's hair and yanked her head backwards, eliciting a soft cry. "Open."

Tam's lips parted almost reflexively, and she felt the cold edge of Z's glass against them.

"Drink." Z upended the glass, and Tam felt the cold liquid spill over, dribbling down her chin and cheeks, then swallowed, forcibly holding back her gag reflex as Z emptied the glass into her mouth. The cold liquid felt suddenly hot, burning its way down her throat, warming her esophagus and stomach as it went.

"Good girl," her lover whispered, then took up the second, untouched glass. "More, baby."

Tam didn't struggle as Z poured the second glass down her throat, fingers still tight in her hair, holding her in an unyielding grip. Her lips and nails now cycled from blue to pink, to an angry, aggressive red.

Tam closed her eyes, savoring the warmth that grew to a burning sensation deep inside her.

"Ooh, you are definitely getting me drunk now," she said, smiling dreamily. "I'm such a slut when I'm drunk."

Z pressed her now crimson-glowing lips to Tam's ear and whispered harshly.

"Call me a bitch again and I'll beat the shit out of you, understand, cunt?"

"Yeah," she whispered back. "I understand, you bitch."

***

Z's automated coach rolled up to the bar a few minutes later, and they stepped out into the hot neon- and video-lit night. Z pushed Tam forward, holding her arms from behind as the gull-wing door cycled open, revealing a plush black nyleather interior.

"Get in." It was a command, not a request, and Tam complied, feeling the delicious excitement at Z's apparent anger, and a tiny sliver of fear about how she would express it. She allowed Z to propel her, none too gently, into the vehicle, and immediately threw herself down upon the curved black couch, feeling the world spin around her in warm, graceful, but slightly dizzying arcs.

Z slipped into the cabin beside her.

"Home," she commanded. The door locks clicked softly and the vehicle moved forward into the flashing luminance of the night. Fat raindrops began to spatter against the windows, but the automated vehicle sped on, unhindered.

The cabin was circular, with black couches facing each other over a carpeted floor. A central console contained a vidscreen, uplink terminal, and minibar. Z thumbed a touchpad, and a small panel opened, revealing a line of pill bottles like helmeted soldiers standing at attention. She selected one, opened it, and shook a yellow capsule into her hand. Her lips and nails glowed soft white.

"Open," she whispered, sliding into the seat beside Tam and pressing the pill against her mouth.

Tam licked her lips. Dope and potent synthetic alcohol still pulsed through her veins, yet her mind remained relatively clear. What was her lover offering, and how would it affect her, especially as drunk as she was?

Z was a corpo bitch, and that was always first and foremost in Tam's mind. Corpos weren't to be trusted, especially those as high on the food chain as Z. At first, she'd been just another customer, soliciting one of the best street hackers for some freelance data theft from NeelaTak. The job had proved easy, and within 24 hours Z had all the info she needed to pull a quick hostile takeover and bring NeelaTak under the ever-growing International Data Systems umbrella. More jobs had followed, until one night...

The memory was inscribed onto Tam's brain like the conductive traces on a circuit board. Z had, for the first time, removed her smart-shades, revealing two striking pale blue eyes that seemed to bore into her in a way that cybernetics never could. Her lips were dark red and her nails glowed in the half-light of the apartment.

"So what else do you do for money, baby?" The whispered words echoed in Tam's head like a thunderclap, and she realized that she'd been wanting to hear them ever since they'd fires met.

Tam lay back on Z's long couch and stretched.

"Whatever you want me to do, Mistress."

The memory flashed past in a fraction of a second, and Tam as back in Z's coach, with her lover beside her, proffering a yellow capsule whose contents were a mystery.

"Yes, Mistress," Tam replied, opening her thick lips. Her piercing was a hard metal contrast to the wet pink of her tongue as she extended it.

Z didn't simply place the pill on her tongue. She pressed her fingers into Tam's mouth, sliding the capsule almost to the back of her throat, then releasing it. Tam encircled Z's fingers with her lips and sucked at them as she pulled them out, then swallowed, feeling the pill slip down her throat.

"Good girl," Z whispered.

***

The black automated coach continued to glide through the streets, outside lights reflecting the constellation of raindrops across its featureless black surface.

Inside, Tam swam in a deep gulf of sensation, her mind divided between reality and wild fancy. The very air inside the cabin seemed to be alive, caressing her with a thousand fingers, and wild spiraling lights pulsed and strobed with each touch of her lover's tongue.

She lay on her back, cradled in the faux leather of the cabin couch, luxuriating in a million different stimulations, but centered on the black-clad woman who was busy between her thighs. Z hadn't bothered undressing -- in fact she still wore her reflective shades, which somehow made her deliberate but passionate focus on Tam's cunt even more exciting.

Tam's shorts and boots were gone, tossed somewhere in the darkness of the cabin, along with the brief thong she had worn beneath them. She retained the black spiked collar and its tag that signified Z's status as her owner, and her legs were still wrapped in her deceptively torn black fishnets, but they were draped over Z's shoulders, giving her lover full access to her thighs and the wet place between them. Tam had pushed her tank top up to expose her breasts -- big, round and firm, each pink nipple pierced with a straight silver bar, and she squeezed them tightly in rhythm with Z's mouth.

Her cunt was completely naked, shaved bare and exposed to Z's attention. Her pink labia were pierced with two rings each, but Z had pushed these aside to focus her attention on the swollen nub of Tam's clitoris. It was pierced with another ring, which Z's pointed tongue teased and flicked at, eliciting moans from Tam and new flashes of unfamiliar color, coiling through her vision like rainbow serpents in a dark jungle.

"Mmmm, honey," Tam groaned, then sighed, tugging at her nipple rings, pulling them out and savoring the sensations that radiated outward, joining with the sparkling throb of her clit. Did they hurt? Tam finally decided that they did, but in her state -- soaring on elite dope, enhanced alcohol, and whatever illicit psychoactive her lover had fed her -- pain was just another sensation to be savored, to lie back and luxuriate in like a warm bath or a sensual massage.

"Honey?" Z's icy voice seemed to slither from between Tam's thighs. "I thought I was a bitch. Isn't that what you called me, you little whore?"

"Mmmm." Tam tried to form words, but it was difficult. "I'm sorry. You're not a bitch. You're my mistress. You own me. You own my cunt, baby."

A chuckle. "Not good enough. You still need to learn manners."

Her tongue flicked aggressively, and Tam felt another wave of hot, uncontrollable passion swell up from it, filling her belly and rising to join the sharp pain of her tormented nipples. She moaned wordlessly.

"What did I say I'd do if you called me a bitch again?"

"Mmmm." Words refused to emerge.

The harsh touch of teeth, and a tugging on her clit. Oh god...

"You said..." Another moan. She was going to cum in a moment. "You said you'd beat the shit out of me, honey."

The pressure was harder. The clit-ring was held in Z's teeth and she pulled back harshly. More pain/pleasure... God, what was the difference?

"Beat the shit out of you? Is that what I said?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Should I do it?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"What should I do again?" Oh, it was rising now. Unstoppable. Irresistable.

"You should... Oh, god. Oh, fuck." Tam tensed, digging her nails into her nipples, her belly straining upward. "You... Should... beat the shit out of me... Mistress."

Z's lips encircled the pierced clit and her tongue flicked at it again and again. Hot waves rolled through Tam's body. She released Tam's clit for a moment and whispered hotly.

"What's the magic word, slut?"

Tam swallowed hard, waves of orgasm still coursing through her.

"Please." She only barely managed to articulate the word with the proper level of longing and submission. "Please beat the shit out of me, Mistress."

Z slipped back to scan Tam's body, reflected in the dispassionate curved surface of her shades. Then she lowered them, revealing her ice-blue gaze, utterly commanding and merciless. Tam felt herself cumming again just at the touch of her mistress' regard.

"Well," she whispered, "since you asked so nicely..."

***

The black coach took shelter from the rain, gliding silently into the secure parking garage, subjecting itself to a half-dozen scans before the armored gate rolled upward, granting access. Inside, Tam barely felt the cessation of motion as the coach slid into Z's private spot, noticing only when the door swung upward, and the garage's recycled air filled the cabin.

Z took her hand and began to lead her through the open door. She found it hard to walk straight as the entire garage spun around her.

"My... my boots..." Tam mumbled, vaguely realizing that save for her fishnets she was entirely naked below her waist. "I... should..."

"Later," Z snapped, her cold tone once more compelling obedience. "I like you just like this. You come with me."

Tam followed dreamily, cement warm beneath her stockinged feet. Yeah, she was half-naked, pussy and ass exposed for the world to see. What the fuck did it matter? Everything was automated... Maybe they'd give some rentcop a thrill when he reviewed the video...

The elevator opened for them, private access to the top floors where execs and billionaires lived in isolated, climate-controlled luxury. Tam followed meekly, her street-bred confidence fading as it always did when she visited her lover, and realized what different worlds they inhabited.

But as soon as it had made itself known, fear and apprehension melted into more excitement, as if her brain had suddenly shifted them to a different processor that produced only pleasure. That damned drug...

Tam wondered what it was.

The thought of security guards watching the video feed, either live or on review struck Tam again, and the strange euphoria that swam in her brain made her scan the elevator interior from one side to the other. There was nothing to indicate where the elevator's surveillance system was located.

"Where's the camera?" she asked Z, who stood stone-faced beside her.

Z paused for a moment, then glanced upward. "All around you. One at each corner."

Tam suppressed a giggle. It was strange. She never giggled when she was sober. Her gaze sought out the corner to the left of the elevator and she flashed a grin.

"Hi," she said. "We're going to her apartment and she's going to beat the shit out of me."

Her grin widened, she shook her head, setting her countless tiny braids in motion, then pulled up her tank top, letting her breasts shake free. Putting her hands under them, she held them up to the camera, presenting them like a fruit vendor in a market stall. Her piercings gleamed.

"Like 'em?" she asked. "They're really big, aren't they?"

Z cast her a glance. Her eyes were again invisible behind her visor, but Tam knew she was regarding her with a withering stare.

"Behave yourself," she said sharply. "Or it will go worse for you."

Now Tam really did giggle. "Promise?"

***

Z occupied the entire top floor of course... Anything less would be unbecoming for an executive VP of a major corporation like IDS. It was one of the most secure places in the city -- ten stories above the tumult of the streets, under constant observation by a small army of security personnel, with an armed response to danger within 60 seconds. Inside was a cool refuge of leather, chrome and glass, with formal dining room, cavernous bedrooms, and bathtubs big enough to swim in.

Oddly enough, Tam preferred her flop back in the Coops, where at least she knew where everything was. But if Z wanted her to come over, she came like a good girl.

And now Z ordered her into her special bedroom, carefully concealed behind a hidden door, where she only took her very special guests.

"So I'm a bitch, am I?" Z's voice was as stern as a drill sergeant's, and although she couldn't see her lover from where she was, Tam knew she was swinging her arm with all the strength she could muster. A sharp, painful impact against Tam's jiggling ass cheek a moment later confirmed this.

Tam was still clad only in her tank top -- Z had been too impatient to strip her completely, but only ordered her to kneel on the black satin sheets that covered the huge bed, her hands on the headboard. Leather shackles dangled there, and Z had slipped them around her wrists with practiced familiarity.

Tam gritted her teeth as another blow came down on her unprotected ass. She spied a faint flicker off to one side, and when she looked she saw that Z had switched on the video system.

Yes, there she was in profile, almost completely naked save for her top, which made her exposure even more stimulating. It was pushed up to her neck and her breasts hung down, pillowed against the slick satin beneath her. Her hair was scattered around her in chaotic but picturesque disarray. The curve of her belly grazed the coverlet as well, and her ass was raised up atop her thick pale thighs. Then she saw Z.

In her psychoactive state, it seemed to Tam that her lover had never been so beautiful. She'd shed her goggles, revealing her angular, commanding expression, her cropped blond hair like a crown, her lips now gleaming black, her eyes hard and domineering.