“It is. They are all your weapons. Fully adjustable from stun to cutting through steel. Don’t get those two mixed up.” Zera explained the cuffs and what they could do. “Do not think of testing them out right now.”
Khytten grinned. “I won’t, but I have no idea how I am getting this home. I came on my cycle.”
“We will have your presents delivered. I am sure Salat can arrange it.”
“Sure. Tomorrow when he gets home.”
* * * *
Khytten paused when she felt something familiar. Hands caressed her shoulders from behind her chair. She looked and only saw the slight pressure marks on her arms.
“If you want me to wait until tomorrow to celebrate your birthday, you are mistaken.” His low, smooth voice rolled over her.
“Ooh, Salat. You made it.” She smiled.
“Yes, kitten. Would you like to dance?”
“I don’t know how. I practiced with projections like I was taught, but I have never done it with another person.”
His lips touched her ear. “I can help you with that. I don’t mind if you step on me, kitten. You look lovely.”
He touched her hand. “Come on. I won’t let you fall.”
She turned her fingers in his and looked to where his face was. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
He tugged her to her feet, and she clung to his arm, noticing. “What are you wearing?”
“The same as most of the other patrons here.”
Her eyes went wide as the men were wearing short skirts and not a lot else. She blinked. “Can I see?”
“Yes, kitten.”
He led them to the dancing area and turned in her arms. He became visible, and she looked down at the soft black hip wrap that fell just past mid-thigh. “Oooh, best present ever.”
“I am not your present, kitten.” He pulled her toward him, and his skin made contact with her bare abdomen, and she held tight to him as he started to sway with her.
“I have never understood why people get a prize for getting older.”
He smiled at her, his hair neatly braided along his scalp, making his pointed ears stand out. “You deserve a prize for surviving and getting this far.”
“I am still thinking that present is you, Patron. How did you get here so fast?”
“Airlift to the building. Zera thoughtfully chose one with a landing pad.”
She blushed. “Oh. You shouldn’t have hurried.”
“And miss my kitten’s birthday? Never. I would have gone faster if I could.”
She smiled. “It wasn’t necessary. Usually, the day comes and goes without comment.”
They moved together and twirled around and around. He turned her, dipped her, and she clutched him in panic. He kissed her, and the world fell away.
“Ah, Salat. I have missed you. Four days gone and only the occasional growl in my ear.”
He smiled. “It is my version of letting you know I am still alive.”
“Well, it did do that.”
He leaned in and murmured, “And I like what you do when you hear my voice.”
She blinked. “You can hear that? I am going to need better sound protection.”
“Trying to deprive me of the little soft sounds is a punishable offense, kitten.”
“Why?”
“What did the contract say about privacy?”
“Um, it is at your discretion.”
“And when it involves listening in to your pleasure, I choose to hear it all.”
Khytten felt the fullness in her breasts, and she blinked. “I need to excuse myself.”
He smiled down at her. “Why?”
“Don’t play coy. I am going to squirt all over the place if I don’t take care of this.”
“Ah, yes, management has made a request.” He leaned in and told her what he wanted her to create.
She shivered and looked around. “Seriously?”
He chuckled. “Seriously.”
“Where... oh. They brought the kit.” Zera had her pack near the throne; a small table with shot glasses was handy.
He picked her up and carried her to the throne, sitting down before tucking her on the arm of the chair. He took one of the flat pumps with the capture chamber, and he eased the fabric covering her out of the way. A light nuzzle and some strokes with his lips, and she started leaking. He attached the pump, and it hummed as he held it in his palm. He kept his hand on her until she had produced eight ounces. He turned the pump off and set it aside.
She tried to stop him from sucking, but she gasped. When he exposed her other breast and said, “Ah, kitten,” she was embarrassed at how readily her body let down the milk for him.
He slid a hand under her skirt and stroked the slick petals of her sex carefully as he drank.
She didn’t look at the crowd, didn’t watch Zera prepping the tiny shots, she just looked at Salat’s solid black eyes, and she held him to her as she shuddered in his arms.
* * * *
Zera shared out the milk, and she grinned to the escorts. They had all been briefed on this. If they wanted to try, they could.
Putting pliant arousal and confidence into a shot wasn’t something most beings could do, but Khytten managed it without any trouble.
Fifteen took a shot, shivered, and went to speak with a patron she had been flirting with. He was on her safe list, but they had never met. Apparently, that was about to change.
She felt hands on her waist. Tycho murmured in her ear. “Are you going to take a shot?”
“When the other escorts have taken one.”
“You poured thirty; there are only fifteen escorts here. What are the others for?”
“Anyone who wants them.”
He wandered over and took a shot for her and one for him. They did the shot, and there was a moment of shivering, and the warm hum of arousal ran through her. She turned to Tycho and kissed him, guiding him to a portion of the floor covered with cushions.
It was the start of a forty-person orgy, which
