02 Partners Read online

  PARTNERS

  By Julie Woodcock

  Copyright, Angela Knight, 1991

  [I just want to know one thing,] Radm broadcasted. [How did we piss off the Colonel enough to get sent to THIS hellhole?]

  [We?] Tanaka sent. [What do you mean "we," roundeyes? You are the one who told him he must have snagged graymatter the last time he shaved his head.]

  [Is it my fault he can't take a joke?]

  I grinned as my computer implant relayed the banter directly into my mind. It felt good; I'd had damn little to smile about in the last two weeks. Because Radm was right--the Pleasure Dome was a hellhole, and this was, hands down, the worst mission we'd been on in our seven years as cycops. And that says a good bit. If the Interstellar Bureau of Criminal Investigation is the galaxy's garbage collector, its cycop branch is the one that shovels the shit.

  At that particular moment, I was standing in the Dome's central lobby, pretending I didn't know Radm and Tanaka. It was a big room, that lobby, with a vaulting ceiling, long wall panels and squared columns. I thought it was some of the cleanest architecture I'd ever seen. Thing was, it was all done up in a hideous red-and-gold-velvet decor. Sort of neo-classical whorehouse.

  I didn't look a whole lot better. The Dome mainframe had ordered me to wear some kind of transparent black lace thing that was cut down to there and up to here, decorated with about two kilos of flounces and ribbon. I felt like an idiot. What's worse, every moron that passed felt he had a license to grab himself a handful of my ass, and my nipples had been pinched so often they were getting sore. I was hard put not to break some fingers.

  It's a lucky thing I'm a cycop, because I'm damn sure not cut out to be a whore.

  Still, despite my misery, I was marginally comforted when I looked at my teammates. They looked even more ridiculous than I did.

  The Dome comp had decided Radm had the makings of a homosexual leather fantasy. It had put him in a calfskin jockstrap and fifteen leather straps with silver studs. He had straps EVERYWHERE--around his biceps, his forearms, his wrists, thighs, the whole works. There was even one around his neck. Funny thing is, this benighted rig sort of worked on him. Radm's a big guy, well over six feet, with the standard cycop build--which is to say, beefy as a bull--and all that leather did do a good job of emphasizing his musculature.

  His face played into the master race fantasy; long, sharp Nordic lines, eyes a cool green, hair the color of wheat swept back from a center part, a neat blond beard framing his hedonist's mouth. It was the mouth that gave him away; it had a pained sort of twist to it. I could see why. A willowy young man with long red hair was standing beside him, gazing. Spotting Radm as a raving hetero, most gay joyjockeys were polite enough to leave him alone. The redhead, on the other hand...

  [That's it,] Radm broadcast through his comp, [I'm resigning.]

  [You can't resign,] Tanaka told him. [You are a cycop, and you are still breathing, so resignation is not an option.]

  [Okay, so YOU play with this little prick. What's your secret, anyway? They never pester you. Only gorgeous women pester you.]

  [I've mastered the trick of looking indifferent. You cringe. Certain personality types cannot resist harassing you. And as for the women...] He paused, and even across the room I saw his grin. [They recognize talent when they see it.]

  I smiled a little. That wasn't all they recognized. Tanaka is a good foot shorter than Radm, but he comes from stock genetically engineered for high gravity. As a result, his shoulders look almost as broad as he is tall. The Dome comp had dressed him to take advantage of that fact, too; he wore a pair of baggy black silk pants that gathered around his booted ankles, but nothing in the way of a shirt. And just to make sure you didn't miss the effect, they'd oiled his solid wall of chest muscle to a high gloss.

  The part above the neck wasn't bad either; Tan had pulled his long dark hair back into a samurai-style club that emphasized the broad, flat planes of his face. It was a bluntly handsome face, with a thin nose and a wide mouth, and it had the sort of cool dignity about it that women instinctively itch to heat. Like the time last week when the bachelorette party came in, took one look at him, and decided to make him into a party favor. Five girls, all giggling and gorgeous--and thoroughly drunk. Tanaka wore a grin for three days afterward. And for all three days, I kept expecting Radm to punch him in the mouth.

  [Hey, Val,] Radm broadcasted to me suddenly, [you're awfully quiet. You okay?]

  I wasn't, but I didn't want to tell him that; it wouldn't do me any good, and it would only worry him. [I just want to wrap this mission up, collect the evidence, and get the hell out of here,] I sent back.

  [We only have three more days before the ship is due to pick us up,] Tanaka transmitted. [It will all be over soon.]

  If I lived that long. If I resisted the impulse to kill myself a joyjockey. Then again, I'd survived that first day at the Dome two weeks ago, so I supposed anything was possible.

  I'd been talking to some customer, flirting and actually enjoying myself, when this pimply-faced joyjockey walked up behind me and drove a knife into the small of my back. Cycop instinct and training promptly kicked in, and I ripped out the knife and whirled to give it back to the little asshole, point first. Tanaka just barely grabbed me before I could blow all our covers.

  Fortunately, the joyjockey had cleared the attack with the Dome staff first, and they had a regenerator standing by. Two hours under it, and the stab wound became only a very bad memory. Thing is, during the healing process one of the medtecs had kindly suggested I get used to this sort of treatment. The Dome, he said, specialized in catering to the tastes of sadists--including the variety who like to butcher women.

  Seeing my revulsion, the medtec shrugged. "As long as we get the victim into regen in time, there's no harm done."

  "You haven't been knifed lately, have you?" I said.

  The whole episode did accomplish one thing: it was now vividly clear to me why the Interstellar Prostitutes Union had wanted the IBCI to investigate the Dome. Which is how three government agents ended up whoring in the biggest bordello in human space.

  Suddenly I became aware that I was being watched. Turning, I saw a nondescript older man, graying and small and dressed in a very expensive suit. He was watching me with a flat, faded gray stare that had an edge of leer to it. I recognized him from tridsims I'd seen; he was a Human Coalition Senator.

  The Senator's eyes slid away from mine toward Tanaka and Radm, visible across the room through the throng of prosties and joyjockeys. Then his gaze skated back to me. He licked thin lips and offered, "I've got a Steel Trap drugpatch for you. Where can we go?"

  "I've got a room," I said, then turned to shoulder through the crowd, faking the same hooded desperation I could see on the faces of the prosties around me. A joyjockey got in my way and I shoved him hard, simulating the rough urgency of a Steel Trap addict. If not for my computer's controlling the addictive affect of the drug I'd been given, that urgency would have been genuine.

  Steel Trap is funny stuff; it gives no high at all--only a particularly nasty physical addiction its victims will do anything to feed. By secretly administering Steel Trap to Dome prostitutes when they signed on, the management ensured their cooperation in almost any kind of abuse. That kind of thing is the reason Steel Trap is one of the few recreational drugs outlawed by the Human Coalition. The blatant civil rights violations its use represented had played a big role in bringing us here.

  Playing government watchdog can be a bitch.

  The Senator and I stepped through the lift doors at one end of the lobby. I fidgeted on the ride up in the roomy red box, supposedly eager for my fix. In actuality, I was worried about what he had in mind.

  The irony is
that I could have fought him off--even killed him--with ridiculous ease, between my computer implant and twenty years of cycop training. (I'd begun instruction in hand-to-hand combat about the same time I'd received the brain implant...at the age of five. The implant process tends to kill anybody much older than that.) But being undercover, I couldn't

  afford to tip my hand. I'd have to take whatever the Senator dished out--which, at the Dome, could be a good bit.

  Still faking a drug-induced eagerness, I stepped out of the lift and strode down the thickly carpeted hallway. Checking for occupation lights over the doors, I found a room that was empty and stepped into it, conscious of the Senator close behind me.

  I got only a brief impression of the ubiquitous red and gold decor before I felt his hands on my shoulders. I turned. He was a couple of centimeters shorter than I am, and I had to look down at him. His fingers promptly got busy with the closures on my silly costume, peeling it off my torso like a banana skin. Eyes focused hungrily on what he was revealing, voice a low, droning murmur, he began to pull and squeeze and stroke me. "Lovely, just lovely. Pretty breasts, just a handful, rosebud nipples. This is going to be good. Long legs, I love the legs, you must run kilometers to have legs like that. Lean and muscular, but such soft skin, like a young cat." The Senator lifted his eyes to my face. I tried to put some arousal in my expression. "Dark eyes. So wise, so cool. What are you thinking, dark eyes?"

  "I'm thinking," I lied, "that I want you."

  He rubbed my nipples. His hands were cool, bloodless. I'd never be able to manage this if I didn't do something. {Pirate,} I thought to my computer implant, {help me out.}

  The implant winds throughout my brain, a solid kilometer of bioengineered virus with the ability to store and process data. Using it, I can control hormone levels, sensation, even generate a state of hysterical strength, so getting aroused was no problem at all. In seconds, I was hot enough to burn, my nipples peaked and hard, a trickle of eager cream in my cunt. I wanted a man, I didn't care who. I reached for him.

  And he backed away, looking alarmed at my aggressiveness. "No, not now. I want you to lie down and touch yourself for me."

  I bit back a curse. If I'd known he was a voyeur, I wouldn't have bothered with the induced arousal. But there wasn't much I could do about it now, so I shrugged and lay down on the huge bed that took up half the room. The Senator sat down in an red velvet armchair squeezed into one corner, settling in as if to enjoy the show. Looking straight at him, I began to rub my nipples, thinking about what a delight it would be to close this place down.

  "No," he said. "Don't watch me. Pretend I'm not here."

  Obediently, I slid my gaze to the ceiling, squeezing harder. I pictured Radm in his leather and grinned a bit, wishing desperately he was here. Radm, with his strong and skillful hands, his long, elegant cock. He'd do a good job of stoking my heat--and then dousing it.

  Suddenly the mental image skewed into Tanaka, muscled chest gleaming with oil above those ludicrous silk pants. I tried to banish the thought, but the trouble with a hormone level that high is that discipline becomes damn near impossible. Helplessly, I moaned, remembering the time I'd accidentally walked in on him in the shower. For an instant, I'd frozen there, staring at the water beading on his beautiful body, watching his thick shaft harden as he saw me watching him. Then, knowing I'd betray Radm if I stayed one second longer, I'd backed out of the room. Tanaka, being a gentleman, did not come after me.

  I often wondered what would have happened if he had.

  So, wondering, hazy with heat, I put two fingers down to explore myself. I had buried them in up to the knuckle when the door opened.

  And Radm and Tanaka got a splendid view of my creamy pussy and burrowing fingers.

  It was a lot like being doused with ice water.

  I jerked my hand away and rolled off the bed, feeling a hot blush sear my face. The funny thing is, if it had been any two male prosties I wouldn't have batted an eye, but they were my partners, and they'd caught me masturbating. Never mind that I'd been told to do it.

  Radm, damn his green eyes, looked vastly amused. I knew to the second when he realized the number of other men in my audience, because he lost that smile in a hurry. While Tanaka, just as I had all those months ago, started to back right out the door.

  "Stop," the Senator barked. Simultaneously, we turned to stare at him. He was clearly annoyed. "I paid for you," he told my partners, "and you're going to give me my money's worth. I saw you watching her downstairs, so I know you want her. So rape her."

  I thought for a moment that Radm was going to laugh in his face.

  "NOW!" It was actually a bellow. The Senator was turning an interesting shade of puce. Radm shrugged. "What the hell. Beats the redhead." And to my astonishment, my partner took two steps into the room and grabbed me hard by the shoulders.

  [I,] I transmitted, [am getting pissed off.] I balled up a fist and prepared to plant it somewhere painful.

  [Oh, come ON, Val,] Radm sent, pulling me toward him despite the immanent danger of a punch in the teeth. [I don't know about you, but I certainly prefer this scenario to anything else he might come up with. So we ham it up for the sleazy old bastard. At least this way we get to play a little.]

  I started to punch him anyway, but he did have a point. For one thing, nobody was hitting me with a whip, which was a definate improvement. Besides, now that the shock was wearing off, I could see the potential in the situation. And I was well aware it was a chance I might never have again; neither of my partners was otherwise likely to let me get them both into bed at the same time. That was a opportunity I'd be an idiot to turn down.

  So, it evidently being playtime, I started to squirm and fight in a way that wouldn't accomplish much--other than set a match to somebody's libido. Radm leered appreciatively, and I wriggled my rump at Tanaka, knowing he was still hovering somewhere behind me.

  [Jesus, Tan, what are you waiting on? You wanna piss the Senator off?] Radm transmitted, looking up at Tanaka when he didn't take the bait. [Let's go before he gets somebody with a neural prod in here. I've been hit with one of those bastards before, and believe me, you wouldn't like it.]

  Tanaka made no reply, but I heard something which sounded alot like a growl. One of his broad hands came up under my jaw from behind and he roughly pulled my head back, then dragged my shoulders against his chest. I felt my eyes widen as he began gently gnawing the lobe of my ear, his free hand coming around to grab one breast. Blunt, thick fingers began delicately rolling the nipple. Blinking, I mouthed at Radm, "Are you sure that's TANAKA back there?"

  Radm laughed, then stepped in close, grabbing one of my legs and bringing it over his hip. Deliberately, he began to grind his calfskin covered crotch against my mound. The leather felt damn good against my arousal-swollen lips, and I started creaming again.

  Deciding to make the boys work for it, I began struggling with my full strength, squirming and punching, forcing them to use their own considerable muscle to hold me. Of course, a couple of well-placed nerve strikes would have freed me...but who wanted to get loose?

  I snapped my body between their supporting hands and enjoyed myself thoroughly.

  "Let's get her on the bed," Radm growled over my sound effects --I was making suitable exclamations and protests--and the two of them heaved me onto the mattress. A minute later, I found myself pinned under a delightful quantity of male flesh.

  I'd just started squirming again when a hot mouth suddenly closed over one of my nipples. Tanaka's night dark hair cascaded over my sensitive breasts as his lips and tongue caressed me. He'd evidently lost interest in playing.

  And in that instant, so did I.

  I gasped, looking down at his face. His dark almond eyes were narrowed, and there was an expression of deep sensual delight in them. I reached out a hand and hesitantly threaded it through his long hair. It felt unbelievably soft for such a massive man. My fist tightened in it as his tongue curled over one nipple, furling pleasure t
hrough my nerves. I moaned. The ends of his mouth quirked into a smile at the sound.

  [You have no idea how I have hungered for you,] he sent. [But I can show you...] And he opened a deeplink, his computer transmitting his emotions, his sensations, feeding them directly into my mind.

  I gasped at the way my skin felt to him, so much more silken to his rough fingers than it had ever felt to mine. My breasts were small, but round and perfect in his hands, nipples deliciously responsive. His pleasure at touching them, at touching me, was a vast rolling force in his mind.

  But I could also feel his loneliness, the desire for me he'd nursed since we'd been kids in the Academy together.

  It had been hard for him to ignore the enforced intimacy of our partnership, yet he had, because he'd feared that an attempt to seduce me would endanger the team. Our lives depended on our trusting each other without question, protecting one another without hesitation. If Radm believed he'd been betrayed, that trust could be destroyed.

  But now Tanaka could have what he wanted--once. And he meant to make the most of it.

  Instinctively looking toward Radm, I saw him watching Tanaka with an odd mixture of wariness and appreciation. Wondering, probably, if he would have withstood the same temptation, yet pleased, too, because it was plain that Tanaka would never do anything to cheat him.

  Tanaka's hands suddenly tightened on me again, and I picked up a hot impression of the incredible softness of my own breasts. I opened up a deeplink of my own, letting both men feel how it felt to me, letting them share my enjoyment of Tanaka's gentle grip. Spurred, each lowered his head to me, and I felt two hot mouths close simultaneously over both my nipples. I threw back my head and whimpered at the exotic pleasure of it.

  Radm reached a long hand down to find my lower curls, fingers seeking through them for my lips, my clit, the warm opening of my cunt. An impression flared through my mind of the way my richly creamy walls felt to him, tightening around his finger as he thrust into my snug pussy.

  Intrigued, he abandoned my breasts to Tanaka and stretched down my body to bury his head between my legs. All three of us groaned as I fed them the sensation of his long tongue tracing between my lips, finding my clit with practiced skill. Each wet flick of his tongue made the tendons in my knees jerk as pleasure shot into my spine.