Sisterhood of the Iron Mind

I surveyed myself in the large mirror. The vanity cycled through a few lighting arrangements, and my subtle makeup was immaculate in each. The only strands of sable hair out of place were the two locks framing my face. My white-gold accessories, inlaid with sapphires, glistened against my pale skin. Red lips curled into an invincible smile, for whether I was dressed for a party or a fight, I was striking.

The expression faltered a bit as I reminded myself what I was getting dressed up for. This conference was a rare break for me, and I'd wanted to spend it gallivanting with my boyfriend who I hadn't seen in months. Instead he was getting pulled from meeting to meeting, me hanging on his arm and nodding along as he explained the minutiae of his new weapons system in terms just specific enough to be threatening. And every late night we returned, we'd count the hours until we had to be up and about and turn in disappointed.

I shook the thoughts from my head, setting my bun bouncing. This event, at the very least, would be one for us to remember. I stood from the chair, reaching my arms above my head and standing on my toes as I stretched the tightness from my body. My black silk robe rose with the motion, revealing creamy thighs. I looked over my shoulder at the sound of the door behind me.

It opened to reveal a tall, slim man in a navy tuxedo and matching bowtie. He was enjoying my pose, especially the glimpse of my supple rear revealed by lifting fabric. After he'd had his fill, his gaze met mine. "Still not dressed, Livia?" he asked. There was no impatience or attitude in the question, only surprise.

I dropped my arms and sauntered out from behind the chair, a mischievous grin playing across my features as I reached for the belt of my robe. I pulled it as I replied, "I wanted you to be here for the big reveal." I shrugged off the garment, baring myself to him. His eyes were fixed on my full breasts--exactly where I wanted them.

I reached up and pressed the small pendant on my necklace, my plainest piece of jewelry. Immediately, fabric seemed to flow from my decolletage in emerald waves. In moments, my bare skin was covered in an off-shoulder mermaid dress. It perfectly contained my hourglass figure, and the color complemented my azure accessories.

His brow furrowed at my concealment, before unfurling in surprise. "Is that holographic?" he asked. But where I'd expected him to be amazed or allured, I sensed more apprehension in his tone.

"Yes, it is," I replied, swaying from side to side. The dress matched my movements, its folds fluttering as real fabric would. "The necklace has an emitter. The Sisterhood has been experimenting with the tech, and one of my connections got me an early prototype."

He pursed his lips. After scratching his dark beard, he replied, "I'm impressed at the realism, but I'm not sure how I feel about you going around... naked." He looked me up and down as he said it. The dress was visually indistinguishable from a real one, but from the reddening of his face and the tension in his neck, it was clear my pseudo-decency was doing things to him.

I laughed at his bout of modesty. "What if something happens and I need to start using my powers? Then I'd actually be naked," I replied. A real dress made of mundane materials would block my psionic output, and my stomach roiled at the idea of needing to strip down in an emergency. But as far as my powers were concerned, this hologram didn't even exist. I could exert even more of my abilities than if I were wearing my psysuit.

"You think Mr. Castellan would try to kidnap me or something?" Reid asked, eyebrows up again. "That would make an enemy of everyone else at the conference. And besides, even if he did, I'll have my bodyguards." He'd taken on a reassuring tone, seeming more concerned with soothing me now rather than convincing me to put something on.

But however trusting my boyfriend was, we'd both heard enough of Leandro Castellan to know the only thing keeping him from kidnapping Reid would be thinking he couldn't get away with it. I got so close to Reid my unobstructed breasts were almost pressing against his stomach, then reached up and tapped a finger against his temple. "There are a lot of people who would kill for those ideas you've got in here."

He smiled down at me and put his hand over mine, moving it down to caress his bristly cheek. "Well, that is your area of expertise. I'll leave it to your judgement." He kissed the palm of my hand before releasing it.

My heart fluttered at his surprise attack, but I quickly recovered with a sly grin. "Good. Now help me get my shoes on." I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. I reveled in the feeling of my unimpeded psionics as I looked across the room to my black slingback heels. I telekinetically pulled them between me and Reid, then got up on one leg, using him as support.

But rather than holding my waist or putting his arms under my shoulders to support me, Reid had other plans. He reached between us, grabbing big handfuls of my tits. Thanks to the lack of actual material covering me, he made direct contact with my nipples. It was his turn to smirk as he took advantage of the situation, teasing and pinching the sensitive nubs while I was balancing and trying to slide into my shoes.

I gasped against the interference, trying to focus on the finicky footwear. I teetered dangerously as I raised my foot and reached down to tug the ankle strap. He steadied me with a firm grip on my ass. I planted my foot on the floor once I'd gotten the shoe on, resting my head against his chest and panting. One more to go.

He was even more merciless now that I was balancing on my heeled foot. One hand stayed clamped on a nipple, but the other slid between my legs. He pushed two fingers into my moistening slit, earning him a squeal of protest as he began to correct my leaning through the connection. Whenever I started to tip over, I was met with firm pressure on my folds, encouraging me to correct my stance.

I managed to get the other shoe on despite his meddling. But I was still rooted in place by his grip on me. I looked up at him in a daze as he leisurely teased me, his fingers caressing my inner walls and his thumb joining the action to trace tantalizing circles around my clit.

He looked down at my state, eyes sparkling with amusement as he was greeted with the sight of his hands passing straight through his trembling girlfriend's dress. "I'm starting to see the appeal." But we both knew we didn't have time for him to finish me off. He withdrew to wipe his glistening fingers on his handkerchief, leaving an aching need where his touch had been.

I shivered as I was roused from my stupor. I borrowed his handkerchief, wiping the arousal off my thighs before returning the cloth for him to fold and stow in his breast pocket. We made our way to our suite's exit, the station's door sliding open for us.

As we exited into the plushly carpeted and lavishly decorated hallways, I became conscious of my breasts swinging freely in front of me. Although the hologram was keeping everything covered, the lack of support was quickly becoming a nuisance. I concentrated, telekinetically holding my chest in place the way a bra would. I sighed with relief at the stability.

Noticing Reid's interest, I pushed them up to exaggerate my size and shape. If his reaction was anything to go by, the effect, combined with the off-shoulder neckline, was arresting. He balled his hands into fists, no-doubt resisting the temptation to start playing with my tits again.

We quickly arrived at the elevator, which took us down to the main level of the station. A dozen burly men were waiting for us, Reid's security detail. They were all dressed in flattering tailored suits, and even I could only tell they were armed to the teeth thanks to the spatial awareness brought on by my powers. Other than the ear pieces and subtle bulges at their sides and chests, they looked ready for a ball.

As we walked side-by-side, surrounded by guards, I became intensely aware of the fact that I was completely nude save my shoes and jewelry in the middle of the station. There was no fabric brushing against my legs as I walked, no constriction or support beyond what my powers were providing. I kept glancing down as we traversed the halls. Each time, I was reassured by the sight of emerald satin rather than the naked curves I was expecting.

"Are you doing alright?" Reid asked, noticing my disconcertion. "You could go back to the room to change if you want. Mr. Castellan won't mind as long as I'm on time."

"I'm fine," I insisted, perhaps too emphatically. I forestalled his reassurance, "It's just a bit odd. I'll get used to it." And it was true; with every step, the incongruity between what I was feeling and what I was seeing diminished. It helped that his security, disciplined as they were, were having no issues keeping their eyes off me.

He leaned closer, whispering so that only I could hear, "I'm not sure this is the sort of thing I want you getting used to, Livia." He placed a firm hand on the small of my back.

I reflexively straightened my spine as the warmth of his skin on mine sent a jolt up me. His point was well made--there was nothing stopping him from moving his hand just a few inches lower and grabbing my bare ass. And just a few inches lower than that... I pushed away thoughts of how he'd already taken advantage of my wardrobe. Definitely not the sort of thing I should be getting used to.

I started to practice fighting the urge to look down. I wondered if this whole exercise had been a mistake, since I was already on edge from the prospect of Reid's private meeting with Leandro Castellan. The man said he just wanted to discuss more specialized applications of the technology Reid had developed, which reeked of pretense. I took in a deep breath and reminded myself that that suspicion was the very reason I was wearing this absurd outfit. The less skin I was covering, the more powerful I was. My discomfort was a small price for Reid's safety.

By the time we reached the observation lounge, I at least looked more confident than I felt. Reid had kept his hand on me, though now I found it more soothing than stimulating. The head of Reid's security opened the door, then motioned for us to enter.

The invitation had described the event as a "soirée", and it certainly looked the part. About a dozen tuxedo'd men and a handful of women in evening gowns congregated around standing tables before the huge window overlooking the burnt orange gas giant the station orbited. Soft chamber music resonated from the string quartet, and a number of sharply-uniformed waiters offered hors d'oeuvres to the attendees. There was even an open bar at the far end of the room. A security detail the same size as Reid's stood inconspicuously along the wall opposite the window.

If my count was right, Leandro Castellan had brought his company's entire delegation to this "soirée". Reid was certainly the star of the conference, but was he really important enough to warrant such a show of diplomatic force? But even my intense suspicion could do little do distract me from my (lack of) clothing. Though I was able to avoid looking down at myself, I could not ignore how my naked body was moving in this room full of people who were so interested in it.

The slightest movement seemed to set my voluptuous figure trembling, and I had to force myself into the straight-backed, chest out posture I usually held so confidently as I fought the instinct to hide my uncovered tits. What was I supposed to do with my hands? How much longer could I keep this pleasant smile on my face? And the temperature control, kept low to account for the heat generated by so many people, only made things worse. Not only did it have my nipples stiffening, but as the chill met my lower lips, I realized I was still damp from Reid's teasing. I barely resisted the compulsion to slam my thighs together.

Reid picked up the slack I was dropping, making use of all of the newfound experience he'd built meeting and greeting over the course of the conference. I was happy to play the part of Reid's empty-headed arm candy. It made good cover for the visceral dread my head was actually full of.

Between pleasantries, I scanned the group with my powers. No one seemed armed besides the security, and none of the women were psions. The potential threat aside, there was another reason I was glad for that; another kineticist would realize I wasn't wearing anything.

Before long, the man himself approached. He was even taller than Reid, clean-shaven with raven hair. His youthful countenance lit up into a grin as he crossed the room with a confident stride. "Mr. Holt, Ms. Shaw. Such a pleasure." He extended his hand to Reid.

Reid took the handshake, which was firm but polite. Castellan didn't try to demonstrate strength or pull Reid around, keeping the exchange almost nonchalant despite the formidable presence of his army of minions behind him. They were all watching our exchange of greetings.

Despite Reid being the one summoned here to be... whatever they planned to do with him, I couldn't help but notice that most of the attention of Castellan's entourage was focused on me. My practice paid off as I kept my chin up and eyes forward. I was used to being leered at, but seeing such intense looks directed at me when I was technically naked was dizzying.

Reid replied, "Please, call me Reid. The pleasure is mine." His smile had a nervous tinge to it. He'd grown more used to dealing with corporate bigwigs as his designs had garnered more and more attention over the years, but facing down the owner of a Corporate Authority was on another level.

Then Castellan turned his attention to me. His smile broadened, though he kept his gaze fixed on mine as he held out his hand to me. I accepted the gesture, but rather than shaking my hand, he pulled it up to his chin. He bent down slightly as if to kiss it, though his lips did not quite reach my skin, and his eyes never strayed from his grip on me.

Reid's arm snaked around my waist, holding me more possessively as I drew my hand back, stunned by the interaction and the feeling of my boyfriend grabbing my bare hips while a crowd of people were staring at me. Though I had a feeling my cleavage was too distracting for them to notice Reid's fingers passing through the false folds of my fabric.

"My apologies, I forget this manner of greeting is unusual in other Corporate Authorities," Castellan said. This was obviously false, but he was accommodating our admittedly extreme reactions to it.

Seeming to struggle to come up with an appropriate reply, Reid heaped on the formality, "I'm honored to receive an apology from someone of such esteem. And that you would receive us with such a strong welcome." He shot a dark look at the spectators, clearly more affronted by the effect they were having on me than by Castellan's touch.

"I hope I have not made you uncomfortable," Castellan replied, mirroring Reid's look to the crowd. Most of them took the point and turned their attention to the rest of the party, though there was still the occasional sidelong glance. Castellan continued, "Have you seen the planet from the observation lounge? It's quite the sight." He led us to a table right in front of the observation window. Reid kept a defensive grip on me, though his touch only served to intensify the urge to check that the emitter was still working. I kept my eyes on the swirling amber clouds of the planet below us.

Once we were situated, Castellan made a show of waving away a waiter offering a tray of scottadito. Then he threw protocol out the airlock and asked, "Mr. Holt, how would you feel about coming to work for Montefiore Investment Partners?"

Reid's reply was a strangled noise which sounded close enough to "Huh?" He stared, wide-eyed at Castellan, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hip as he struggled to process what he'd just heard. "Mr. Castellan," he managed after a few moments, "That is not funny."

"Of course it wasn't; I'm being serious," Castellan replied. He still had on that cheerful smile, but there was the hint of a shadow past it. "I can offer you ten times whatever you're being paid now. I'd be happy to up a counteroffer from your current employer, but I'd wager their counter would be less of an 'offer' and more of a kidnapping." He nodded to the head of Reid's security, who was watching the exchange from across the room.

"Livia's under contract," Reid replied, shaking his head as he went to the first excuse that seemed to come to mind. "And her licensor has intercorporate jurisdiction. Even if you poach me, she can't just leave her current position."

"She's not working for your employer, is she? I'm sure enough money could buy her out," He turned to me and smiled. "I'll even ensure she gets a new job in our territory."

I started to recover from the initial shock as the conversation shifted toward me. This was so outside my expectations that I was mostly relieved Castellan didn't seem to be planning to take Reid by force. My primary concern was now the throng of onlookers. Channeling the energy brought on by the temptation to look over my shoulder, I leaned into Reid and joked, "Maybe I should just retire to spend more time with you. My job keeps me so busy."

Reid fixed me with a sincere expression, his voice as rock steady as his hand on me as he replied, "Even if I don't accept Mr. Castellan's offer, I already make more than enough money to support you." His second surprise attack of the day had my face flushing for reasons entirely unrelated to my attire.

Castellan watched the exchange with a soft smile that almost conveyed a sort of fatherly pride. He countered, "Vacation time, then. You've already had the big idea; I just want to be one of the ones taking advantage of it. I could even put you on a paid sabbatical while my men figure out what to do with your designs."

Reid paused, though from the slight wonder with which he regarded Castellan, it was clear there was more on his mind than how to refuse again. After a few moments, he said, "Now that you mention it, my boss would probably love the chance to get me off his back about implementation. I can probably talk him into a raise and a sabbatical."

Castellan laughed at the suggestion, undeterred. "I won't offer you ten times the sabbatical, but I can offer gene therapy. You and your partner, young and beautiful for the rest of your extended lifespans. Even if you work the same hours, think of how much more time you'll have together."

Reid and I exchanged the same look: eyebrows raised, eyes wide. Gene regeneration was technology reserved for the corporate nobility, and he was offering it to not one, but two people? But noticing Reid's continued reluctance, I shot back, "That's a lot of commitment."

Castellan's suppressed chuckle was drowned out by Reid's incredulous, "Excuse me?" He was even more taken-aback at my snipe than Castellan's offer, though he rolled his eyes and smiled when he caught onto my faux-uncertainty. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Well, even if she stays this hot forever, I'd hate for you waste such a huge investment. And I shudder to think of what will happen with my intellectual property rights in a divorce."

But Castellan was persistent in his attempts to win Reid over. Even as Reid proved surprisingly adept at coming up with justifications for why he simply could not accept the piles of money Castellan was throwing at him, each was smoothly dismantled or explained away.

I chimed in on occasion, alternating between teasing Reid over his dogged refusal and buttressing his weaker excuses. The rhythm was reassuring, and I became more and more convinced Castellan had no intention of forcing the issue. I even began to forget the lengths I'd gone to in preparation for that scenario.