by M. E. Thorne
They had spent decades repairing and rebuilding it. It was impossible to restore everything it had been, but they had done an admirable job. The rubble had been cleared, the walls scrubbed, the lights fixed, and new life breathed into the ruins. Outside the offices and official buildings, there were parks and open spaces for people to gather. It was one of the few places on El Finito where you could go to see a real live tree or sit on a patch of grass while the artificial sunlight streamed down from the ceiling.
Gnasher loved to spend her free days there, sunning on the lawn.
On the weekends, a huge white sheet was hung from a third-floor balcony, and old movies were shown for the public. I made sure to make it for every show. Mystery and action flicks were my favorite, even when the plot made no sense and the subtitles were terrible.
Over the years, the Metrocomplex had expanded and grown into a mini-city as people had moved into and refurbished the adjacent ruins. It came to serve as the home for almost a million citizens, drawn in by the promise of food, safety, and survival.
Most of the important State organizations, like the Growers’, Builders’, Medical, and Delvers’ Guilds had their own, prominent offices. The Syndicate Embassy was there too, a hermetically sealed fortress just off the main concourse.
The Delvers’ Guild was housed in what had once been a large department store. Most of the floor space was dedicated to holding and sorting the various goods delvers brought up from the depths of The Stacks. Bins and storage containers were lined up into neat little rows, each labeled with the type of items they held and the condition they were in. These would be sent to the various other guilds for repair, refurbishment, or recycling. We couldn’t afford to put anything to waste.
There was a cartography room, where maps of The Stacks were drawn up, administrative desks for keeping track of everything, and a lounge for delvers to relax and trade gossip between jobs. Gnasher and I went towards the old checkout counters, which had been converted to a service desk.
“Evening, Ramaltha,” I called as I got closer.
Ramaltha was even shorter than Gnasher, she needed a stool to see above the counter. But despite her diminutive height, she was one of the most muscular people I had ever met. Huge, bulging muscles covered her frame, and her neck was almost as thick as her head. She wore her bright red hair in a mohawk that almost doubled her height.
“Evening, Locke, Gnasher,” she waved. We placed our bags on the counter, and she quickly began sorting through our find. “No problem getting into that room Robert found?”
“Broke two saw blades,” I complained, “but found a nice apartment suite inside. Got some kitchen stuff, some electronics, and a pile of the ugliest clothing I’ve ever seen.”
She dutifully sorted through each one, providing a running total of credits. We haggled a bit about the towels, eventually coming to a deal where we’d get to keep them for only a fraction of their trade-in value.
Everything found during a Guild job belonged to the Guild, but you could always try and buy something back if the clerk was in the mood. Ramaltha was sweet like that to the delvers she liked.
“And there’s one more thing,” I whispered, as I drew the three of us to the side and out of view of anyone sitting in the lounge.
I opened the spare bag and pulled out the three tablets I had confiscated earlier, along with the gear, and spread them out on the counter.
Gnasher and I then gave Ramaltha an abridged version of our conflict with the three men. We both left out any mention of the gun, which was still hidden in Gnasher’s bag.
“Jumpers.” Ramaltha spat with disgust. “Here, let me look at their tablets so I can figure out just who they are.”
Pulling out a hand scanner, she waved it over the tablets, then consulted a small terminal built into the counter. “I remember these three. They go by Jetty, Lincoln, and Hannibal. Brothers, they’ve been delvers for about six weeks,” she said. Her mouth twisted in loathing. “Before today it appears they were mostly bone pickers.”
Gnasher looked appalled as well. Bone pickers were the worst kind of delvers, virtually pariahs. Rather than going down into The Stacks, they traveled to the surface of the planet, tossing over bodies and ransacking graves left from the war. They were considered little more than madmen and vultures by the rest of the Guild.
Maybe that’s where they found the gun, I thought. Picked it off a dead soldier up there.
“You did good,” Ramaltha reached up and gave each of us a bone-shaking pat on the shoulder. More darkly she added, “I’ll ask for a squad of soldiers to go deal with them.”
I shuddered a bit at this. The State was fair, but it was also firm. There could be little tolerance for violent crime when survival depended on everyone working together and contributing what they could. I imagined the three jumpers would end up either feeding the mushrooms as fertilizer or being sent as unwilling explorers into a mutant den.
“I’ll add fifty credits each for these,” Ramaltha said, tapping the confiscated tablets. When she saw our faces she explained, “New policy. If you bring back proof a Guild member is breaking the law while on a job, you can earn credits for it. You only get to keep these credits if it turns out they committed a crime, but in this case, I don’t think there will be any issues.”
Gnasher looked ecstatic.
I was already doing mental calculations. Another hundred and fifty credits will go a long way towards this month’s rent. On top of what we earned from the apartment suite, it was the most profitable day we’d ever had as delvers.
Leaping into my arms, Gnasher gave me a surprise, passionate kiss.
“Keep that kind of stuff at home,” Ramaltha chuckled.
“Home, hot shower,” Gnasher repeated. I could tell by the look in her eyes there’d be a lot more going on after she had a chance to clean off.
Settling our accounts, we quickly finished our business and headed out of the door. If we hurry, we can make it home before she tears my clothes off.
It turns out we’d barely climbed the stairs and made it into our apartment before Gnasher shucked off her bloody clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. She pulled me in after her a minute later.
The bathroom was tiny, but we still managed to find a way to fit inside together.
“Hot water,” Gnasher commanded as she pawed off my pants and yanked me into the shower stall. “We made more than enough for a hot shower, don’t you think?”
I had a hard time finding an argument against that.
The water that came out of the showerhead was practically scalding, both of us jumping at the shock of it before the heat of our bodies overwhelmed it.
“This is the best,” she whispered into my ear, her claws lightly digging into my back. “We should get rich and do this every day.”
Gnasher’s pussy was slick and wet by the time I stripped free of my underwear and got myself lined up. Foreplay was a quick and savage kiss, neither of us could hold back any longer. She gave a small squeal of joy as I entered into her, her body spasming and tightening around my member.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she moaned into my shoulder as her tail whipped itself around my legs.
I cupped her face and kissed her again. Running my tongue over her fangs, I was glad that she had remembered to brush her teeth.
She pressed into me further, her furry belly and taut breasts rubbing against my chest. Her arms draped up and over my shoulders, her fingers running through the hair at the base of my neck. She shivered every time I withdrew, before gasping as I slammed us back together.
Pulling out, I spun her around, water and steam going everywhere as she squealed in surprise and pleasure. Planting her breasts against the wall and her hands high over her head, she arched her back and lifted her tail, giving me full access to her eager snatch.
I plunged back into her with renewed vigor. Her passage was hot and tight, practically sucking me in, begging for me to cum. Pressing her hands against the shower wall, I used my
free hand to grab her by the root of her tail and gently began to tug, alternating as I thrust.
She moaned again, flinging her head back into the stream of hot water. “Fuck, that feels so good. Pull it harder!”
Building a steady rhythm, I alternated my strokes with each yank on her tail. She quivered and moaned with each attack, riding on a wave of ecstasy. I felt myself reach climax just a second short of her own. The riotous orgasm that ran through her pulled me over the edge. Unable to hold back, I came as I rammed home and released everything I had, shooting my load deep inside of her.
Grunting and shaking, the last of our strength left our bodies. We collapsed into a pile on the shower floor just as our allotment of hot water ran out.
Crawling out into the main room, we rolled ourselves into our newly acquired towels and snuggled in the afterglow.
“Damn, these are nice,” she purred, as she playfully ran the fabric across her bare stomach. I just grunted and ran my fingers through the still damp fur on her forearm.
“Want to head to bed?” I winked.
She rolled over on top of me, pinning me to the floor. Her eyes lit up again, “Ready for round two?”
With a mock growl, I grabbed her around her waist and surged the two of us onto the bed. Needless to say, we didn’t get anything productive done for the rest of the evening.
Chapter 3
The clock on my tablet indicated it was just before seven in the morning when I woke up. Rolling over, I found I was alone in my bed.
I peeked up towards the ceiling of the apartment. The room was almost as tall as it was wide, giving Gnasher space to span ropes, sheets, and makeshift hammocks overhead. Being a Jinx, part feline and part simian, I assumed she always felt safer and more comfortable sleeping off the ground, somewhere high up.
But Gnasher wasn’t there either.
“Must have spent the night with Spinny,” I mumbled to myself. A few weeks prior that thought would have filled me with jealousy, but I was surprised to find I felt nothing of the sort that morning.
I’m just happy if Gnasher is happy, which was a refreshing notion. Maybe I’m getting the hang of this crazy relationship after all.
The floor of the apartment was freezing. Shuffling into my slippers, I threw the towels and dirty clothes into a hamper, they all needed washing.
Gnasher’s bags were still piled in the corner, where she’d dumped them the night before. I checked and confirmed the gun was still inside, wrapped up and buried under her gear. Just looking at it gave me a spike of anxiety. I knew we had broken the rules by taking it, and we could get in a ton of trouble if we got caught.
Intact firearms and weapons were an extremely rare find. Most of the time, the ones delvers stumbled across were broken beyond repair. The State mandated that anyone who found a gun had to turn it over immediately.
Best if we get rid of it as soon as possible.
I pulled on a pair of shorts and made my way over to the room’s kitchenette. Using a small burner, I boiled some water. My ration bars were still packed away in my kit bag. I unwrapped one, broke it into tiny pieces, and stuck it into the pot. Putting the remaining rations away, I pulled out some mushrooms from the storage cooler I kept my perishable food in. Chopping them up, I added a few spice flakes, stirred, and then began to eat my breakfast soup.
I don’t know why Gnasher hates this stuff. Tastes pretty good to me. I washed out the pot. Maybe she’s got a more sensitive tongue than I do? I blushed a bit remembering how roughly textured it was.
Feeling better after eating, I got dressed and decided to head downstairs to find Gnasher. If she hadn’t told Spinny about what happened, and the gun hidden in our apartment, we owed it to her to inform her.
We were renting the room from her, so if the State came down on us for illegal gun possession it was likely she’d be in just as much trouble as us.
Spinny owned the building we lived in, which was not far from the Metrocomplex. It had originally been composed of a single large room, likely used for some kind of manufacturing. There were still spots on the cement floor where you could tell machinery had been bolted in place. The previous owner had subdivided the upper portion of the factory into eight rooms. Gnasher and I lived in one, and the others were vacant or rented out by local businesses and residents for storage. Spinny used the first floor as her home and business.
Climbing down the stairs, I was about to knock on the sliding barn door to her room when Gnasher flung it open.
“Good morning!” she declared, before giving me a peck on the cheek. Naked as the day she was born, she bounded up the stairs. “I’m going to get dressed, be back in a minute.”
“Her energy always amazes me,” Spinny came out into the stairwell. “Good morning, Locke,” she said, a large mug of steaming coffee clasped in one hand.
I nodded back, feeling a touch awkward. “Morning.”
Spinny was an Arachne and stood almost eight feet tall. She had the head, arms, and torso of a baseline human. Below the waist, she had the body of a giant spider. Her carapace was shiny and black, and each of her eight legs was tipped with a pair of sharp claws.
She was Gnasher’s long-term girlfriend.
With a smile, she turned around and waved with her free hand. “Come inside, have a seat. I assume you already ate?”
Stepping inside, her room was dedicated to her craft. Looms and spools of spider silk took up most of the floor space. A curtain divided off the back of the area. I knew behind it were the vats of dye and drying racks she used for her finished fabrics. The rafters overhead were covered with webs and nests, which served as her bedroom.
Gnasher says she prefers to sleep in my apartment because the dye stinks and makes her nose run, I thought. I honestly can’t smell anything bad though, just a faint, chemical tang in the air.
I walked over to the kitchenette, which included a small counter, cook plate, sink, and table. Spinny gracefully climbed up to a nearby rafter and spun some thread, which she adhered in place. She then dangled down and hung over the table.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Tea’s fine,” I answered. “I’m not a fan of caffeine, it gives me the jitters.”
“Sorry, I keep forgetting that,” She swung over to the counter and filled a cup using a small teapot. She pivoted back as she put in a teabag. “Synthetic is fine I hope?”
“Sure,” I said as I dunked the bag a couple of times. I just stared at my cup, not sure what to say.
“Gnasher told me you two had an exciting day yesterday,” she offered, breaking the silence.
“Yeah, crazy,” I mumbled, my mind going blank. Feeling more embarrassed than ever, I took a deep drink of tea, almost scalding my tongue.
“Relax, I’m not going to bite your head off,” she joked.
“I know,” I put my cup on the table. “Sorry if I’m -- being weird. I’ve just never been in a poly relationship, so I feel like I’m screwing things up and acting -- weird.”
She gave me a gentle laugh and a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, really. You’ve only been with Gnasher for a few months, and you only met me when you first moved in. Just relax and we’ll get to know each other.”
I gave her a wan smile back and tried to calm down, resisting the urge to get up and start pacing.
Spinny was only interested in women, she had told me as much when we had all originally sat down and discussed our relationship. She had known Gnasher for a while but only began a serious relationship with her two years ago. As far as I knew, I was the first addition to their relationship, making us a vee.
I was just trying to think of something to say when a fully-dressed Gnasher burst back into the room. She gave me a quick nuzzle and a kiss before climbing the wall using Spinny’s webs. Almost as gracefully as the Arachne, she slid down the tether and snuggled up with her girlfriend.