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ExotikTwilight
Supernova
- Joined
- Nov 15, 2019
It was a common misconception, one intentionally propagated by the government, that those on death row were going through an appeals process. In the past it had been the case, a mandated and lengthy set of appeals covering anything from procedural issues in the court, calling issue witnesses or evidence into account, or however many other things. Not so much now, in this gritty cyberpunk future. Freedoms and rights were as real as virtual world simulators. A convincing illusion that got turned off when required. No, if you were alive on death row it meant you were too valuable to someone to get snuffed immediately.
Either you had information or skills you were looking to trade or barter. And so it became a sort of dance of words between the condemned and the condemner. Between one in a cage that feared the leash, and one that would not uncage them without putting them on a leash. Ripley Reeves cared little for the nuances of that. Sure, she would have to engage in that dance a little today, but it was to a different tune. Here, the government was willing to hand off one of the inmates to her, provided she kept him under control. And the woman like to keep her toys on very short leashes. A mercenary, she was in need of someone smaller, who could infiltrate and hack...and, if they could take a bit of punishment and like it, that would be a bonus. Her last boytoy and hacker had broken the month before, hopped up on stims and virtual reality augments that his unaugmented body could no longer handle. This time, Ripley wouldn't make that selection error.
She followed a few steps behind her security guard escort, the visit and paperwork having been arranged several days prior. There was only one inmate here that met her criteria.
When asked how she would like to receive him, her response was however he'd like. She even included a naked photo of herself, with her lounging on a cushion, one arm slung under her breasts and her other hand spreading her pussy lips open with her fingers. There would be no mistaking, though, her musculature and the augmented body she had. It was a playful, but dominant, message. So, Ripley was curious how the femboy wanted to 'present himself', though likely constrainted and within reason and limited by the maximum security prison staff. Her own attire was rather plain. Of course she had to leave her weapons behind, as well as armor, but her body itself was enough to cause issues for anyone unaugmented if she had wanted. Tan, close fitting cargo pants with a matching tank top, something that clung to her skin, and a sterotypical plain opened vest in camouflage colors. 'Mercenary casual', if that was ever a thing.
Either you had information or skills you were looking to trade or barter. And so it became a sort of dance of words between the condemned and the condemner. Between one in a cage that feared the leash, and one that would not uncage them without putting them on a leash. Ripley Reeves cared little for the nuances of that. Sure, she would have to engage in that dance a little today, but it was to a different tune. Here, the government was willing to hand off one of the inmates to her, provided she kept him under control. And the woman like to keep her toys on very short leashes. A mercenary, she was in need of someone smaller, who could infiltrate and hack...and, if they could take a bit of punishment and like it, that would be a bonus. Her last boytoy and hacker had broken the month before, hopped up on stims and virtual reality augments that his unaugmented body could no longer handle. This time, Ripley wouldn't make that selection error.
She followed a few steps behind her security guard escort, the visit and paperwork having been arranged several days prior. There was only one inmate here that met her criteria.
When asked how she would like to receive him, her response was however he'd like. She even included a naked photo of herself, with her lounging on a cushion, one arm slung under her breasts and her other hand spreading her pussy lips open with her fingers. There would be no mistaking, though, her musculature and the augmented body she had. It was a playful, but dominant, message. So, Ripley was curious how the femboy wanted to 'present himself', though likely constrainted and within reason and limited by the maximum security prison staff. Her own attire was rather plain. Of course she had to leave her weapons behind, as well as armor, but her body itself was enough to cause issues for anyone unaugmented if she had wanted. Tan, close fitting cargo pants with a matching tank top, something that clung to her skin, and a sterotypical plain opened vest in camouflage colors. 'Mercenary casual', if that was ever a thing.