35
Astra joined us at breakfast the next morning as though nothing had happened.
I glanced over at her, but she wasn't looking at me as she talked with Phoebe about their respective legs of the triathlon. We'd averaged into second place, but my huge lead from the first event left me on top of the charts and since the first place winner in the race hadn't been in the top twenty, nothing changed. At least, not for me.
We were still at the head table, and I was trying yet another red meat. So far I hadn't found one I liked, though they were all at least passable and nutritious.
What I wouldn't give for a good old-fashioned ribeye.
"Talk to her," Yim said, muttering at me out of the side of her muzzle. I glanced from Astra to Yim, who was sitting just next to me.
Shrugging, I said, "Not out here in public. No sense letting people know things they don't need to know."
"What if she doesn't come back to the suite after breakfast?" Yim asked.
"Sounds like something you should look into, doesn't it? I mean, you're not just my trainer. You're also my ally. Let her know I've got a few things to discuss with her."
"Why me?"
I blinked as I looked her in the eye and said, "You're the nicest person I know, outside Astra herself. She's a real sweetheart."
"You've barely had five minutes worth of actual conversation with her."
"My old man used to say he could spot an asshole in eight seconds or less," I said wryly. "Works the same for softies."
"I thought you weren't-"
"Yeah, I wasn't. Doesn't matter anymore, so fuck it. Let 'em all know for all I care. What are they going to do, pull me out of the game? Send me home?"
"It does seem unlikely," Yim conceded.
I nodded and waved a hand in absent dismissal as I said, "From now on, the gloves are off."
"The idea that you've been soft-pedaling so far terrifies me," Yim said.
"It shouldn't. Which reminds me: thanks for sticking with me after the way I used you during the sponsorship trial. I'm not sorry for what I did, but I don't think I ever thanked you properly afterward."
Yim gave me the head tilt, then said, "It was Pala's decision."
"Maybe, but you went along with it."
"I didn't have a choice ... but you are welcome. It seems to have been the right decision."
"On that note, you'll help me with Astra?"
Her head tilted the other way, then she showed her teeth and growled, "If you're going to play on my sympathies, try not to be so transparent."
"I won't deny that was the point of doing this now, but even if I hadn't needed your help with her I'd have gotten around to thanking you at some point. It needed saying."
Her ears flicked around in a way that told me she didn't quite know what to make of that, then she turned her attention to the food and said nothing more.
Since I was confident she'd do it, I didn't press.
The meat that morning tasted like bear.
Pass.
By the time I finished whoring myself out as cheap labor to the SDM locals for recommends or whatever they call it, Astra was waiting for me in the recording room. Rather, she was diligently practicing when I walked in, but stopped abruptly as the feathers on her cheeks spread to cover her beak.
"Relax," I said as I walked in and sat down on my stool. "I'd like to try something a little different with you today. Are you willing to work with me?"
She thought about it for a moment, giving me the impression she was seriously thinking of refusing, but at length she bobbed her whole body in an affirmation that was so cute it softened my cold, dead heart.
"What do you want to do?" she asked.
"I want to switch roles with you," I said, trying for a smile without teeth.
"You want me to sing the lead part? I haven't practiced it," she said, but I shook my head.
"No, that song's mine. For reasons I won't explain I am really looking forward to singing that one personally. But I have another one I wrote for you."
All the feathers across her body fluffed up, then smoothed down as she stretched her neck toward me, head turned so far it was almost upside down. It was bizarre. Her words were practically a squeak as she said, "You wrote a song for me?!"
"Mmhm," I said, though in truth I was just cribbing songs from other, better artists. Since I wasn't even in my own solar system anymore, I doubted anyone who'd mind would notice.
I offered her a data pad with all the notation and lyrics she'd need, setting it in the stand in front of her to make it easy for her to take it in. She'd memorized for our main song after some practice, but she demonstrated either a keen mind or a great deal of enthusiasm in working through the new material, because after only five minutes or so with close to zero punctuation she said, "Okay okay okay can I try it I'm ready I want to try it can I?"
"Sure. I recorded the instruments yesterday, so when you're ready I'll start it and we'll go through it. I'll back you up, though I don't have much. This will be all you."
She bobbed eagerly, so I started the track and let her give it a shot.
As God is my holy witness, she pretty much nailed it on the first try.
Now I gotta say some of that was my song choice. I had a feeling I knew how she felt, just based on our limited interaction, and I'd chosen the song to allow her to express some of those emotions.
But the rest of it, the voice, the power, the raw feeling ... that was all her, and she did so well that I wondered if I was just kidding myself. The song I'd chosen for me was quite literally a joke. It was a fun joke, and a catchy tune, but it was a joke nonetheless. Astra's singing had real emotion, and I think it put the piece I planned to sing to shame.
Nevertheless, I knew better than to ask her to swap with me. Given the stage fright she'd demonstrated with just Yim and I in the booth, she'd never go for being the main singer during the live performance.
So instead I asked, "Did you hear me?"
"Nope!" she said cheerfully. "Not a bit!"
Once she realized what she'd said her feathers covered her beak and she stared at me with a panicked expression until I burst out laughing.
"Why are you laughing?!" she asked, feathers fluffing in agitation as she hopped one way, then the other.
"You didn't hear me because you were focused on your own performance. That's fine, by the way. Here. Listen. I recorded us."
I started the playback, and she didn't move a muscle as she listened. Not so much as a feather twitched until it was over. Then I gently asked, "Did you hear me that time?"
Her head twisted as she stared at me out of one eye, then again as she looked at me with the other, as though getting something unique from each image. Then she said, "Yes yes! You sounded amazing! Your voice lifted mine up!"
"And yours will lift mine up when we sing that other song. That's how it's supposed to sound. Want to try?"
She did her enthusiastic bob, and before she lost her nerve I swapped the instrumentals and we gave it a shot. Then I went and dragged Yim in for another go and Astra stayed strong throughout.
Once it was over Astra begged Yim to stay and listen to the recording she and I had made. When it was over, Yim looked at me with wide eyes and forward ears.
I just smiled, folded my hands behind my head, and gave her my best self-satisfied look. Her lips pursed, but she had nothing to say.
Afterward, things were completely different with Astra. I've never seen someone pull a one-eighty personality shift like hers in my life, but once we finished for the day she spent the rest of it hopping around after me, singing snatches of the song I'd given her.
That happiness lasted until the late afternoon when I got a visit from a succubus I didn't recognize.
She was wearing a sexy, Santa red skirt and bodice over a white blouse. Her skin was black as night and her horns curled around her elfin ears like the drop handlebars of a road bike. With lips curled into a knowing smile in a face made for the camera, she gazed at me with blood-red eyes lit with an avaricious glint. Her hair was a startling white and drawn up into a topknot that flowed down almost to her waist. Her wings were jet and folded demurely behind her, their thumbs visible over her shoulders as she looked down on me from what had to be almost nine feet up.
Christmas was never my favorite time of year, and I couldn't help but think that if Krampus had an ex-wife, I was about to meet her.
It was hate at first sight.
The impression was further soured by the presence of not one, but two armed guards. Two multi-armed armed guards. Both were duoden and twitchy enough to demonstrate they'd been 'warned' about me in advance.
Krampus' ex said, "Hello Taz. My name is Duo Fells — I work with Director Lane. We received a proposal from SDM and I'm here to follow up on it. Step into the office over there."
I considered cutting to the chase, but I wasn't sure if it would help or hurt the cause to let Duo know I'd already spoken with Director Chosen about the 'proposal.' After a moment's thought I turned and walked into the office with the succubus sauntering after me and her goons trailing.
The girls were all looking my way but whether they knew anything was an open question, and none of them tried following us.
Once inside, one of the guards shut the door while the other folded his upper arms across his chest and set both lower hands on pistol butts as though he were a gunslinger ready to make his play.
It was comical, but since I really wasn't in the mood to get shot I didn't laugh. I knew whatever those guns did, they wouldn't kill me. That said, I was pretty sure whatever they did do wouldn't be worth the chuckle.
Duo strolled around the space, looking at the instruments and other paraphernalia with the air of someone who's never seen most of it but is only pretending to be curious. I waited in silence.
She said, "You are a creature with many hidden skills, Taz. Had you told us you were a competent singer while under our care we might have given you the means to further those skills."
I waited.
At length, she glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, then her lips parted in understanding as she said, "Ah, yes. 'You didn't ask a question.' Not one for making small talk. I understand. I'll get right to it then: Sex, Death, and Money has notified us that they'd be willing to produce an album of your music. Provided it catches on, it would make you an overnight sensation and quite dramatically improve your chances in the games by swaying the popular votes. Would you be interested in taking this unique opportunity?"
I made eye contact, then shook my head.
Her lips twisted, but she seemed not at all dissuaded as she said, "Compensation, right? It can be arranged. What would you like? Granted, whatever we agree on would be deferred until your run in Sex, Death, and Money is complete. SDM Incorporated wouldn't allow us to give you preferential treatment while the show is ongoing."
"I'm not interested," I said. "Not for anything you could offer me."
"Oh don't be petty," she said with an airy wave. "We're aware you aren't fond of us, but the fact is your success and ours are tied together. Unless you want to live in squalor and failure your spite is meaningless. You may as well enjoy the fruits of the table you've set for us."
"I will only create an album for Liminal Science. Unless Director Chosen comes to me with a deal, I'm not making anything that isn't relevant to the competition," I said.
This time Duo's expression twisted into something almost hateful before she curbed it. Her full lips thinned and for a long moment I stared into those ruby eyes and waited to see her next move.
At last, she said, "I see Chosen has already wrapped her fingers around you, and perhaps her tail. Very well. It is in my nature to apply pressure only where I believe that pressure will yield positive results. I will reach out to Liminal Science. Expect a representative of theirs in the not-too-distant future."
Her almost immediate acquiescence left me uncertain what to make of Duo Fells. Mauren had been a woman of dramatic swings and Chosen was tightly controlled, but also felt to me like someone with powerful emotions tugging at her psyche.
Despite my instinctive dislike of this woman, I was impressed. Duo was the first succubus I'd spoken to who seemed more calculating; someone who listened first to her thoughts, then to her feelings. Given her position within Division Four, she represented an opportunity, perhaps of unique quality.
I said, "Should Division Four ever have business with me again, I'll only go through you. Don't bother sending anyone else."
Her eyebrows were as white as the hair on her head, and when she arched one it was a startlingly vivid expression. Her lips pursed in a subtle smile as she said, "Mmm, and if I have personal business?"
Our eyes met, and I said, "As long as it's mutually beneficial."
"We'll be in touch, I'm sure," she said, and the glimmer in her eye was back as she turned and left, an absent flick of her tail calling the guards after her.
I watched her go until her rather shapely ass was replaced with literal gorilla butt, at which point my attention fled the scene.
Pala refocused it as she stepped in and slid the door closed behind her, eyes on me.
I met her gaze evenly as I said, "I'm not in the mood for another 'lesson,' Pala, fun as the last one was. I've got a lot on my mind."
"That you think I was here for your sex is an entertaining notion. I'm both amused and disappointed," she said, leaning against the wall with her arms folded. "I came here to talk to you about Yim."
"Oh for fuck's sake, what'd I do this time?" I asked with instant, weary annoyance.
One of her ears flicked to one side, then toward me again as she said, "Nothing bad. You're probably not aware, but going for head scratches on a packwren is a very dominant move. The only real options for us when someone tries it are to submit or fight. Yim's prone to submit, but ... I thought you should know before you try it on someone less accommodating."
"Like you?"
"It has to do with how it feels," Pala said, both ignoring and answering my question. "Just be aware that Yim wants more, and at some point she might come asking for it. I don't mind you giving it to her but I have one request: don't mix it with sex."
"Oh?"
She gave me the long affirmative blink as she said, "It can cause what amounts to a physiological dependency. When the games are over we're unlikely to see each other again. I prefer it if you not force her to go through withdrawal."
I gave her a slow nod at that, and said, "All right. I can promise you I'll do one or the other, but never both at once."
She gave me another long blink, then leaned away from the wall, swaying toward me as she said, "That's kind of you, and I appreciate it. Now, about that lesson ..."
"I'm sure the stuff in here is expensive and I'd rather not have to replace it," I said warily.
Her eyes narrowed, but something about the way she tipped her head to look at me made it a sultry expression as she said, "Not for me. For Yim. Do you think you can do to her what I did to you?"
I thought about that, then gave Pala a weary look as I said, "Not sure I'd be into it."
"The idea of pinning Yim and filling her with cock doesn't appeal to you?" Pala asked, eyebrow raised.
"Well, yeah, but what you did and what you just described are two fundamentally different things."
"Not so much. If you don't want to demean her, don't. She would enjoy it, but it isn't required. What is required is that she feel as though everything that happens to her is entirely up to you. The less agency she feels, the better."
"Why the hell-"
"Because a submissive prefers trust to self-mastery. Yim craves to bare her desires to you and have her desperate hope for satisfaction fulfilled not because she deserves it, or even thinks she deserves it, but because it's a gift from you."
"Or whoever she submits to."
Pala bared her teeth and said, "Such a thing is not so easily done as you may imagine. I know that the very idea of submission is alien to you, but to her it is a deeply held desire. While some submissives can give their desires to anyone, Yim isn't that sort. She requires emotional content in order to be truly pleasured."
I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand to stop me as she said, "You can't pretend to me that you don't know why she'd choose you. Her very first interaction with you was intensely humiliating. She's never forgotten that feeling. It's deep inside her now and it won't go away just because you say you're sorry. If you really want to apologize to her, you'll walk through the door you opened in her spirit and dominate her. Pleasure her and leave her a panting, sopping mess. Do that, and she'll look back on that sponsorship trial with dreamy eyes."
"You people are fucking weird," I said, frowning as I considered what Pala was asking me to do. I suppose in an intellectual sense I could understand what she was telling me, but the emotional content she was describing simply did not exist for me. I felt nothing about what I'd been told beyond that it seemed like a lot of work.
As though she could read my mind, Pala let out a gusty sigh and said, "I feel sorry for you. For all your intelligence and efficacy, when it comes to your capacity for happiness, you are like a child in a cage."
"You're getting on my nerves," I warned.
"Of course I am. Your capacity for anger is unmatched," she said with a wry note in her voice.
"I don't need your pity so fucking save it. This isn't about me, it's about your daughter and her wants."
"Ultimately, this is about your ability to discern the desires of those around you. Since you lack a fundamental emotional connection to ... well, anything, it has to be explained. It has to be acted out. You need to learn to recognize the cues somehow. Even if you don't resonate with those cues, you need to at least be able to fake a suitable response."
"Yeah? I'm beginning to wonder. I haven't seen any hint of any events that require me to have this knowledge. Seduce SDM employees? I don't need sex for that, as I have proven. To please the succubi? I absolutely could not care less about them. I'm beginning to think these 'lessons' are just your way of patronizing me because you need to feel like a boss and if we actually fought to see who'd come out on top I'd beat you like a fucking drum."
"Every time we have this conversation you get angry and confrontational. I have no way to know if your whole race is emotionally stunted or if it's just you, but my instincts tell me it's you. As for my need for control ... well. If you can't understand submission I can't even begin to explain dominance, but here's a hint: It's not about me."
With that, she turned and let herself out, leaving me to my thoughts.