Page 57 of The Pleasure Contract

So yeah, I think it’s safe to say these aren’t your usual IKEA flatpack items. Them things is for fuckin’.

I know Niska and Kiahn have one of these benches, but I don’t know the mechanics of it all, and as much as I probed my friend, she wouldn’t give up the juicy details. I caught a glimpse of the thing once, but can’t remember if it looked like that one over there that looks like the lovechild of a chiropractor’s office and a dominatrix’s dungeon, or the one next to it with enough buttons to launch a spaceship.

I stand there a little slack-jawed as Lazzy carries on explaining about pristinely preserved examples of the very first Xaviann breeding contracts they keep behind glass. He gestures casually to a wall of mounted objects that look like a BDSM enthusiast’s wet dream. There are cages, and straps, and masks of so many designs, it’s kind of dizzying.

“And over here, you’ll find a prototype version of a padded bite stick – a piece of apparatus designed for the male to wear and bite into-”

“Wait,” I say, maybe a little too loudly for a museum setting. Several other visitors peel their eyes from the Swiss Army knives of alien sex to stare at me instead. Clearing my throat, I step closer to Lazzy, Az following along closely behind me. “Wait,” I try again, quieter this time. “Are you telling me you guys could have been biting down on things instead of strapping your women into Inspector Gadget’s fuck chair this whole time?”

Lazzy gives me a quizzical look before stepping aside to show another version of the ‘bite stick’ – this one completely snapped in half. Okay, so that wouldn’t work. My eyes scan the walls, landing on something that looks a bit like an incredibly elaborately decorated muzzle, complete with gold and jewels. Jesus, these guys go all out on their sex toys.

“What about something like that?” I ask, pointing.

Lazzy shakes his head, lamenting. “The males who sampled these restrictive devices all reported discomfort in using them.”

I blink at him a moment before being unable to contain myself. “Well boo-fucking-hoo!” I huff, turning more heads in our direction.

Lazzy scrambles. “Well… er… yes, the imbalance has been known to be unfairly tipped toward the male’s preferences in the past, it is true. But females are still able to request the use of these bite restriction devices during their contract negotiations,” he says, gesturing to the wall of masks, mouth cages, and what look like weird gumshield-type things for their fangs.

“And how often would the males agree to those?” I ask, raising a brow.

“I-… well… I don’t have the data on… contract negotiations are a very private matter and-”

“I think we’ll take it from here, Lazzy,” Az says, clapping the smaller male on the shoulder to save him from digging himself a bigger hole. He then gestures for us to walk the room alone, without our guide.

I can hear Lazzy blustering behind us, but Az is already leading me away, leaning down to murmur, “You know, if you wanted me to use a bite stick, I’d happily do so.”

I snort-laugh at that. “Would it stop you from saying incorrigible shit like that?”

He side-eyes me with a lazy grin. “You need to stop being so mean to me in public, or I’m going to get a ‘fang boner’, as you like to call it.”

“Az!” I laugh, lightly slapping him in his rock-hard abs.

We come to what feels like a natural standstill together in front of one of the spotlighted breeding benches on display, and I…

Well, I…

I don’t know what to say.

Seemingly, neither does Az as he stands there in a sturdy, wide-leg stance, his hands shoved into his pants pockets.

I lean over to him and whisper my question as I stare up at the contraption of straps, padding, and some kind of wipe-clean leather. “You ever use one of these things?”

I’m not even sure why I asked, because I don’t think I really want to know if he has.

He turns to me with a raised brow. “Xaviann,” he says, gesturing to his own chest, “remember?”

Oh right.

The whole no-touchy-touchy-without-an-airtight-contract thing.

“Yeah, but… not even in one of your simulator romps?”

Why am I still asking questions, Godamnit?!

Az wets his lips as he looks at me for a long moment before shaking his head just a fraction. “What about you?”

I eye the complicated-looking breeding bench in front of us again. “No, and I think I’d need an instruction manual with diagrams first.”