Ten days.

Those two words kept echoing throughout Bailey’s thoughts like two reverberating gunshots.

Ten. Days.

Maybe if those days were important, Bailey might not have felt such a horrible, impatient rage bubbling throughout her entire body. Perhaps if they were spending all but one of those days tomorrow doing anything but sitting on their asses, she’d want to wring Kern’s neck less.

One barely relevant combat mission, then nine days of fucking nothing. Unbelievable. What a pathetic way to reacquaint herself with Circe.

All this for the rescue mission that didn’t even matter.

…

Bailey couldn’t help getting lost in thought right now. Sarah, her already inevitable distraction for the evening, had a critical meeting with Kern, and she figured interrupting the work of Aoi wouldn’t do either of them any good in the fight tomorrow.

Alas, there Bailey was, lying down on a lumpy, temporary bed far away in distance and quality from the double bed currently collecting dust back on Corvis Base. She was nude, of course. What need was there in modesty with a bunkmate like Sarah Ducor, hm?

Sadly, there was no fun being had with neither nudity nor Sarah right now. Bailey’s gaze was affixed on the ceiling, more unwelcome and undesired pondering forming a pit in her stomach.

The words she parted with Aoi on earlier kept replaying in her head like a broken, repeating record.

“We’ll get her out just you and me if we have to!”

Bailey believed every word of that. Truly, she did. Aoi was a cute little thing, but pivotally, she’d been honest and judgment-free with Bailey since the day they met. Perhaps that was an adorable, stupid little mistake out of her, but Bailey had grown an unfamiliar, somewhat unwanted appreciation for it.

If Kern backed out of their arrangement, and Bailey had to put a bullet in her head, she knew Aoi would be in her corner. That, at the barest of minimums, Aoi and Bailey would torch all of Ansa to get Nataliza back.

…

But if Aoi was willing to throw out her home and comrades to save Nataliza from whatever vile shit they were doing… what was stopping Bailey from putting a gun to the hacker’s head and making her do it now?

It wouldn’t be new for Bailey. Information gathering as a merc required less-than-scrupulous morals and a willingness to take a civilian behind a building to put a gun in their mouth. It was the cost of doing business then, and it would be the cost of doing business now. Simple as.

Bailey kept telling herself that, at least; trying to convince herself that she could cut out this worthless waiting and do it her way. She would have before. She wouldn’t have even had to think about it before.

So, why did the thought of it make her feel like puking? Why did she have to black out the image of a gun against the back of Aoi’s temple like it was a bad memory? Like it was the death of her parents or something?

Gods, why did doing it to fucking DeSoto illicit a weaker, but similar reaction? She didn’t even like Sierra.

Well, certainly not right now, at least. Tough to recall fond dinner dates with a girl who got your lover nabbed by the United Arcadium.

Nataliza did it. She really managed to ruin them both. She and that damn Valkyrie, Sasha.

Why did she feel like this?

…

Handily for Bailey, just before she had to reflect over wants and feelings both, the door to her bunk opened, and her short, blonde bunkmate walked through with a soft, shy smile on her face. Certainly an interesting face to be making after a critical meeting of the minds, but Bailey had quite the nose on her.

Mh, yeah, cheap boot polish. The kind you get when you either don’t have any money, don’t have any time, or don’t have any sense. As far as Bailey was concerned, Kern was likely the latter.

Save some fun for your betters, Mallory.

Still, it’d be rude not to acknowledge her precious, beloved bunkmate, wouldn’t it now?

“Took your time, didn’t you, Sare~?” Bailey let her words practically ooze from her lips, not even a small hint of her emotional conflict present in her cloying voice. “How’d that little meet go, hm? Is Mallory doing well?” Bailey let a little venom sneak into the last question, while she readjusted her form on the uncomfortable, jagged rock PostTech called a bed. Corporate mutts.

Ah, there was that growing bit of Nataliza in her again…

That swiftly passed, and her body moved to a comfortable, alluring pose than simply lying down with her head in the stars. Sitting up and crossing her legs with just enough room for her cock and balls to be nice and visible always worked a treat on certain somebodies.

Those immediate stares and the slight flushing of Sarah’s cheeks? Yeah, girls with pixie cuts loved the nude model posing, alright. Shame Bailey didn’t have a lollipop on hand to complete the set.

Gods, Nataliza always fell for that one.

But Nataliza wasn’t here for now, she was kidnapped, and you’ll save her later.

Focus, Bailey.

“O-Oh, uhm… It went fine, o-of course. Just, uhm, talking about piloting tomorrow. I get the jitters sometimes…” Sarah stammered and blushed her way through what Bailey saw as less a lie and more a half-truth. She seemed the type to get a little nervous, that sure was the case in Lucy’s bar, the poor, adorable little kitten.

Bailey’s nose never lied, though. Nor did her sly tongue ever miss a chance to gently poke at her prey.

“Mh, I don’t remember you being anywhere near as talkative when you were polishing my boots~.” Bailey teased with a trademark, smug smirk.

Ah, the blushing. The sweat dripping down her face. Just beautiful. She didn’t even to drug her drink to get any of it this time!

“A-Ah, yeah I-I guess I don’t either…” Sarah seemed perfectly honest there. Those old pills she threw out in front of Nataliza a few months back had a knack for making a weaker mind forget the finer details of their narcotized state. Shame. “I-I did want to ask, though…” Oh? Sarah wanted to do more than stutter and drool against Bailey’s cock? Color the ex-merc surprised!

“Go on, Sare. I only bite sometimes~.” Bailey got another satisfying blush from Sarah, but did perk up a bit when she noticed the blonde’s face paint itself in what looked like concern.

Whatever concerns could a kitty cat like her have, hm?

“M-Mhm…” Bailey’s flirting amusingly broke Sarah’s already spotty focus, but she regained it as she stepped further into the room. She even kept eye contact with the gorgeous, naked pilot caught in her affectionate staring. How cute. “I wanted to ask if you were… okay? You seemed tense, and, uhm… I know Commander Kern can be… testy…” Sarah managed to keep herself from getting too antsy, and wore a face of genuine worry for a woman she’d met and not gotten to fuck exactly once prior.

Mh, testy was one fucking way of putting it, Bailey saw that smile on Kern’s face as she spoke those two words.

Ten. Days.

None of the growing annoyance at their supposed superior showed on Bailey’s face, a confident smile staying there in its place even as thoughts once again clouded her focus.

Was she okay?

…

Of course she fucking was. It’d take more than a kidnapping and a pompous wannabe fascist to change that. She was Bailey Cluanaire. This was just business.

Just.

Business.

“Never better. I think this whole Erin Lavern thing is a waste of time with far less need for urgency, but we’ll get it done, hm? Then we’ll move straight to getting Nataliza out.” Bailey spoke calmly, but the cloying playfulness in her voice was nowhere to be found. “And if your amazing commander tries to back out of that part of the deal… you can watch me blow her brains out. She’d deserve it, hm?” Bailey’s anger had clearly leaked out into a slight, malicious sentiment. She picked up on it quickly, but not quickly enough to prevent that slight slip of the tongue.

Focus, Bailey.

That wasn’t like you at all.

Control yourself.

“Sh-She would, mhm…” Sarah may as well have begun pulling at the collar of her shirt with how anxious she looked. Good, because Bailey meant every word of that. “I-I promise she won’t do that, though. Kern’s honest… even if she’s, you know, weird…” Ah, Sarah had such a knack for underselling that wretched little commander.

Emphasis on little.

“For her sake, let’s hope you’re right, Sare.” Bailey spoke with a clear sense of disinterest, shifting her pose a little to keep her goods in Sarah’s view while preparing to a more pleasant topic than dear little Mallory.

“I-I trust her, at least…” Sarah didn’t seem to sound too sure of that statement, but it could have also been that little preoccupied brain struggling to balance the tasks of rooting through a door and defending her second-rate Handler.

Sarah took a moment to pull out a small box from the drawer by her nightstand. Upon a less peripheral look from Bailey, it was clearly a Limbic branded medicine box. Undoubtedly the same chemical Kern had spoken of earlier. That had to mean one thing…

“So, uhm… I have to get ready for the mission tomorrow. Commander Kern said she could handle my, uhm… my medicine. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” Sarah spoke with a somber tone that hid her dissatisfaction with this potential arrangement worse than her floor gazing.

Mh, can’t imagine Kern is fun to be around when your mind can likely barely focus on a single person around you. Bailey had spent a collective ten minutes in her mostly shared company and already want to sew her mouth shut.

Bailey did say she wasn’t going to do this for Kern, though. Managing Sarah’s brain ruining regime was her business, even if Bailey could do with some easy stress relief. Especially with Aoi occupied as she was right now.

“Well, I certainly could do with a little rest after a day like this. Unless you wanted to ask me for a favor, hm?” Bailey figured she’d pry herself into this the best way she could, by teasing her way through whatever was going on inside Sarah’s brain.

Perhaps she just desperately needed a second round under Bailey’s boot, no?

“Right… rest…” Sarah’s disappoint was a palpable meal for Bailey. Come on, Sare. Out with it. “I mean… I, uhm… Well, if you wanted to help with this, K-Kern isn’t very gentle with injections, and I hear you, u-uhm…” Bingo. Whether Sarah knew why or not, she was hankering for another slice of Bailey Cluanaire. It’d just be rude to deny her that, wouldn’t it?

…

Bailey swatted a slight feeling of what she recognized as guilt briefly filling her stomach, smiling at Sarah and beginning to sit up on the side of her bed.

Showtime.

“You don’t have to beat around the bush, Sare. I was injecting combat stims into myself while you were still making snow angels with your parents back home.” Bailey let a slight tenderness grow in her voice, before the natural, smug charm started taking hold not long after. “I’ll look after you. It’s the least I can do for a friend, isn’t it~?” Her voice emanated a smooth, silky confidence that mirrored the tone Bailey used during her and Sarah’s last encounter. Yet, something else lurked in there that Bailey didn’t intend. A slight hint of earnestness.

Did Bailey have friends? Did she want them? Did she need them?

Fuck no. Bailey had herself, her talents, and Nata…

…

Shut the fuck up and focus, Bailey.

“W-Well… I guess if you’d be okay with it.” Sarah’s quiet acquiescence to Bailey’s charms managed to renew a bit of focus back in the obviously-not grieving pilot. All she needed was for Sarah to be a good kitty and ask nicely. “Would you mind helping me with this…?” Sarah already began approaching Bailey while she spoke, pulling the syringe of purple liquid from its box and tossing the loose cardboard onto Bailey’s nightstand.

Atta girl.

“Mh, my pleasure, Sare. Kern told me all about your medicine, so I’ll be sure to treat you nice and gently, okay?” Bailey’s voice had found an odd no man’s land between teasing and genuine, though how much either was winning the fight was a loss even to her. Deeply unlike her, but she ignored it.

“Y-Yes, ma’am.” Sarah was clearly nervous. Far more nervous than she had been in Lucy’s bar, and with no spiked drink here to calm her down.

This time, any soothing needed to come from Bailey’s carefully placed words, and the mysterious neural dampening drug handed to her by the short, pale skinned blonde. Better to use one of her cyber-arms for this. They were always that bit steadier.

They’d fucking want to be for the price, though.

“Okay, try and stay still for me. Wouldn’t want this to hurt more than it needs to, hm… cadet~?” Bailey, out of a want to keep Sarah steady and from pure instinct, spoke with a soft, teasing cadence much akin to their last meeting.

“You got it, ma’am.” Sarah’s slight shaking stopped, so the tactic of cloying, playful speech seemed more than worth it. She bent down enough to make finding the vein easier, too. Someone had practice, even if it was with a weaker woman.

Bailey saw no reason to delay or slow this injection. The syringe was a single-use, single dose affair, and something inside of Bailey had a burning need to see what this would do to Sarah. What did a neural dampener do? Was it like those cast away pills? Would Sarah just fall asleep after the injection, or would she be as suggestible as Kern implied?

Bailey’s hopes leaned towards the latter as she popped the cap off of the syringe and used one of her organic hands to gently find the vein in Sarah’s neck. This process took little time, and the light shakes of her soon-to-be docile bunkmate served as only minor obstacles for her syringe aiming to overcome.

“Don’t flinch too hard, cadet.” Bailey, for yet another uncharacteristic reason she swiftly ignored, gave Sarah more of a warning than most would get before pushing the tip of the needle into her vein at an angle.

“O-Ow…” Expectedly, Sarah flinched. Annoying, but Bailey wasn’t lying about her experience. When you need to inject a vital stim shot in the rumbling cockpit of a Gen 1 Whitehawk at the ripe old age of twenty just to stay alive, more than once might she add…

Well, you get a good hand for this shit, and with the needle in place, Bailey figured waiting for Sarah’s shakes to stop was pointless. The last thing Bailey was going to be tonight was patient, and she exemplified that lack of it by immediately pressing down on the plunger and letting the dose of purple liquid rush into Sarah’s bloodstream.

“A-Ah… Aha… M-Mnh…” Bailey immediately noted the difference in effect between this and the pills she used to carry. The latter was slow, subtle, and temporary, but she saw Sarah practically writhing in a mix of pleasure and some kind of adjustment.

Bailey, a stickler for keeping her bunk clean, placed the used syringe in the box on her nightstand and prepared to catch Sarah in the event this drug made her pass out.

Last thing she needed in this bunk was a girl with her skull cracked open, of course.

That was the only reason.

“Mhngggh…” Sarah’s mouth seemed to be attempting to utter words, but they weren’t produced in any kind of audible form.

Bailey kept a close eye on Sarah. She was drooling, but her breathing seemed fine. Her eyes were slightly glazed, but she still seemed to be able to stand. It was less like this drug was taking Sarah over and more that it was cutting parts of her off. Inconvenient parts.

If this was the kind of shit Limbic made for a rebel, then no fucking wonder the UA was that deep inside them.

Ah, how easy it was when politics was just a barely relevant part of her job. No thinking about what came after the war. No pondering the disgust she felt at her former corporate employers.

No Natali…

…

Will you just shut the fuck up and focus, Bailey?

…

Bailey’s attention moved from pondering in the silence of the bunk to analyzing Sarah some more. Speech had seemingly been lost from the girl entirely, beyond a few last incoherent babbles. Her gaze, formerly planted on the floor, was now locked to the only other woman in the room.

Her superior.

It was a look Bailey couldn’t even pretend to be unfamiliar with. Drugged girls looking at her like a goddess descended upon them had been most of her off days in that fifteen year gap between lost loves. If Sarah’s brain could even recall memories right now, she’d certainly know that.

Fuck, even now, it remained present in her life. Sasha had mostly grown past it when not weighed down by old imperial trigger phrases. 

Lark, well. Bailey deserved far more alert submission from an angry thing like that. Didn’t she now~?

Sarah, though, looked differently. Not like the very sight of Bailey was a sole target of affection, but like she was waiting on something.

Like she was wanting.

“There’s my precious little kitty cat. Are you feeling alright, cadet~?” Bailey gave a little chatter a try, eager to see if her smooth, smug speech was the delicious treat Sarah was looking for.

“Mhhhhmn…” Sarah’s content, nigh-brainless groan of approval was what followed the drugged-up kitty cat practically humming along with each and every syllable that Bailey spoke. Her head nodded, and Bailey could swear she saw a brief sparkle in those eyes of hers.

Like Bailey was a siren luring in easy prey.

Perhaps Bailey should have felt bad for this, and maybe she would afterward, if such a thing was even possible. But, having such a sense of control over Sarah felt just as wonderful as it always did in the past.

She did say that she’d look after Sarah in this state, and the best way to do that was obviously to give the girl something to do, right? Besides, didn’t Sierra tell her to try not to get too stressed out right now?

Mh, yes she did. Bailey was doing Sarah a favor, and the least she could get for that was a favor or two in return, assuming Sarah could still use those hands at all.

Suppose she had two orifices plenty good for giving favors if she couldn’t, hm?

“Well, if you’re doing fine, cadet, maybe you’d like to help me out with something. You did such amazing work on my boots last time, didn’t you~?” Bailey decided that keeping her words concise was as pointless as not getting relief from this adorable drugged animal. If her words were like music to Sarah’s ears, then she’d sing them out to her heart’s content.

Wasn’t like much ever stopped Bailey from speaking her every delicious sounding thought, anyway.

“Mhnmmm…” Sarah nodded again, lightly smiling as Bailey’s smooth words gently wormed into her precious little brain like an earworm.

Bailey had to assume the poor thing would have approved no matter what, and was irresistibly eager to test just how far that went. What eluded her was how. Getting her boots cleaned and polished was always a phenomenal time, but Sasha had already fit in time to do that before she left Corvis Base.

Damn fine job, too. Even shinier than the rare times she’s flexed her own boot blacking skills.

Hmm, there was that other thing, though…

“Aren’t you such a helpful kitten? Do tell, have you ever cleaned a gun before?” Bailey asked with yet more slow sweetness leaving her equally sweet lips.

She figured her odds weren’t too high with this one, of course. The only precious, controllable thing she’d run into in the Arcadia system who could pilot and maintain a gun was Sasha. Yet, for whatever reason, the poor pigeon was extremely squeamish around them.

Mh, cameras and guns. Perhaps those fears were an omen of what they’d do to Nataliza…

Will you fucking focus, Bailey?

Sarah nodded without a sound this time, a smile of approval joining it not a moment later.

Now that was a rare jackpot. Sure, Bailey could maintain her own revolver better than fine, but much like with boot polishing, it was a time-consuming little task. One that was far more fun to watch a weird pervert get lost in instead.

Perhaps something like that was her in with Sierra and Ina, hm? Either way, best to leave thoughts like that in the trash for a while.

Let’s see if this can relieve just a little stress for her.

“So eager, cadet. Well, do I have a job for you~.” Bailey decided to cut the questioning at this point. Her voice was clearly enough for the docile kitten, and the feeling of control it gave the ex-merc was like a drug in its own right.

Or was that just an excuse? Who knew, who cared?

Certainly not Bailey. Not a fucking chance.

That was the bulk of Bailey’s thoughts as she rooted through a bag resting by her bed. Her gun had already long been placed in the drawer of her nightstand, but in the bag was one of her final financial splurges before joining Corvis Base proper.

“I’m sure a girl like you has dealt with a revolver before, Sare. I’d really appreciate it getting a good clean before our mission tomorrow.” Bailey pulled a pricey revolver cleaning kit from her bag. The kind one might see with boasts and testimonials about the custom formula used in their solvents, and the extra strength durability in their cleaning wipes.

In truth, it was probably all the same shit. But if that old perv back in Chalybe sold it, the worst it could be is overpriced, and Bailey was still only teetering towards thinking about her future finances again. Getting a new, entirely custom and proprietary mech suit built in secrecy was expensive. Who knew, hm?

Nataliza knew, and given the BC2-Hedone was built for the poster girl’s attention, that lingered in Bailey’s mind like yet another parasite. It was the whole damn reason she brought Circe for this instead.

Focus. Bailey.

…

Of course, Sarah had nodded a bit before Bailey’s train of thought stopped again, but making the mindless blonde wait was its own form of delicious control. Right now, it was good to feel powerful again.

Good enough for her to have gotten hard as a rock without realizing it, too.

“Depends, though. Are you good enough at it? This revolver means more to me than most of the girls on this base, after all, Sare~?” Bailey jabbed Sarah with the final question planned for this delicious captured prey tonight. The gun cleaning kit, neatly packaged in a clear, plastic box, was given a small shake in her view.

It was odd, though. Bailey would have said every girl on this base in the past… hm, suppose Aoi alone was pretty valuable. A soft spot for Sasha but she was back hom-

Fucking focus.

“G-Good… enough…!” Sarah spoke her first, heavily slurred and uncomfortably slow words since she was given her medicine. There was an eagerness to them despite it, Bailey recognized that much. Perhaps there was more going on in that brain right now than she figured?

Perhaps that, too, was an excuse.

“Atta girl. Have at it~.” Bailey motioned with one of her cyber-arms for Sarah to present one of her hands. Like a good, trained, and obedient little kitty cat, Sarah gave the ex-merc her paw.

Sarah did seem capable of following a looser, implied order. Slowly and lethargically she sat down on the cold floor of their bunk, heavily contrasted by the reflexive, quicker unboxing of Bailey’s cleaning kit.

It was almost like Sarah’s brain was running on primarily muscle memory. Didn’t seem like the best candidate for a neurally piloted mech, but what did Bailey know, she sure as shit had no plans to get in one of those deathtraps anytime soon.

What Bailey did know was that you needed a gun to perform gun cleaning. She moved aside a little, both to give Sarah ample work space, and to better reach the drawer of her nightstand. With one of her cyber-arms, she pulled out a .45 caliber revolver from said drawer.

The revolver itself was personalized, much like every facet of Bailey’s existence. Its finish was primarily a sleek, icy white to match her beautiful mech suit, BC1-Circe. Engraved along both sides of the barrel and cylinder was a strange wing design. A pattern somewhere between the feathery wings of an angel, and the sharper wings of a demon.

Perhaps it had some greater meaning, but Bailey had long forgotten it. It was a gift from the most important person in the galaxy to her.

Someone who wasn’t here.

“Now let me just…” Bailey smiled with a calm warmth and reverence, flicking the safety on and emptying the cylinder of its six hollow point rounds and placing them gently on the night stand. She handed the gun to Sarah after a brief, sentimental gaze at the grip tape shedding from the handle of the firearm. Her expression was wistful, but it turned smug just as fast. “There. Get to work, cadet~.” Bailey gave that her best sickly sweet razzle-dazzle and let Sarah grip the revolver.

Time to see if this kitten needed a better owner. Trick question, of course she did.

Said kitten was quick to get to work, and just as quick to prove to Bailey that talent lurked underneath her drugged, nervous surface. With focus betraying her glazed eyes, Sarah performed one more check on the safety and her own check for any remaining rounds in the cylinder.

There weren’t, of course. Bailey was a professional, but she was a professional who beamed a slightly appreciative smirk down at her kitty cat.

Sarah gazed up at the smirk with a slight glimmer in her foggy eyes, amusing Bailey, before she returned to the task at hand.

Sarah started by squirting some solvent onto a patch no bigger than her cheek, tying it to a flexible cable, and threading said cable through the breach to the muzzle.

So far, so good, but she stopped to look up at Bailey again with a gaze that either anticipated guidance or admonishment. Bailey enjoyed hearing her own voice as much as the next self-loving domme, but she wasn’t about to treat Sarah like Kern did.

No, she’d get the Cluanaire touch or nothing at all.

“Mh, go ahead, cadet. I trust you~.” Bailey spoke with genuine sincerity. If Sarah’s boot blacking skills were anything to go by, this precious kitten was plenty capable with her hands.

And deliciously fun to cloyingly toy with.

“Mh…mmmm…” Sarah’s voice was still quiet and mostly incapable of a proper response, but that was more than okay for Bailey. If she wanted a back and forth with a charismatic wonder, she had Aoi.

If she wanted a drugged up, simple feline, she had Sarah.

Bailey watched with blissful dominance in her eyes as Sarah run the attached patch through the barrel of her gun with trained, steady precision. Smooth. Free from error. All while Sarah was drugged out of her mind and gawking at her superior like she was an irresistible fallen angel.

Fuck, that turned Bailey on.

Sarah continued to present Bailey with the kind of capabilities only a quality little pervert could offer. She repeated the cable process with a dry patch this time, pulling it through the barrel without as much as a shake in her hands.

Much like when she cleaned Bailey’s boots in a differently drugged state, Sarah was showing dormant, prior skill that betrayed her meek appearance. Paired with it, though, was light drooling and more than a little pride in her work that betrayed it all ten times as hard.

If Sarah was simply doing good work entirely vacantly, then Bailey would have simply been a little into it. But as she watched Sarah thread another, final dry patch through her barrel and move to delicately repeat the process on her gun’s six chambers, she couldn’t help herself.

An organic hand moved between her legs, and in a move driven by accidental engrossment in Sarah’s work, she began idly stroking her twitching, needy cock in tandem with the gun cleaning kitten.

Sarah’s eyes did pause to peek up at the alluring, delicious treat only a dozen inches from her face. It didn’t impede her work. Honestly, it seemed like she could have gotten the insides of those chambers spotless with her eyes blindfolded. Yet, for some reason Bailey couldn’t quite parse tonight, she preferred it when Sarah’s eyes weren’t meeting her own.

“Ah, ah, ah. Focus on your mission first, kitty cat~.” That was a new sensation for Bailey to wrestle with another day. She kept her cool and successfully led Sarah’s vacant eyes back down to her gun.

Barrel was clean. Chamber was clean. There was even a little stiffy in Sarah’s combat pants. Precious, especially compared to the impressive, exposed meat Bailey was jerking just out of Sarah’s view. Just adorable.

Fun as that all was, though, there was a wrinkle.

Bailey saw Sarah begin the process of wiping down the cylinder and surrounding areas of her revolver. Much like her cleaning of the internals, it was precise, shockingly focused, and accompanied by the odd sliver of drool trailing down Sarah’s lips.

The ex-merc’s idle cock stroking continued its synced rhythm with Sarah’s fluid wipes of every nook and cranny of Bailey’s revolver. The combined chemical scents of gun cleaning solvent and strong cleaning wipes had an effect on Bailey similar to the rush a good wiff of well-polished leather gave her.

It was all fantastic, but Bailey knew where a good wipe down ended. She saw Sarah cast aside the wipe used on the metal body of her firearm, and turn her attention to the revolver’s wooden grip.

The tape on one side began to get peeled off, and Bailey didn’t stop it. She didn’t know why. She could have. She should have.

She didn’t.

Bailey watched the tape get tossed to the ground without a single thought. Sarah was too far lost in the drugged state Bailey placed her in to look at the fine details of the grip.

Frankly, Bailey just didn’t have the heart to look herself. She knew Sarah would do good work cleaning the tape residue away. There was little reason to watch, and Bailey’s well-masked gaze of internal conflict turned back to Sarah’s face.

That was easier to look at

Much easier to look at. Far simpler to stroke her leaking cock to.

Though, in the corner of her eye, she saw Sarah start to reach for the replacement tape Bailey had in her kit, having run through the rhythm of wet wiping and drying with a cloth after. That was the last step, right? It was clean after that, just as Bailey asked.

…

Bailey didn’t know what was beginning to possess her, nor what drove her to be so fucking sentimental tonight. But she had to speak.

She had to butt in.

“Mh, I think that’s enough, don’t you think~?” Bailey’s saccharine voice stayed strong even as unfamiliar confusion struck her every thought. She saw Sarah nod, still holding the unloaded gun in her hand and awaiting some kind of instruction from Bailey. Gun was clean, after all. “Besides, I have something much more important for you to help me with. Hand me the gun, kitty cat~.” The only thing Bailey could think of doing was making it dirty again.

That’d get these stupid fucking thoughts out of her head.

Why aren’t you focusing, Bailey?

…

Sarah brought the gun towards her, holding it by the barrel so Bailey could grab it by the grip with a cyber-arm. That was promptly done, and Bailey paused for a brief moment to figure out her next move.

The idea blooming in her head wasn’t a pretty one, but neither were the thoughts fueling it. She needed to distract herself, and sitting in front of her was a vacant, mindless fucking distraction.

Driven by horny instinct and copious thought burying, Bailey reached over to her nightstand with her right organic hand and grabbed a single .45 caliber round from it. Just as promptly as it was grabbed, it was loaded into the cylinder, which was then closed by Bailey and given a few spins to jumble the placement of the round.

All this, of course, was done while her left organic hand idly stroked at her throbbing cock. Benefits of having four hands, right?

“I’ve got one last bit of cleaning for you to do, kitten…” Bailey’s every syllable still oozed the controlling, addictive sleaze Sarah loved, but Bailey knew she was rushing it. She just had to do this. “Open wide~.” Bailey managed to deliver that order with slow, frisky energy that countered her quick pace and quicker thoughts.

Would you do this to Nataliza if she ended up like Sarah, too?

Where’s the focus, Bailey?

…

Sarah opened her mouth wide at Bailey’s command, and with a rush that let Bailey’s mind drown out her worthless thoughts, she pushed the muzzle about halfway inside Sarah’s mouth. She wasn’t looking to choke her or anything. She wouldn’t be much good for Bailey’s specific needs unconscious.

Right now, she needed to be nice and awake for her.

“Suck on it, kitty cat. Like that little strap-on Mari probably uses on you.” Sarah seemed to perk up both at Bailey’s insistent, teasing demand, and the mention of her girlfriend. 

Ah, that cute red-head at Lucy’s bar. How sad her life must have been without the odd appearance from Bailey at her place of work.

Sad indeed…

Bailey had already forgotten why she was pondering that prostitute girlfriend, and the mouth of Sarah Ducor closing around the muzzle of her prized revolver shut out any chance of them becoming the focus again tonight.

“Atta girl. Niiice and careful~.” Bailey was eagerly watching the blonde, brainless pet work her gun, and her tone made no attempt to hide that enjoyment.

The work was sloppy, and in a fashion neither Sarah’s boot blacking nor gun cleaning displayed, decidedly inexperienced. Not that many in Bailey’s life had much to begin with. The two who did seemed eager to never end up that way, too.

…

Perhaps that should have caused Bailey to reflect, but this was no time for it. She was watching a pliant animal drool all over a gun she was sucking like it was the best dick in the world. She could enjoy that.

She needed to.

“Mhmmm. Just take it a bit deeper, Sare~.” Bailey edged Sarah closer to the brink of lethal danger, and the kitten didn’t even try to meow in protest.

The gun went deeper, and Bailey’s depravity went with it. The stroking of her twitchy, needy dick grew more fierce, and her cyber-hand holding the gun placed its sharp index finger by the trigger.

There was risk. Real risk. Bailey trusted her trigger finger more than she trusted most of her comrades, but accidents happen in the heat of depraved, desperately distracted passion. And if that accident occurred, there was a one in six chance that Sarah’s current chew toy would rip a hole through the back of her head.

It was control. A beautiful, necessary feeling of control and familiarity that Bailey’s life sorely lacked these last few days. It was a sense of control that made her push the gun deeper without giving Sarah a hint of a warning. It was what made her thrust into her soft, tight hand in a much-needed bid to cum all over that stupid, pretty little face of hers.

…

It was what made her flick the safety off on her gun, guaranteeing that an accidental, hard slip of her cold, synthetic trigger finger would potentially spell the end of Sarah.

It was what ruined everything.

At the audible click of the safety being turned off, Bailey saw fear on the otherwise vacant, drooling, gun-stuffed face of Sarah Ducor. It was the kind of fear Bailey had usually gotten off on. Fear that those beneath her deserved to experience at her whim. Nataliza felt it in the mech, but Bailey had grown attached to it outside her hulking behemoth of steel.

But, this time… it felt fucking awful.

Bailey didn’t know why there was a pit of utter disgust in her stomach. Worse yet, she didn’t even know if it was a real look of fear, or merely her imagination.

Either way, it was too late to change course. “F-Fuuuck… G-Good girl. Good girl~!” Bailey did everything in her power to stay composed and in control as she blurted out her piss poor orgasm warning.

Sarah’s face lied vacant as glob after glob of Bailey’s cum fired onto her face like a few shots of a burst-fire pistol. Fortunately, the pistol causing drool to drip from her wet lips onto the floor below remained unfired. The safety was flicked on before Bailey could even finish mixing the messy spit on Sarah’s with her copious, creamy spurts of hot cum.

When the orgasm subsided, Bailey was as dormant as the girl with a pistol in her mouth.

Why did she feel like this? So awful. So fucking terrible.

Bailey had done this a dozen times to girls with more value than Sarah. But if they held such value in the food chain of life, why was Sarah the one to make her feel like scum? She was empty. She was absolutely incapable of thought.

So why?

…

Bailey was distraught, and her face showed it. She knew that, she felt the fucking frown on her face. Oh, pity her, the girl who lost her girlfriend because an idiot she thought she liked was a dumbass with no planning ability in the slightest. Bailey was better than feeling like this.

She sighed, planting herself back on the bed and unloading the single shot in her revolver after pulling it from Sarah’s maw. In her clouded thoughts, Bailey neglected to look at which chamber the bullet was located in. Perhaps she didn’t want to know at all. It made it that bit easier to focus on the gun in her hand, which she held in her cyber-hand tenderly, thoughts beginning to cloud her mind further.

Bailey knew that this feeling wasn’t new. Dismantling Lark was, in theory, a wonderful time, but using the control methods of that pathetic fucking devil left a void in her. Sasha and Lark were broken away from Handler, but Bailey could have done that without making them spread their wings like that.

This, however, was worse. There, Bailey felt embarrassed for using cheap tricks. Here, she felt guilt, For the first time in fifteen years, guilt rammed into her again.

Pathetic. She was better than feeling like this. If she was going to be a moronic, sentimental, emotional ass… well, she might as well do it her way.

With some damn stealth.

“Alright, good work, cadet. Up on the bed for me, and bring one of those wipes with you.” Bailey’s tone wore a calm, playful, and earnest sense of warmth that the vacant Sarah immediately took to.

As ordered, the little kitten was up on the bed and, assuming it was what Bailey wanted, lying on the minimal bed space next to her.

For whatever it was worth, Bailey made no effort to correct her. She let Sarah lie down, and took the wipe from the girl’s weak grip, tracing it around her cum soaked face until it was as clean as it could be. Always time for a shower together tomorrow, right?

Mh, definitely. There we go, Bailey. Back to your old self again. How easy.

How pathetic.

“I think you earned a little rest after all that work, hm, Sare? Big mission tomorrow, after all. Might be nice for you if I’m impressed after it~.” Bailey smirked, letting that sleazy, playful person take over while enjoying the soft hums and affectionate staring that followed.

“Mh…mmmm… For… you…” Those were the only words that Sarah managed to utter before her need to follow orders kicked in. Within what Bailey could generously call ten seconds, Sarah was completely knocked out, asleep next to her with what looked like a smile.

It was cute, and Bailey wanted to believe it was all earnest, but her stomach still had that pit. It was all drugs. All manufactured. In the one instance where Sarah herself broke through it, she was terrified of Bailey’s actions.

Maybe Sarah liked the gun repair. Bailey sure as shit did. But that was wrong. She couldn’t just throw the life of a comrade into the fire to jack off. She couldn’t be that woman anymore.

…

Gods, Nataliza, what the fuck did your gaggle of girl scouts do to her…?

Bailey’s curiosity began to get the best of her, and her right cyber hand reached for the discarded medicine box on her nightstand. She pulled out the paper insert with her right organic hand and tossed the box back where it lied previously.

What Bailey expected to read was a bunch of side effects listed with clinical precision and expertise. What she got was a folded up note from Limbic CEO Holly Walker addressed to Kern.

CEO Holly Walker, huh? Talk about a corporate climber, that bitch was a combat representative barely a year ago.

Sadly, the role of former bosses wasn’t the important information in this little note.

No, one bit of key info stuck out.

“...my team at Limbic surmise she has up to a dozen uses left in her before the drug attacks the brain on a more permanent basis.”

A dozen uses. Tops.

And Bailey just wasted one of them on some masturbation that left her feeling sick.

…

Bailey couldn’t get lost in this now. There were times to rake Kern over the coals for this, and they were after Bailey had gotten what she needed from the callous cunt.

Either way, there wasn’t a chance Bailey was doing this shit to Sarah again. Perhaps she wouldn’t have even if the drug wasn’t killing her, but Bailey was better than that.

Right?

…

Bailey sighed, tossing the note on the nightstand too before taking a final look at her gun. The part she couldn’t look at before. The part she refused to, because the person who deserved to see it was long gone.

On both sides of the revolver’s grip was a meticulous, professional carving.

♡NLR

The last gift she got from Nataliza before they broke up. Before she lost her for fifteen years.

Before she lost her forever…

…

No. That was pathetic fucking talk, Bailey. She was going to be rescued. Be that by a well organized consortium of rebels, or just her and Aoi.

She’d see her again, in one piece, with her mind as sound as ever. With that revolver serving as something Bailey deserved to see in its entirety, instead of a reminder of who she was…

Hell, who she still is. Can she even be anything else?

…

Time to sleep. She and Sarah both had a useless diversion to get to tomorrow, after all, and as much as her stomach was eating at her very soul, she needed to rest.

She needed to be better, but for now, rest and another worthless waste of time to follow took precedent.

Two more of them, and she’d get Nataliza back.

She had to.