Belonger (An erotic novel): Part One (61 page)

But they were men
themselves. There was no question of that. So despite their
celebrated rivalry the Dowser and Gnomon
had
to cooperate in some
fundamentally rational fashion to ensure the smooth functioning of
their society. And they theoretically managed it without a
technical apparatus of negotiation like majority rule—which
wouldn’t operate between two people. Yet there was no evidence of
that partnership, no evidence they had ever even met. So how could
they maintain such a complex social equilibrium?

“
Here we are,” she
announced, pulling into the great circular plaza surrounding the
Tower of the Gnomon.

“
Wow,” Emma gasped, trying
in vain to estimate its altitude.

“
You weren’t exaggerating
about the size,” Mark goggled.

“
As many have conceded to
you,” Ione returned the compliment, pleased by his
respect.

Manassa giggled as a crowd of naked employees
strolled by. “Back to the bare-ass condition,” she gusted and began
to shed her clothing.

Ione got them parked underground as they
finished undressing, hurriedly returned herself to nudity. She led
them into the building, issuing a steady stream of documentation as
to what they were seeing and what it meant.

“
They’re with me—regular
guests,” she informed a doorman guarding the atrium as she had been
told to do at her orientation. The man nodded, committing their
images to memory on behalf of all the doormen who served the
Tower.

“
And here’s the elevator I
told you about,” she continued as it arrived with a musical gurgle.
She led them onto the platform and in moments it was vaulting for
her residential level.

“
This is seriously
fucked
up
,” Mark
whispered, ignoring a gaggle of passengers staring hungrily at
their group as they were lofted with swift efficiency by the
Flowgnome.

Ione identified some the intervening floors
to the others in passing. Most internal walls in the Tower were
made of blue-tinted glass, allowing them to see all the way to the
exterior windows in some cases. “There’s the gnome design levels,
and that’s my current laboratory… and here comes the lounge and the
commissary…” They riddled her with a stream of excited questions
all the while and she was prompted by their vicarious appreciation
for her new life to reconsider its social possibilities as a sen
and more of glittering floors zoomed by.

Her work had so far been quite involving, and
Ione had seen real evidence that the Gnomon held the toy design
group in special regard. She had been assigned to work on several
devices at once and had prototypes of them in her apartment for
personal experimentation. But so far, she had to admit, this
additional context had produced little improvement in their design
or functioning. The reason for that was becoming steadily
clearer.

The minions of the Gnomon were intelligent,
reasonable, and by Ione’s standard friendly people. But they were
not always discerning in relation to the products of their own
ingenuity; particularly when it came to sex toys, which she had
come to understand were mostly requisitioned and utilized by
parties external to the Gnomon’s culture. After a few days in the
Tower she knew her work needed to be evaluated by collaborators of
greater sexual sophistication than her colleagues, preferably
people with biases familiar enough to be casually extracted from
analysis…

They reached her floor and jumped off the
rounded lip of the elevator together, made their way through the
naturalistic artistry of a tree and shrub-dotted plain of grass to
her residence hall and were quickly established with its doorman.
Ione ushered her friends down the hall to her apartment. “C’mon
in,” she invited, and they did.

“
Groovy lighting,” Emma
exclaimed, twirling around to appreciate the blue and violet
emanations of some extra glow gnomes she had
requisitioned.

“
Check out the view!” Dean
marveled, hands planted on the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking
the City. “I’ve never been so high in the Gnomon’s Tower,” he
admitted.

“
These plums are delicious,”
Manassa cheerfully reported, having snagged a few from the tree on
the way in.

Ione showed them around the rooms, then they
returned to the salon. Mark threw himself down on the wider of her
two cobalt-toned couches and Ione brought over a carafe of chilled
pomegranate juice from the little bar. Emma promptly spiked it with
a flask of pure stillwater from the duffel bag, and before long the
apartment was filled with enough happy chatter to render the
atmosphere of a party. Ione was absently amused at her fast success
in provoking such conviviality against the high slope of the
Gnomon’s cultural efficiency.

She took a place on the smaller couch and
Emma molded to her side as she put her arm around the smaller
woman.

“
Like it?” Ione inquired,
kissing her fragrant blond locks.

“
You put a lot of love into
the details,” Emma smiled. “That’s not usually your style, I have
to say…”

Ione grinned, already tipsy. “I was hoping
you’d notice.”

Emma’s beautiful blue eyes gleamed with
emotion, and they exchanged a long, sloppy kiss. “We’re gonna have
fun here,” Ione promised.

Dean and Manassa had wandered over to a
floor-standing mechanism of curiously organic design.

“
What the fazzuck is this
thing?” the musician bluffly inquired.

“
A clutch,” she explained,
rising to join him.

“
What’s it for?” asked
Manassa.

“
It clamps a woman in a
submissive posture,” said Ione. She slipped the back open and
prompted Emma into its molded form, closing and locking it down on
her such that her legs were forced wide by rounded stirrups and her
wrists were captured in integral cuffs behind her back. There were
round openings for her breasts in front, and her thighs and
buttocks were fully exposed. Her body was posed as if she were
planted on her widened knees, head bowed to the floor, arms tied
behind her back—but raised waist-high.

“
Okay,” said Emma, settling
into its comfortably padded embrace. “Now what?”

Ione released the clutch plate at the side of
the device, and with a push sent her partner’s body spinning
axially about its middle.

“
Whee!” she exclaimed, and
Mark padded over to watch her revolve end-over-end.

“
It lets you arrange her
just how you want,” Ione remarked, halting Emma at a point where
her vagina was poised directly before them. She locked the clutch
plate to prevent any further movement. “The Gnomon has a theory
that we all harbor a subconscious desire for physical symmetry in
sexual activity. This thing was designed to give elegant access to
female anatomy from any angle.”

“
I hear that,” Mark cheered,
draining his juice. He found some lubricant on the table next to
the device and rubbed it sensuously into Emma’s raised and
presented genitalia.

Dean had acquired a three-leaf flam whip, and
Emma winced as he brought it down with perfect precision on her
vagina, its first two rubber appendages landing with an anacrustic
flutter before the final, smacking impact.

“
Ow!” she hissed. “Do it
again.” Dean worked her over with the flam as they
watched.

“
She’s nice and wet now,”
Mark enthused.

Ione unlocked the clutch plate and rotated
Emma so her snatch was lofted up high. They took turns kissing it
as she sighed encouragingly, then she spun the little blond around
so her head was facing them. “Suck them,” she ordered, gesturing to
the erections presented at her new elevation.

Emma swallowed one penis then the other in
alternation, perfectly positioned to receive them by the variable
inclination of the machine enclosing her. “All this cocksucking is
thirsty work,” she lasciviously hinted between insertions.

Ione adroitly swung her body vertical and
tipped a cup of juice to her lips. “Drink up!” she bantered. Emma
took a long draught, some of which dribbled down her chest. Manassa
and Dean bumped heads in their haste to lick the rivulets
sputtering from her nipples.

“
After you,” the musician
insisted with mock solicitude.

“
No, after
you
,” Manassa
returned.

“
After
me
,” Mark decided and stepped between
them to suck both clean as Emma wriggled yearningly.

Ione spun Emma to present her posterior,
efficiently spread for access.

“
Let’s play with her!”
Manassa tittered, slipping a finger into her vagina. Dean reached
in to tweak Emma’s clitoris affectionately.

“
Try this,” said Ione,
giving Mark a phallus with a perpendicular handle and a rotating
crank that operated through a big bearing. The cock had a series of
ridges running its length, and he slipped it into Emma’s rectum as
they crowded close.

Mark slowly turned the
screw, and Emma moaned dreamily. “What is
that?
” she wanted to know.

“
It’s called a
screw.”

“
Well by all means screw me
then.” Mark turned it a little faster.

“
The Gnomon thinks the anus
is most effectively stimulated with an axial massage rather than a
linear movement,” Ione commented, carefully observing its
effect.

“
He’s fucking right about
that,” Emma whispered.

Mark fed it a little deeper into her, winding
faster as Emma’s behind tensed within the confines of the clutch.
Manassa reached to her vagina and slowly rubbed it.

As three sets of hands played with her nether
flesh Ione reached for another toy, a little phallic insert. “This
is a tattle,” she said. “It pops in and out from anal contractions.
Lemme try it on her.” Mark withdrew the screw to Emma’s
disappointment and Ione slipped the tattle in her sphincter.

She unlocked the clutch plate and swiveled
her lover to a horizontal disposition, head and hindquarters at the
same level, positioned for use at either end. The tattle winked
from the bulging valley of her ass.

“
You can both get into her
now,” she encouraged the men.

her as he banged hard into her vagina without
foreplay.

Dean moved forward and fed his erection into
Emma’s mouth as Mark slipped his own deep into her vagina. Ione
watched in stillwater-abetted arousal as they proceeded to fuck
Emma fore and aft. A macho rivalry colored their occupation as Dean
pushed hard into her jaw, felt an answering response from Mark
through her body, lunged back into her throat more forcefully.

“
Mmmss hmm mmms hmm,” she
hummed in rhythmic articulation of their warring lusts.

Manassa drew her blond tresses back helpfully
and Ione adjusted the angle of the clutch a little. Mark and Dean
were ramming her in perfectly synchronized alternation, rocking the
sturdy frame of the machine with their muscular copulation.

“
Spin her,” Manassa
suggested after a little, and the men withdrew, flung her around so
she was staring up and reinserted themselves. Emma’s clitoris was
now easily accessible and Ione rubbed it with slow
affection.

“
Mmmmmmmmssssss…” Emma
groaned, and Manassa took her nipples to hand, kneaded them fondly.
Dean and Mark were cramming her briskly, and Ione could see the
latter was getting deep into her upturned throat, watched the
blurred impression of his cock as it traveled her
esophagus.

The tattle popped with a merry, metallic
sound as Emma’s sphincter bunched in pre-climactic bliss.

“
Let’s spin her again,” Ione
suggested before she reached fulfillment, and her lover was
returned to her original posture. The men were quickly exerting
themselves in a brutal competition to own her body, submitting to a
rare and delicate kinetic synergy in the process.

The tattle pinged again.

“
You’ve got her fluttering,”
Ione encouraged, one hand on Emma’s quaking ass.

The smaller woman managed to moan agreement
around a mouthful of penis, and Ione watched the tattle pop in an
out again as her anus spasmed helplessly.

“
Harder!” Manassa goaded the
men.

“
Oh fuck…” Dean whispered,
eyes drawing shut.

The tattle popped three time in a fast
succession and he climaxed in her, unable to withstand its
advertisement of her bliss any longer. They came together in a
clutch-rattling display of passion.

“
Mmmmsss…” Emma sputtered
when his penis withdrew. “Now
that’s
how your slipper likes to get
fucked,” she declared in a faint voice.

“
I won!” Dean exhaustedly
gloated to Mark.

They got Emma out of the clutch and retired
to the couches, dazed by the events of their busy day.

After a little Dean began to drowse and Emma
poked him awake. “Wake up, sleepy. You still have to drive
back.”

“
Yeah…” he groaned. “I
really have to practice for tomorrow. You slippers have been an
almost constant distraction since we met.” He smiled to indicate
the easy deal that had been to make.

“
Don’t worry. We’ll all be
back in time for your first challenge,” Emma promised.

“
Good. I’ll need all the
help I can get,” Dean impressed on them. He turned to Ione. “I
noticed the Metrognome wasn’t in the convertible.”