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Status Quo - Chapter 45

Written by: Paullell

 As Lana crouches down with Daray, her hands quickly take up the rope of blue and white hair and start to work at it the way Lana’s had worked her own. Her movements are clumsy and awkward, and her brow furrows in frustration at the difficulty she is having. It instantly apparent that she is trying to return Lana’s efforts, but her dexterity is simply not up to the task.

 

She tries for several minutes, growing more and more frustrated, until she finally collapses in a heap beneath the shower’s spray, whimpering and crying, hands still clutching futilely at Lana’s hair. The look of frustration on her face suggests that she knows she should be able to perform this simple task, but for some reason she can’t make her body conform to this understanding.

 

A quiet knock at the still-open bathroom door, draws Lana’s attention long enough that she sees the woman there with a tray of food and drink. She holds the tray out to indicate that it is for them, then turns to carry it back into the bedroom and set it down somewhere.

 

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At first Lana tries to stop Daray, acutely conscious of the hidden vial in the base of her ponytail but it quickly becomes apparent that this is something that is important to let her see through.  With a sigh of resignation she turns to give her better access to her braid and suffers the occasional pull to her hair as she tries to undo the braid.  When Daray gives up and falls to the floor crying, Lana’s heart sinks and she reaches out to rub at her slick shoulder.  “Shhh.. Its alright!  You’ll get there.  We’re not rushing this.”  She looks up guiltily when the woman enters the room .  She nods her head, saying “Thank you.  We’ll be out in a minute,” and is unsurprised when she gets no response from the servant.

 

Lana gently disengages Daray’s grip from her hair and badgers her back to her feet.  “Come on.  Stand up again.  We need to rinse your hair off.”  She adjusts the spray again to get the last of the conditioner rinsed out.  Lana notices again that the skin suit is completely clean with only a moderate amount of rinsing.  She wrings out Daray’s hair and then grabs a towel and after thrusting it into her hands shoos her out of the shower.  “Daray, go over there and dry yourself off.”  She points to an area of the room that does not have shrapnel from Daray’s earlier destruction.

 

 

With some difficulty she strips off the gold skirt and shirt and drops them just outside the shower.  Lana then takes her hair the rest of the way down.  She leaves the shower open so that Daray can see her as she quickly soaps her body and shampoos her hair.  The little vial is wet now but it doesn’t look to have been harmed from it. Lana tucks the vial into the pile of clothes until she thinks of where to hide it next.  She has to be careful to keep from stepping on the shards of stone that have fallen onto the floor of the shower, but soon she is clean.  She shuts the water off and grabs a towel, wrapping it around herself before stepping out of the shower.  She looks around immediately to see what Daray is doing.

 

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It takes propping her against the wall again to get Daray standing upright, or some approximation of upright. She enjoys the rinsing water and combing fingers again, but not nearly as much as the first time, then lopes out of the shower on hands and feet when Lana shoos her away.

 

By the time Lana finishes up and checks on her, Daray has somehow managed to drape her towel over the edge of the bathtub and is rubbing her cascade of hair against the towel, by trapping it between the side of the tub and her back and grinding her back against the tub. She’s grunting and sputtering in frustration, but seems to have gotten most of the water out of her hair. 

 

When she sees that Lana is watching, she quickly pulls the towel of the edge of the tub, draping it over her shoulders so that it traps her hair in a relatively narrow cascade down the center of her back, preventing it from splaying out around her and tripping her up. She then moves up to Lana, trailing a little waterfall and a sort of pained smile on her face, and just leans against her legs as she sets about drying herself.

 

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Lana tries to smile encouragingly and she reaches down to help Daray finish drying herself.  Once they are no longer trailing water she scoops up her clothing off of the floor and leads them back into the main room.  The injection gets tucked into her cleavage with the towel wrapped tightly around her.  Lana ignores the food for now, wanting to get Daray’s hair brushed and re-braided.  After rummaged around the room she finds multiple products and brushes. 

 

She tugs Daray over to the bed and with encouraging words gets her up and onto the comforter.  She climbs up and sits cross-legged behind her as she quickly yet gently begins brushing out the tangles.  Once her hair is tangle free and reasonably dry Lana begins to re-braid it high on her head and using the generous supplies available to her.  She twists and coils it until the long braid is gathered in decorative loops on her head keeping it well off of the floor.  She looks around the room making certain they are alone and then with a moments inspiration she takes the injection vial and tucks it into Daray’s hair.  With a few pats and tucks it is easily hidden in the very center of the mass.  Lana leans forward and hugs her.  She whispers quietly. “Alright, I’m all done.  Don’t let anyone else touch your hair.  OK sweetie? It’s very important.”

 

Lana lets go of her and then starts to brush the tangles out of her own hair. More time has passed and she is growing tense again, wondering if in one minute, or twenty, Turin will be back from his business.

 

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Daray sits happily and lets Lana do whatever she wants with her copious volume of hair. When finished, she gives her head a few trial shakes and tosses, then turns around and sits down on the bed again, watching Lana go about her own ablutions with an intense interest. Her eyes are bright and curious again, but she still has a far-away look to her, as if she is missing something terribly important and doesn’t know what happened to it.

 

More than once she reaches out and runs her fingers through Lana’s hair as she is taking care of it. The sounds she makes are the closest thing a human being could ever make to a cat’s purring as she does so. When Lana finishes up and moves to find something to wear, Daray hops off the bed and follows her, staying within a foot of her at all times, either sitting on the floor next to her, or perched on a chair or stool near by.

 

Twice, she leaps up on some piece of furniture or other and tears a fixture, or piece of art off the wall, smashing it to bits before returning to Lana’s side with a satisfied look on her face.

 

For clothing, Lana is able to find only the most revealing apparel one could imagine. The closets and dresser drawers are stuffed with lacy, translucent, chiffon, satin, silk, rubber, and vinyl in the most outrageous cuts and styles imaginable, and all of the available footwear is in the form of stiletto-heeled shoes and boots. Obviously, Turin is a kinky pervert in addition to being completely deranged.

 

When she finishes dressing, Daray leads her over to the food brought in by the woman earlier and helps her pick through it, offering bits and pieces that she thinks Lana might like, and eating the bulk of it herself, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed next to Lana, almost in full-body contact with her.

 

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Lana runs the brush through her hair and tail until they are both silky and shining.  She leaves her hair down, now free and flowing to her hips. Once she is finished she climbs down off of the massive bed and begins to explore the room. 

 

Lana sighs with regret at the destruction of the art and fixtures.  It was nice to know that they had devices in them but now she would either have to explain the destruction or pretend ignorance when confronted by Turin about them.  Finally she makes her way over to the various dressers and begins to poke around, examining the clothing available to her.  Her reaction surprises even herself.  The outfits are gorgeous, fare more sexy and stunning than anything she had owned at the brothel and the materials are fabulous.  She chuckles as she realizes not a single thing here is appropriate to be worn outside but she can’t help but run her fingers lovingly over the outfits.  They all seem to be her size and in colors that will suit her pale skin tone and bright hair.  She plays with the metal collar around her neck as she sorts through the many options.  

 

Lana finally settles on a translucent blue scarf top with a matching vinyl bodice that fits over it.  Both are cropped short, the bodice only there to provide support for her breasts but not covering them and the scarf is so thin that the difference in hue between her skin and her nipples is faintly visible.  There is a matching skirt that has a vinyl portion that looks for all the world like a low slung belt which stops at her crotch. It has a hole for her tail and clings tightly to her hips and belly.  Where the vinyl stops a multitude of scarves begin falling diagonally to her knees. Except for where they are sewn at the top they are each left free to float around her so that with the slightest movement or breeze they part and reveal her long pale legs.  There seem to be no under things included in her wardrobe so she goes without and the outfit leaves her feeling sexy and vulnerable.  She finds a pair of stilettos that match the blue vinyl and puts them on, their straps lace up her calves. She executes a graceful twirl in front of Daray.  “Well, what do you think?”

 

She walks over to the tray and munches on the pieces that Daray offers her but mostly she keeps her eye on the door, waiting for it to open and nervous about how much of herself she will loose in her next encounter with Turin.  She takes comfort from the warmth where Daray's body touches her own.

 

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Daray watches happily as Lana twirls around, her cobalt eyes bright with excitement and approval. After they share some of the food and sit on the bed for a bit, just enjoying their company for a while, when the door opens, revealing the form of Turin as he says something to one of his women.

 

As he turns to step into the room, Daray growls and positions herself between him and Lana, her claws working reflexively and the patches on her forearms beginning to pulse and glow.

 

Turin stops moving for a moment, casting his eyes around the room at the mess Daray created in smashing his monitoring devices. He raises an eyebrow as he surveys the scene, completely ignoring Daray as he steps toward the bathroom, peeking through the door and shaking his head slightly as he turns to face the pair on the bed, emotions of love and caring radiating out from him again.

 

“It seems I owe you another apology Lana. I have listening equipment in all of the rooms, in all of my homes. It isn’t just or you though. I need to know what is going on in my empire, and sometimes things happen that need to be known. You’ve given yourself to me, so I have no reason to distrust you.” He steps closer to the bed, stopping again when Daray crouches down, shifting her weight from side to side as if she is getting ready to pounce.

 

Suddenly the wash of thoughts and emotions begins pressing in on Lana again. Turin looks directly into her eyes and smiles, “Lana, your pet is not allowed on the bed. I’m sure she’d be much more comfortable on the floor anyway.” He motions to the door and two women haul in a large, fluffy pillow, setting it on the floor at the foot of the bed, then moving back out of the room again.

 

Turin smiles sweetly as he looks at Lana, pressing his will against her expectantly.

 

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Lana’s heart leaps with fear when Daray assumes her aggressive stance.  She immediately puts her hands on Daray’s shoulders, restraining her as soon as she begins growling.  She runs her hands down her arms and over the glowing patches, trying to rub them away.  “Shhh.. No Daray.  Don’t do that.”  Lana is amazed when at first she doesn’t feel the pressure of his mind against hers and a shiver of nervousness works through her.  She is no longer tired enough to be fool hardy and enough in her own head to realize the dangerous game she is playing.  Lana tries to push Daray out of the way when Turin approaches the bed.

 

“No, it’s fine Turin.  I assumed you just wanted to assure yourself that I am safe at all times.  I’m sorry she made such a mess.  I’m working on her behavior, I promise.  On the plus side, if you ever need to have a room checked for devices, her ability could come in very handy.  I don’t even know how she knew they were there.” 

 

Lana closes her eyes against the suddenly renewed pressure of his mind.  She feels such regret that she had disappointed him.  All she wants is to make him happy, she had been selfish to allow Daray on the bed.  Lana bites her lip and she struggles to regain control of herself before she pushes at Daray, trying to get her out of the bed.  She looks back into Turin’s eyes, making no secret of the fact she is fighting back against his influence.  She stands up from the bed, her head throbbing with the effort to not hollowly parrot what he is pushing her to think.  She clears her throat and then speaks sweetly.  “Of course Turin. What was I thinking to allow such bad behavior?  The bed is for us.  Thank you for being so thoughtful about the pillow.”  Lana hopes she is confusing him.  Part of her plan is to keep him off balance about her surrender; hence the resistance to his mental manipulation and yet the obvious capitulation to his wishes.

 

Lana looks at Daray and points to the pillow.  “Look Daray, a place especially for you.”  Lana tries to put confidence into her voice. She seriously hopes Daray will move to the pillow, even if she does Lana has serious doubt she will stay there if Turin tries to touch her.  Lana then turns away from Daray and proceeds to walk the rest of the distance to Turin.  She reaches up and attempts to wrap her arms around his neck and press her body against his.  “I hope your business went well?”  She leaves it as a question, giving him an opening to discuss it if he wishes or ignore her if he prefers.

 

Even with the mental push from him, Lana can feel a reluctance in her body as she cuddles up to Turin, a sense of something wrong.  A difference from the loving embraces she has shared with Daray.  She ignores it, determined to present herself as willing so that hopefully he will eventually not feel the need to corrupt her mind.

 

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Lana’s touch and calming words seem to work on Daray, her claws settling and the glowing patches fading out. When Lana points to the pillow and tells Daray to get off the bed, she stops growling and looks at her friend for a long moment before hopping off the bed and investigating the pillow with more than a little trepidation. She watches Lana move toward Turin, and follows her closely, forgetting about the pillow completely.

 

Turin accepts Lana’s embrace, the pressure on her mind letting up a little as she speaks to him. His face is difficult to read, but it seems as though he is having trouble predicting, or even understanding her reactions.

 

“Business went well, all things considered.” He casts a disparaging glance down at Daray, who is looking up at him with a bestial scowl on her face and pressing herself against Lana’s leg defensively. He narrows his eyes at her for a moment, and she shrinks back for a heartbeat, but stays in contact with Lana and flexes her claws against the floor with a snarl.

 

“We need to pack the household up Lana. we’ll be returning to Tranquility this evening, after dinner. I know you haven’t been here long, but if you could help get our girls ready to go, that would be very helpful. I need to see to the disposition of communications and our body-guards. Once we’re back in our estate on The Moon, we will have more time and can work on getting to know one-another better.”

 

He holds her out at arm’s length then leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead, which evokes another growl from Daray, who starts to push her way between the pair, trying to force Lana to back away from Turin, who gives her a sour look before releasing her and taking a step back. “Ask any of our girls, and they will show you where their quarters are, and what they wear when we are moving.”

 

Taking a few steps toward the door, he looks back at them and pushes with his thoughts again as he adds, “You know I would never hurt you Lana, there is no reason for your pet to act like that.” 

 

In her mind the words go on, adding that, in the past, when animals acted with hostility toward new family members, they were put down. You don’t want your pet to come between us do you? You don’t want your pet to be a problem. Maybe destroying the animal is something you should think about. You know he won’t want you to, he loves your pet as much as you do, but you don’t want it to hurt him….

 

The thoughts don’t sound quite right, but at the same time, they make sense. Still, there is something tingling at the back of her mind as she thinks them, as if the animal somehow much more important to her than he is, although that couldn’t possibly be the case…

 

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Lana tries to covertly nudge Daray with her foot, to push her away before she causes trouble.  When she refuses to move and then forcibly inserts herself between them Lana realizes this ‘take her time’ plan isn’t going to work.  She nods in agreement with Turin. “Of course I’ll help.  Anything I can do for you is my pleasure.”  She tries to lean into him, to push Daray aside, not wanting him to let go of her.  She attempts to smile at him despite his sour look and she feels such aching disappointment when he lets her go anyways.  

 

She watches him longingly as he steps towards the door.  His words are puzzling, of course he would never hurt her.  She has no idea why Daray is acting so strangely.  She nods as he twists her thoughts to match his own.  Daray can’t be allowed to come between them… destroy… destroy… Her calm accepting expression changes to one of horror.  The filter in her mind does its job, watching for anything that is actually dangerous and that thought finally sets it off.  Lana throws her whole mind into rejecting the alienness of that last thought.  She topples to the floor and presses her hands over her ears, an instinctive reaction despite there being no blockable sound.  Pain erupts in her mind as she fights tooth and claw to barricade his thoughts from her.  She looks up at him with tears streaming down her face.  Slowly she lowers her hands away from her ears before speaking calmly through the pain and her tears  “No, Turin.  I put on your shackles.  I’ve been as willing as you could want.  You have to give me time with her.  She’s the reason I came to you.  I swear to god that if you take her away like that.  If you make me be the one who 'made the decision' I will find a way to do myself harm.”

 

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Turin smiles at her as she looks up at him from the floor. “Lana, I would never allow you to harm yourself.” His words are a simple statement of fact, but somehow they still manage to sound very much like a threat. He makes no move to help her, or do much of anything else, and when Daray scrambles back between them and growls at him, claws scratching at the floor and forearms glowing brightly, he actually takes a step back.

 

“Still, if you don’t get her under control soon, and I mean very controlled, I will find a way to kill her. Permanently. No amount of genetic tinkering will allow her to come back from the pit I’ll sink her into. I told you I would let her go, and I have. She is my gift to you, in exchange for your loyalty to me. If she breaks that loyalty, it will be the same as you doing so. And if that happens, I will melt your frontal lobes and turn you into one of them.” He points out the open door at one of the servant women standing silently, waiting for a chance to serve.

 

“Now, I expect them all to be ready to go by seven this evening. You can pack whatever you wish from here, but the estate in Tranquility is fully stocked. The trip will be around three days.” He turns toward the door and takes a few steps before turning back around again and adds, “and if she continues to cause damage around the house, I will haver her strapped down and raped every hour, on the hour, for a week straight.”

 

The rage emanating from him is frightening, and it only seems to be making Daray angrier. Her claws are digging into the stone floor and she is making tiny movements toward him with her legs tucked up beneath her, ready to leap at him.


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