If this was her choice for an ELF, I was impressed.If this was her choice for an ELF, I was impressed. Her form was Mephit; anthropomorphized skunk, like Aaden, about 155 cm tall, with a very bushy but short tail. Mostly black fur with a thin, white stripe working it's way up her back. Her breasts were very large, and even concealed as they were by the shiny leather corset, I could tell the left was slightly larger than the right. Her eyes glowed slightly, as if lit from behind, and she held her lips in a perpetual sort of half-smile. Aside from the corset, she wore a small black patch of leather over her groin, secured with nothing more than threads that ran over her hips, and knee-high boots with short heels. "I figured I should show up like this, just so you two remember that I'm here." She smiled. "It will be hard to forget," Aaden offered. Then something hit me. The smell of femMeph. "What the...?" I asked, reaching out to touch her arm gently. It was physical. "Rowan?" I asked. "Like it? Bawr and Mariah put it together for me. It's a full positerminal." "But... I thought AI's didn't do well with PT's." "New technology," she said, "makes new rules, Kennet." "So," I said, "do you like it?" "Uh-huh!" she smiled wide and cheerily, like the little girl she had sounded earlier. "I like eating!" "You'll get fat," I chided. "And that'll be something new to try, too." She was still smiling. I shook my head, her glee becoming positively infectious. "So," I said to Aaden, "shall we get on with what we came here for?" "Let's." He turned towards the Hex, the pit set in the center of the room. Its rim was a thick, padded bar about four cm high, designed to keep the wrestlers in. I reached for the control panel and hit the "prep" button. There was a slight hissing sound as the Hex began to flood with oil. After a few seconds, it was a half-centimetre deep in the thick, slightly greenish fluid. The hissing sound ceased. Aaden had already set aside what little clothing he had worn, and I followed, stripping off my flannel shirt and jeans. "Ready, lover?" I asked, smiling. "Ready," he said, returning the smile. "Ready to settle old scores." He stepped into the pit, settling his feet carefully onto the oiled padding, then dropping to his knees. |