Suited for Love - Ch. 01

Tomie shimmied up the ladder to her coffinbox apartment, her belly tucked in to hide the bulge of her hard-on. Nobody knew she had a dick, or at least she hoped they didn't, and everyday was a triathlon of keeping it hidden. She'd even chosen this apartment complex to keep her secret. Most places were equipped with biometric locks to get into your apartment, but being repeatedly scanned was a sure way to be discovered for what she was.

Pressed against the ladder, she dialed the keycode to her door then slipped inside head first. Sliding on her belly was torture, her dick pressing up into her navel, making her shiver and nearly drool as she pulled herself completely into her coffinbox. But before she could relieve herself, there was a ritual that had to be seen to. Laying on her back, with barely enough room to bend her knees, she made sure the curtain covered all the corners of the door's tiny window. Then, she looked over every one of her meager possessions, making sure nobody had been in here.

It wasn't that anybody would bother trying to steal her stuff, but rather that it was common for pervs to sneak cameras into coffinboxes to peek in on what little intimacy people still had. Not only did Tomie not want to be spied on in general terms, she couldn't afford being discovered, particularly not by perverts who would almost definitely sell her out to the authorities. And so she'd set up a delicate arrangement of things as security, to quickly see if anyone had tampered with her coffinbox: a string tied across the doorframe; a couple of her hairs precisely arranged on her pillow; an inimitable pattern of folds in her sheets. Fortunately, everything was still in place. It was time.

Tomie only had one set of clothes, her factory-issue onesie. And though she couldn't afford to cum all over it, she always kept it mostly on, just in case she needed to get out of her coffinbox quickly. And so, with a movement as practiced as if it were second nature, she popped open the front, slid her hands down, and got to work.

Her "real" job was not masturbating, this she knew. Her "real" job was working the tubes, running cables and pipework in places the automation always failed, where only a strong survival instinct meant you'd make it in and out without being fried or drowned or crushed. But in her mind, that was just something she had to do to survive, to keep up appearances, to earn just enough money to sustain herself. No, to Tomie, her "real" job, her vocation, her passion, the reason she lived and kept going, the reason she woke up and went through with everything the world had to throw at her, was for moments like these.

She tried not to think about her dick as her hand slid past it, tried not to touch it too much with her forearms. She had to cum, but not with that part. If she came with her dick, dealing with the mess would be hell. Even though she wanted more than anything to rub it, to thrust and jerk until she popped, she had to hold it back.

She wasn't sure if it helped or made things worse that she kept it taped to her belly, wrapped to her body with a few passes of white medical tape. The tape kept things in place, kept her dick from being seen, from moving around and poking against her onesie. But the tape also acted as a sleeve, and all day Tomie had to contain the urge to thrust into it, and the need might have killed her, if it wasn't for her other part. The part that lay patiently in wait beneath her dick, behind the round shape of her balls. It almost never called out to her as strongly as her dick, but it was always ready, and she was - Oh! So thankful for it...

With her right palm holding the front of her balls, her four fingers slid behind, and pressed down just above the nub of her clit. Tomie squeezed her teeth shut, her eyes barely able to open as she tried to contain herself. Even just this touch was nearly too much, nearly enough to sigh and moan in pleasure, but Tomie had restraint practiced down to a tee. In fact, she had this routine mastered, and knew exactly how to get herself off in just the right way to avoid making a mess, or being too loud, or taking too long. With her tried-and-true method, she'd cum just enough to sleep, then cum just enough in the morning to get through her day, and the next, and everyday after that. And if only she could keep this up, she might just survive long enough for it all to be worth it.

Slowly, she swirled her fingers in the mound above her clit, not quite on it but not too far away. If she let things get too intense too quickly, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back with her dick, and she'd risk an unexpected shot of cum. And though she had ways to deal with that, cleaning up would take time, and leave stains, and leave her more tired the next morning. No, she had to build it up deep, and slow, and move her focus away from the pulse of her dick. Tomie bit her lip to pull her attention away, clamped down on her mound and swirled her fingers again, then gently slid her left fingers along the seam of her thigh, and touched the folds of her lips.

Tomie bent forward with a shiver and squeezed her upper arms against her chest, squishing her tits together. This was it. Almost everything was in place, and she'd nearly forgotten about her dick. It wasn't raging anymore, or at least not in the spotlight. It was time for her Lady Bits to take center stage, and the show was hot.

Tomie's tongue ran out between her lips, wetting them, then slid back between her teeth while her lips glided over each other. With her arms pressed together just right, her nipples rubbed against her biceps, and a tingle ran down the lowest part of her spine. Her pelvis tilted back involuntarily, and Tomie would have done anything just then to have someone to squeeze and kiss as she drove forward again to meet her hands. With her balls cupped in her right palm, her fingers undulated over the crest of her clit, walking in circles over an itch deep inside. But she couldn't take too long, couldn't draw this out. She'd set up the foreplay just right, and now she just had to bring everything together.

With the reverence of someone entering a sacred temple, Tomie's left fingers neared her entrance. First she felt the dampness, the warmth, the pulling desire waiting within. She touched lightly, just enough to wet the belly of her fingers, then swiftly brought her hand up to her mouth and ran her fingertip over her lower lip. Again her lips rolled over each other as she smelled that sweet tang, then pulled it over her tongue. Like this, it was easy to imagine, just for a moment, as her left hand ran back down to her pussy, that it was her tongue, rather than her fingers, that slipped inside her, and pressed up against that most sensitive spot.

Tomie quaked, curled forward, her feet cramped and her arms trembling against her chest and her nipples. She bucked, only once, and breathed out in a quiet stutter until no air was left inside her. Nor any worry, or thought, or anything. Only release. Only pleasure. Only the sheer joy of having such an amazing body.

After a moment, Tomie eased her hands, relaxed her head down onto her pillow, and let her face come to rest. She would've given anything to keep going, just one more time. But she knew that there'd always be one more time. From those rare experiences Tomie had let herself try, she knew she could keep going, again and again, and never have enough. If she wanted to sleep, to get enough rest, this had to be enough, and so Tomie pulled her hands away from herself, and closed up her onesie once again, and curled up in her sheets, doing everything she could not to give any heed to her dick, still hard, pulsing between the tape and her belly.

She felt no shame for taking pleasure in herself. How could she, when the world wanted her to feel shame just for existing? And for Tomie, going through this ritual wasn't just about pleasure, it was about survival. If she didn't handle her urges like this, at least twice a day, she knew her body would take matters into its own hands and find some way to relieve itself. In fact, of all her habits, this was probably the healthiest one she had, aside from eating and sleeping, and had to be healthier than the last thing she always did before going to sleep: tuning into the news.

As soon as Tomie flipped on the only free channel of her viewer, cold dread replaced all the good her masturbation had just done.

A forced broadcast jumped onto her screen. Administrator Eddie Best stood behind a podium, his signature sleazy charisma dripping from behind his heavy makeup. Even before he began to speak, Tomie knew nothing good was going to come out of his mouth.

"I have no doubt," said Eddie Best, "that you all know what I'm here to say. For too long our society has been tainted by this plague. These people - no, not people - this filth, this unholy vermin has taken over our streets, our sacred properties. They are the cause of all our troubles. Believe me when I say, because I know what I'm talking about, that we'd be better off without them, the whole lot. They're bugs. An infestation. Now, I know, because nobody knows better than me, that you all know just what to do. Get out there my friends, and take back our city! Clean out every nook and cranny, until not one of them remains. In this, I grant you total immunity. Now GO!"

Tomie didn't even take anything with her as she pushed the coffinbox door open and slid back down the ladder. Nothing wakes you up quite as much as knowing that you're about to be killed, and she was feeling the most awake she'd ever been. Through the other thin-walled coffins, she heard the broadcast going on. Eddie Best would have more to say. He always had more to say. But Tomie knew didn't have to listen to know that soon people would be out in the streets, looking for freaks like her to pulverize.

She sped down the hall, determined not to stop for anything, headed straight for the lift. But she couldn't help slowing by one of the floor's only windows. There, she gawked in silence. One hundred and fifty floors up, she couldn't quite see the lower street levels, but already the chaos was clear. Fires spewed out from floors above and below. Mobs ran along the belts and bridges, bloodthirsty hatred for their victims who scattered in desperation. The spell broke as two flycars collided mid-air, fused into a heap of heated plastics and metal, and tumbled away into the night.

Tomie stepped back, shook herself, and disappeared into the nearest lift. Doors had never closed so slowly, and she took one last look at the rows of stacked coffins that had been her home since she'd been on her own.

Now, all she needed was to think of a plan.