Heavy Weapons - Sweet Venom

Splayed out across silken sheets, Moltezz yawned softly as she stretched her muscular limbs out, one at a time. The ORG-aided transfer of equipment from Barru X had allowed them to bring most of their belongings onto the dreadnought before hastily leaving the sector, long before any money hungry mercs got close. However, the departure had been quick, and as a result, Moltezz's temporary room (whilst she picked out a more fitting permanent accommodation from within the ship) was a little more cluttered than the Mistress would have liked, but adequate for the time being. Lit by a seductive amber glow from within, her room carried a highly suggestive, spice-laden warmth that filled the lungs with each breath taken.

A slow growing, satisfied grin found its way onto her face as she heard a muffled, low moan coming from within her room. She sat upright within the sheets, rolling her neck to one side, then the other. Her oversized queen bed was in the centre of the room, currently without its usual ceiling drapings. To her left was her weight rack and bar, lain with heavy industrial black rubber mats underneath. Current weight; two and a half tons of high-density tungsten, either side of the bar. To her other side was a wardrobe, with a mirror door on one side and a rack of drawers on the other. A set of black, lacy underwear was draped teasingly on one of the handles, along with a leather crop whip. Opposite the bed, however, were two of the Mistress' custom-made stalls, durable constructions designed to sit and hold a single occupant and expose their genitals and hands on the outside of the stall, allowing others to simply help themselves to the person - and holes - within.

Both of the stalls were currently occupied, one by Kross - her pelvis chained up and her exposed bum cheeks wearing many red, sore looking lashes each. The other stall occupied the rich, night blue scales of Mook. Still chained and bound but not lashed to quite the same extent as Kross's buttocks. Both were covered in a thick layer of glowing amber goo, pooling under both units in copious puddles, along with claw and pressure marks in the wood panelling around where both girls' hands protruded from the stalls, firmly locked in place.

Moltezz pulled herself up from the bed, the sheets slipping from her frame to reveal her nakedness in all its muscular, powerful glory. She immediately felt the pull towards Kross, deep within her chest, her bones, but she turned away, towards the weight bar and settled herself above it. She twisted her neck a couple of times before squatting down and clamping her hands around the metal. With one slow and deliberate inhale, she heaved the bar upwards in a controlled, powerful motion. It rose off the floor like it was made of feathers, despite the bar sagging from the sheer weight fixed to its ends, rising as her thighs and hips straightened out. She held it firmly for ten seconds, mouthing them quietly as they passed before she dropped it to the floor with an earth-shaking thud, causing both Kross and Mook to flinch in their stalls.

She made it effortless, like she always did. The urge was buried for a moment under the rush of blood from her thunderous heart. There was nothing like starting your day with a five ton deadlift to set the tone.

Satisfied with her morning weights, she clapped her hands together loudly and paced over to the wardrobe, idly flicking flames around her palm in one hand. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, her dreadlocks continuing to return back to their curling state, the crystals adorning her carapace were looking more and more vibrant with every day that passed. As she picked through the drawers for something to wear, a knock tapped gently against her door.

"Mistress? Are you awake?" Tani asked politely.

"Good morning, Tani. I am, please come in." Moltezz responded quickly, searching for the right outfit.

The rabbit quickly pushed the door open and slid into the room with an almost giddy look on her pretty face, which only deepened as she laid eyes on the rear of Moltezz's naked body.

"Morning, Mistress! Salem has been in touch this morning! Y-You didn't mention you were going to do a video!"

"I didn't plan to. The sex bot was trying to get a rise out of me so I decided to put her in her place. On the sidelines. What did Salem want?"

"He said the video shoot you did with Kay-Ex was... Well, he paused and said it was 'most entertaining' and has sky-rocketed on the nightweb already! He said that A-tier clients are begging to see you and if you're willing, he'd be open to discussing arrangements for significant money."

A wicked grin spread over the Mistress' face as her fingers plucked at the straps of her various outfits.

"Mhmm. Good." She snickered, turning to face Tani. "Tell him no."

Try as she might, Tani's eyes could not halt their draw to the absurd length between Moltezz's legs. But the rabbit's fluster only amused Moltezz further and she playfully approached the Node with a deliberate swing of her hips.

"The Mistress only comes when she wants to, not when called. Right, Tani?"

"R-Right, Mistress! Shall we go for breakfast?"

"Hmm. We shall, but there is someone I need to see first. Did Leech return last night?" Moltezz asked with a raised eyebrow, tapping her chin with a single clawed finger.

"I don't think so. She's still aboard Sunset Rook."

"She might be enjoying herself. Fine. We shall visit our newest recruit first!" She proclaimed proudly, spinning back towards the wardrobe. "But the question remains, straps or thigh highs?"

"Thigh high, Mistress. Every time." Tani hummed with delight, gently squeezing her eyes closed as a pleasant shiver ran through her body.

"Tell the girls to unhook Kross and Mook, they've had their punishment. We have a new Controller to meet!"

*

Now dressed in her brown leather attire, consisting of thigh high boots, a mini skirt that did not fully shelter her manhood and an undersized coat that barely contained her bust, Moltezz strode proudly through the dreadnought's stone-lined corridors, to where her latest Controller was waiting.

She entered a large, derelict training room, somewhat resembling a dojo with its wooden flooring and hefty pillars that dotted the room at regular intervals close to its walls. It was still in the process of being cleaned up, several Slaves were toiling away in the background, their faint purple eyes barely visible under the dim lighting as they hauled chunks of rotten materials away. To the far end of the room were a row of wooden training dummies, with solid wooden heads and torsos, suspended via tort ropes and chains.

But from within the murk of the dojo resided their reward from last night, currently hanging upside-down like a bat from one of the ceiling joists. She floated gracefully, as though weightless, only suspended by a single foot that gripped the metal work securely by her toes. Upon hearing Moltezz enter the room, she spun around slowly, swapping feet to maintain her grip.

Crystal white skin coated a muscular, tort body of well-honed death. Her iron-grey carapace crown had an almost aquatic design to its sweeping, fan-like horns that frame her steely gaze. Black lips and fierce, blood red eyes with a smattering of black freckles at their outer corner give her an attractive, if stern-looking face. A spike collar of carapace hugged her neck and upper chest, along with a set of shoulder pad carapace that gives an almost mediaeval-torturer look to her otherwise ecto-elegant palette. An elaborate pattern of black dancing tribal death marks and lightening bolt tattoos coated her thighs and hips, surprisingly undistorted by her growth in size. Finally a long series of jelly dreadlocks, matching the intense crimson of her eyes, would usually run down to her middle of her back, but were currently hanging down like a cascading fall of blood, barely brushing the floor. Her vivid aesthetic was as captivating as it was alarming, resembling that which spilled so often on a fresh canvas.

She stretched her free leg out to the side, almost like a ballerina. Despite holding her entire body weight up, she showed zero sign of strain or discomfort. She would look rather carefree, if it wasn't for the cutting stare that seemed a permanent feature of her otherwise attractive face. She had bound her hips and chest with black bandages as the corruption had done what she'd expected: Massively increase the size of her sexual organs. But she wasn't as overwhelmingly large as she could have been. For any reasonable person she was still very busty, somewhere between Plum and Leech in terms of size. A single short blade laid on the floor in front of her, now undersized for her strider stature.

"Look at you!" Moltezz beamed proudly. "Glorious, beautiful death. How do you feel now you're one of us?"

Her stern gaze flicked over to Tani for a second, before landing back on Moltezz's eyes.

"This urge... does it ever change? Does it weaken?" Her voice was still barely more than a ghostly whisper, but it held a noticeably more synthy tone to it now, only further elevating its haunting profile.

"The urge? No. You can acclimatize to it, but it never actually weakens. I suggest at least one session per day, but you can have as many as you want as long as you're still performing your role adequately."

"Hmm." She grunted, making no effort to hide her dissatisfaction. "I used to... copulate... once per year. If that. Now I will have to do it once per day? Otherwise my bones feel like they're being pulled from their sockets?"

Moltezz met her scolding ire with a knowing grin.

"Best sex of your life though. Indulge it, it will make you stronger."

She hissed briefly and shifted her weight, adjusting her body and bringing her leg back in.

"Pleasant as it is, it's very distracting."

"Yes, yes it is. Which is why you need to indulge often. You will learn what frequency you require indulgence at and I highly recommend you adhere to it. Was your induction with the Trio suitable? Did they brief you properly?"

"It was. They were... very kind."

"And did you decide on a name for yourself?" Moltezz asked, stepping forward. "As I don't think 'Three Eight' is a suitable name, personally."

The Controller hesitated for a second, her stern gaze briefly faltering with uncertainty.

"Aranych."

"Wonderful to meet you, Aranych. Aside from the urge, how are you finding the new you?"

"This body is strong." She replied quickly, seemingly thankfully for the change in subject. "I wasn't sure what to expect, but you were correct when you said it would be an upgrade."

"Of course I was, darling. I know you had concerns about your stealth capabilities, have they been rectified?"

"You tell me."

She dropped to the floor, landing with a barely audible thump and in a single motion, swiped her blade from the ground and slung it across the room in a straight line. The blade whistled through the air and split the head of a training dummy, sending a shower of splinters through the air as the blade slammed into the wall behind it, stuck deep into the stone.

In less than a blink, she was already back on her feet, standing up straight in front of Moltezz. The Mistress clapped twice in response, meeting Aranych's ever unyielding stare with a warm smile.

"For someone over eight feet tall, you barely make a noise at all! Most impressive! We shall find a role for your skills in no time at all! Once we have you equipped anyway, those bandages are not suitable for a girl of your calibre." Moltezz tutted, shaking her head. "We shall find something tight and tactical for you. With a touch of Rewritten flare of course."

"What is my role?" Aranych asked cautiously, watching Moltezz closely.

"What do you want it to be?" Moltezz asked back sincerely.

"Like I said, I like to hunt. The thrill of combat. It's my home." Aranych replied, pulling her dreadlocks straight behind her back with a single hand. "I might need to refine my strategy but I see no reason why I couldn't continue that. This form has remarkable physical capabilities."

Moltezz nodded in thought, pacing around the dojo casually as she collected her ideas. Both Tani and Aranych remained still, watching the Mistress from their respective spots.

"Do you have any experience in non-lethal take-downs and capture?"

"Some. But I am mostly elimination."

"Mhm. It's become obvious to me that we need more specialist target incapacitation. My prince has at least one Controller at his side who renders our forces inoperable, and she is a capable threat even to other Controllers. I need dedicated huntress units, people who can operate away from the horde comfortably and... disable... our enemies."

"Disable? Not eliminate?"

"Ideally. Diego is non-negotiable, hurting him will draw my temper, to put it politely. But killing Seeth would be so incredibly boring. The girl has such potential and helped establish our cause at the very beginning. I would very much prefer to keep her alive, but not at the cost of your own life of course. But she needs to be dealt with. I need someone fast, trained and capable. Someone like you."

"This Seeth, is she dangerous?" Aranych asked with a growing note of interest.

"Oh, remarkably. Word of her mercenary work has spread far. She's brawled with Barons and personally taken down the biggest of us, Ink. I dare say she could take on anyone but me. And that is no insult. Does that sound like a worthy primary task for now?"

Tani caught the hint of a grin on Aranych's face, the glimmer of a fang visible from the girl's onyx lips. The first and only smile she'd shown the entire time.

"Consider it done. She will fall. Either onto her knees, or into the abyss."

*

Within Sunset Rook - Leech's Black Laboratory

*

A long, tired sigh escaped Leech's parched lips as she sunk into her chair. The sound of the heartbeat monitor had become background noise hours ago, but she still clung onto its beep, worried for if it might fall silent.

She was positioned in the corner of the lab on a heavy duty but comfortable armchair, dragged into the lab at her request. A scattering of dried coffee mugs littered the work surface to her side, having long given up on using a coaster some time into the night. To her side on the other side of the room, a vast plastic bin was full of fowl-smelling medical waste, discarded tissue and viscera that had been trimmed away, as well as waste fluid which had been pumped from her project's body.

And yet, the body herself laid still.

A massive curtain had been strung through the middle of the room, shielding the czarite and offering both Venter and Leech visual space within the lab.

Several heavy metal liquid tanks were resting in another corner of the room, their contents drained and used. They had various letters written on them in chalky, coloured writing: L, I and BG.

A whiteboard on wheels had been pulled into the lab and had various, messy, tired scribbles over it, as well as a detailed drawing of the czarite in question, with various annotations spidering off her.

Leech struggled to stay awake as she rested on one arm, her eyes heavy and low. The door swished open and shut and woke her a bit as Venter padded back into the room, holding two more cups of coffee.

He made his way over and offered a cup to Leech, which the Controller took with a tired, low "thanks" given in response. Pulling a metal stool over, the two sat in tired but not uncomfortable silence, sipping their drinks with nothing but the mellow beeps of the heart monitor to warm the room.

"Do you think she'll make it?" Venter asked quietly, blowing some steam off the top of his mug.

"Honestly? No idea. I've done everything I can. We've stripped as much dead flesh as possible, administered various healing serums and antibiotics as are compatible, and I've practically flooded the girl's blood stream with the best quality corruptant I have. But this is the longest I've ever seen it take to corrupt someone." Leech replied quietly. Despite how tired she was, she was in a good mood.

"Maybe it's the sheer mass of the lower body? Or the fact that it's not genuinely organic? The corruption would be bringing two separate genetic codes together, right?"

"Yeah, we've never seen what that'll do before. I'm half expecting her to just turn into some giant flesh monster. We're at the cutting edge of discovery here." She chuckled to herself, placing the coffee down. "What a crazy few days..."

"Yeah. That's one way of putting it."

Leech was happy to rest her eyes, despite the uncertainty of how the procedure went. But Venter shuffled around in his chair uncomfortably, glancing over at Leech repeatedly. He cleared his throat once, then again. And a third time. But the words wouldn't come to him.

The Controller smiled and shook her head, still keeping her eyes resting.

"Cmon, out with it, slut. I can feel you looking at me every time you nervously glance over like I'm your high school crush. Your homework sucks, you need help, let's talk about it."

"Would it be prudent to say I'm... worried about you?" Venter chuckled lightly, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"Worried?" Leech sat upright in her chair. "What for? This has been a lot of fun! And it's not the first time you've seen me conducting surgery either, did I finally gross you out?"

"No, no. It's not today I'm really referring to. This is... This is you at your best. I'm talking about the constant backchat and tension with Ink. And how you were super excited to see Bubblegum for two days straight but... but I mean, c'mon, she's avoiding you."

Leech sighed and went to retort, but nothing came out of her mouth. So the Controller pouted and twisted away instead, trying to gather her thoughts.

"And there's the failure of the DA operation. I know Moltezz said it's fine... I just worry about you. Maybe I'm overstepping my role as disposable lab assistant and fuck meat but -"

"You're not disposable, Venter. I promise you that. Fuck meat, definitely. But you've been more than useful to me. Valuable, maybe?"

"I wouldn't push it that far." He smiled shyly.

"Good idea. We wouldn't want anyone to think that me fucking you is personal. This is purely a professional relationship we have." Leech responded in her usual sarcastic tone.

"Absolutely." Venter snickered, before turning more serious once again. "But I am worried. You and Ink were so close before, now if you do anything at all, she storms off and you don't see her for the rest of the day. And the fact that Bubblegum missed a session with you tells me something is very off. She always turns up for a session."

"I don't think I'm in anyone's good books right now, Venter." Well, maybe there's one... "But you don't need to worry. I got through the worst of it. If I can survive that attack we literally threw ourselves into, I can survive anything. And Ink is just... she's more fragile than she looks. Emotionally, I mean. Physically the girl is built like a tank. I mean, she took the beating Seeth gave her and walked around like nothing happened!" Leech flexed her arms to illustrate the point, seemingly almost proud of Ink's durability. "But anyway, I'll win her back. I always do."

Venter hesitated. If Ink was more fragile than she appeared, then Leech was too. Behind the girl's mad scientist aesthetic, sharp eyes and sharper fangs was a soft heart.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. I just..." The wolf struggled to get the words out, and instead just shrugged after a few seconds of meandering murmuring.

"I get it. Noted, Venter." Leech smiled back genuinely. "I... appreciate your concern."

"You're getting better at this." He laughed, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Shut the fuck up, ya' scroungy little dishrag. Or I'll chain you to the cuck stool for a week."