Chasing Cerise

Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2010

This story takes place in a futuristic urban setting with many similarities to our own world but is definitely not.

A Vevaphon is a human-made creature, developed first as a flexible sex toy. As the design grew more advanced, it became highly valued for its chameleon and shapeshifting talents and used for law enforcement and assassination. Credit for the name and idea goes to Dave Allsop who owns the RPG where it is found: "SLA Industries."

In this story, I just wanted to explore how this thing might actually work in the way the game creators originally claimed, but never explained themselves. ;)

I hope you enjoy.

*****

Chase answered on the second ring, taking a moment to ID the call and then fitting the handset where he could speak. Someone mumbled and muttered in the background as she listened for his greeting, and it sounded like that one was fighting very hard for air.

"Hi, Cerise!" the Vevaphon said happily. "How is life in the Operative World?"

"Hello, Chase," she replied. "The usual, I think."

"Shit, I'm so...so sorry."

"I'm not. It always was my excuse for actually calling the numbers on these business cards that folks hand me."

Her grin could be heard through the phone as she tucked Chase's own business card back into her zipper pouch, fairly fat with others. Once upon a time, she'd stuffed them in the little slots within her wallet, one behind the other, not wanting to enter them as actual contacts into her hand-held Oyster. However, her wallet could no longer hold the random contacts that may or may not ever become useful. Now a distinguished, brown leather pouch now kept them neatly available.

Chase's particular card had sort of "floated to the top" tonight, for she was hoping he would be quite useful without her having to leave her apartment.

"It's been nose-to-grind all week and I need a break," she said.

Whoever was in the background emitted a frustrated and scared-sounding trumpeter noise, as if he'd tried to burst free of a stubborn hold but failed.

"Though it does sound like you're _wrestling_ a bit with your time as well," she added, idly wondering who was attached to his other tentacle.

Chase laughed with a touch of glee at the sign that she wanted to play, not sounding distracted. "Nah, just _tying up_ some loose ends," he said.

"No doubt. Well, I'm in a good mood tonight. I can even say I'm in the mood for a good chase!"

She chuckled, but with an inward groan at repeating his own previous bad pun back at him in order to flirt. At least it was something she could know for sure he would understand, since she was sort of winging this. "So might you be up to giving me one?"

"Mmm," he purred, a sound not unlike a woodwind as the free-shifting flesh vibrated in whatever construct he was using as a throat at the moment. "I would love to. Where do we meet?"

Her stomach fluttered a little bit. Well, that was easy. "I'd like you to come to my place, if that's alright."

"It's not in a bad section of town, is it?" he asked with mock aghast. "I'm very careful about such things!"

Right, she thought. As if Chase wouldn't welcome the opportunity to terrify a moronic mugger.

After a bare pause on her end, he continued, "No, no, really, I'd like that. I know where your place is. Nice digs, by the way."

She paused. "Mm...I take it you might've been inside with Lynn on one of her little drop-ins?"

"Yeppers," he replied, oblivious to her tone, just as that person still in the background gagged loudly as if their mouth was filled with Flabby-Foam. "Standard procedure. She says you need a security upgrade, by the way."

Cerise suppressed the eye roll and any irritation at Cloak entering her home while she wasn't there. Lynn was only trying to protect her friend from further attacks and Chase was a bodyguard, among other things. "Tell Lynn the guy's due early next week. Anyway, how long before you'll be able to drop by?"

"I can be there in," he began and thought aloud. "...hmm, this will take nine minutes and thirty seconds to complete, traffic is forty-five to fifty-nine minutes this time of day per 899 metrics but your location is only seventy-eight percent so...I will arrive within forty-three minutes."

Cerise started chuckling audibly about halfway through his calculations.

"What?" the Vev asked, sounding like he was smiling. "Why are you laughing?"

"Your matrix is showing," she teased. "Now I'll have to time you, just to see if Chaos Theory fucks up your estimate. But it's enough time for me to shower and get ready. Is there anything I should have available for you to eat?"

"Yes," he said with that woodwind purr again. "You."

She laughed. "That's a given. Anything else? I know you Stormers eat a lot. Wouldn't want you to become fatigued too soon."

"You should be more concerned about yourself," he said. "You know what they say -- once you go Vat, you never got back!" Chase made a snorting sound as Cerise groaned very loudly on the other end. "Yes, that is as bad as when I heard it..."

"Yeah, it is. Except that I've always gone back. And around, and sideways. I like widening my dating pool."

"Ohh, I do admire flexibility in organics."

"One of my better qualities."

"I can't wait to explore how flexible you are." He whistled softly, but it didn't sound so much like it had come from lips as air pressed through several smaller openings of different sizes. It resulted in a neat harmony effect that pleased Cerise's ears. "Thank you for the offer but I'll bring my own sustenance. I'm also good for about six hours as it is."

"Great. Looking forward to it."

"Fuck, Chase, will you get off the damned phone and hold the son of a bitch!" a woman snarled on the other end and Cerise realized with a start that it was Meg, his field partner.

"Okay, okay," he said, then muttered into the phone, "All work and no play makes a woman who desperately needs of a good fuck, even more desperate for a good fuck..."

Cerise bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, holding in the guffaw. She might agree but she wasn't going to be the one to say so. It wasn't in her hazard pay.

"What did you just say?" Meg demanded. "Fuck it...OW...son of a bitch!"

"'Scuse me, but we've got a situation I need to deal with. Taste you soon," he said. "Come on, you call that a knife—?"

He disconnected and, while genuinely hoping Meg wasn't hurt too badly, Cerise couldn't help chuckling a bit more. Only Chase would set up a booty call with his headset while apprehending his fugitive.

^^^^^^

Thirty minutes later, Cerise was refreshed and charged with energy, straightening and picking up a few things that her roommate Camran had left around the living room and tossing them into his bedroom. If she wanted Chase to chase her (and she did) then she wanted all foot-bruising obstacles to be out of the way ahead of time.

Cerise wasn't wearing shoes; she was barefoot and her toe nails are clear and unpainted because she didn't figure fresh polish might taste very good if the Vev wanted to suck on her toes. She wore a pair of very comfortable, powder blue pajama bottoms, slung lower on her hips and tied with a draw-string. They were just thin and close-fitting enough without being tight that Chase should be able to tell she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

She also wore a deep red tank top, equally comfortable looking, her arms bare and smooth and her short, sunny-blonde hair just finishing its post-shower fluff as it dried. She wore no make-up, and her skin was clear and unpowdered. She looked like she was ready for a work-out and was clean enough to eat off.

Both of those were distinct possibilities.

She felt curiosity and anticipation, like looking forward to a new vacation site, determined to make the most of it and have a good time. She was nervous, too, however, since this would be her first Vevaphon. Arguably it would be quite different from anything she'd experienced before, and her understanding was that Chase was one of the more advanced versions, 2.7 or something. He had far more personality and greater troubleshooting skills than the average, vat-grown doppleganger.

Why she was opting for Chase instead of a human tonight? Well... that was a duality she didn't want to over-analyze too much but she knew basically why. She had a stalker who'd recently attacked her, and she hadn't wanted to go out tonight with Camran, but yet she didn't want to be alone. Her murder case had been really high-pressure lately and this was her first night off in a while and she really needed stress relief. However she didn't want to keep relying on Thom when he was far busier than she was, and that was saying something. No way he'd be able to just drop everything and come to her place for a good fuck (much as he might like to) just because she was feeling tense and alone and...horny.

Plus Chase would have no expectations afterward. He was designed to be a bloodhound, a mimic...and a pleasure tool. Interaction with him would be simpler, she hoped, than it was with other humans. It was meant to be.

She just didn't want to deal with people tonight.

The apartment phone rang and when she picked up she could hear the lisp of sound that always preceded a 313 Stormer talking, as they constantly slobbered and had to draw some of the moisture from their jaws to talk without spraying.

"Oper'tive Fiske...uh... Cerise?"

"Yes, Clint?"

"An Agent Vevaphon is here tah interruhgate you. ID says Chase. Iz dat a joke?"

"Mm, no, I believe that's his name," she answered. "Please allow the Agent to come to my door, Clint, I am expecting him."

"'Kay, Ahl let'im in," the 313 said and disconnected.

A couple minutes later, the elevator door pinged. Hearing it, Cerise decided to open the door and watch Chase approach. The blonde woman peeked out the peephole first then cracked the door with chain still in place, looking in the direction opposite the elevator first (just in case) before looking at the Vevaphon.

Chase was wearing a charcoal grey suit, blue shirt, and grey and black tie. His "hair" was black today, and it looked as real as it usually did considering that he favored wigs made of the real stuff. He could shift to create his own if he wanted, but she knew from looking at other Vevs that it looked more like really thin whips of licorice when they did that. It made it harder to pass for human.

He smiled warmly at her and his face was perfect and sculpted; he looked very much like a young, slim, well-proportioned Caucasian man at the moment, although his eyes were the one thing not quite right about his shifter's face. They held a flatter quality as though the blue color of his irises had no depth. As he approached the door, he made almost no sound, and she could see he was carrying a bottle of wine and a dark blue, very laden satchel.

She looked curiously at the satchel but then smiled at him. "Hello. You look good. Did you change outfits?"

Chase nodded. "Yes, I also washed," he said. "Too much blood and gunk, and unfortunately cordite really can ruin a mood. Mmmm. You smell tasty, though."

Cerise smiled at the mixed sense, even though she did know it was accurate for his perception. Smelling and tasting were pretty much the same thing, because he didn't have specific olfactory cells. But it still sounded weird. "Mm. Thank you, come in."

As he did, she added, "Did the fugitive fight that much, then?"

Chase shrugged, which looked a little odd in that it was more a roll of flesh than it was a lifting of bone. "He assaulted a Cloak Agent, instant subversion, and was not wanted for questioning."

Cerise nodded without needing to ask more. The man was dead, then. Maybe she shouldn't have asked...

She had closed the door and nearly locked it but then stopped herself when she reconsidered. She left it unlocked.

The Vevaphon was still smiling, it hadn't changed much even during the morbid topic. He held out the bottle, then, shifting to his new topic without transition. "I brought you something you might like...it's Chantie du Fronde. I don't know if it's good but the shop said it was."

"Aw, you didn't have to," she said, and looked curiously at the wine label as she accepted it. "Hey, Chase...how does alcohol affect you? Or does it?"

He was looking around the apartment as if gathering data but answered her question. "I can drink wine and I even enjoy the taste. It warms me but has a reduced effect. I'm hard to get drunk because of my high metabolism. Ah, but also," he said, opening the satchel. "I brought these for you."

One by one he handed her several jars of lubricant, scented powder, chocolate syrup, a feather, a blindfold, and chocolate candy treats. Her mouth hanging open a bit, Cerise took each item as he held them out, but when her hands started getting full at the third jar of lubricant (*Holy shit, does he mean to run through all of them?*), she passed them off to the coffee table.

She was grinning broadly despite herself. Chase had no subtlety whatsoever, but this did help give her an idea what programming he was running as his default. Since he didn't really know her preferences (yet), that default seemed to be "pamper the woman with romantic clichés."

In fact, even referring to Chase as a male was only in that he defaulted to male forms more often than not; he wasn't at all restricted by the pronoun, though. More accurately, the Stormer would be an "it" without any functioning genitals.

"Running down the list for the 'romantic evening' formula, hm?" She eyeballed the items. "What's the scented powder for?"

Sure, she knew a lot of women liked to cover up the scent of their own sweat, applying it after a shower to keep her smoother for longer, but in doing so she thought she would make her skin rather weird to lick.

As a biogenic shapeshifter grown from a production vat, Chase tasted and smelled and touched everything just from surface contact. His entire mass, head to toe (and that was using the phrase loosely) had sensory signals she could barely comprehend.

In all honesty, it was why she'd included an enema in her shower and prep work. She very much wanted to try double penetration with him at some point, but had felt a touch self-conscious over what the Vev might "taste" while going deeper than any human tongue could go.

So did he enjoy the taste of the powder or something?

He grinned wider, almost too wide for a human face. "It's called 'Sinn-a-man and Spice,' something I picked up from a nice little place called 'The Dungeon.' It makes things tastier."

"Ah. I've been there, I think. Hm. So is the powder for me or for you?"

"Well, my taste can be odd to the uninitiated so...it's for either of us," he said. "Though I imagine I'll like your taste just fine."

Cerise smiled in acknowledgement. "Okay, but I'd at least like to try you au natural before I sprinkle you in cinnamon."

Chase's eyes roamed over her face and in the light, they appeared closer to gems with a black spot in the middle than actual eyes. "Your heat flow is enticing," he said suddenly.

That was sort of odd. "Hm? My what?"

"Heat flow. Patterns over your skin. Particularly...here." He moved a little closer, tilting his head a bit, his mouth opening slightly.

Cerise swallowed as she realized where he was aiming. Like with some of the other races in the City...you had to decide whether to show them your throat or not.

It was fairly easy in this case; she knew perfectly well Chase could wipe the floor with her if she were ever on the wrong side of SLA law with him. From a physical aptitude stand point, he had the superior techniques and flexibility by an order of magnitude. He couldn't receive broken bones or strained muscles and even bullets punched holes in him that were closed again pretty quickly.

She tilted her head somewhat as he leaned forward to cup his "mouth" at her throat near her jugular, nipping and sucking at the same time. The touch slid upwards and he gave the skin beneath her ear the same attention.

*Oh, holy shit.* Chase's contact was not quite the right temperature, a bit cooler than human lips, but the movement against her skin was every bit as versatile and inquisitive as real lips, maybe more so. Certainly it had potential. Goosebumps started to break out on her bare shoulders.

"Mmmm, you taste wonderful," he hummed. "Your scent...your sweat, your breath. Mmm...this is good."

"Glad you like," she breathed, her pulse jumping a bit and blinking at the touch that most certainly felt...good. Different, but good.

She felt another wash of heat rise to her face. It had been a long time since she hadn't known exactly to expect from a new partner. As it had in the past, the newness and unpredictability of it excited her on a deep level. But she also realized she had to fight more with her fear and her survival instincts now than she had been a younger, cockier Operative graduate. She was still open to new experiences, yes, but with a few harsh events which had stripped away the clueless naivety of before.

She knew exactly how dangerous a Vevaphon could be, what Chase and the others were designed to do. Yet she was inviting him to get to know her extremely well tonight, inside and out. *At least I'm on the "approved" list.*

He caressed her a bit longer, focusing on the soft parts where blood vessels were accessible and the sensitivity was high. He understood human physiology well, but then, he had to. It made him a more efficient and terrifying hunter and executioner.

She shifted her thoughts from going farther down that path, instead considering carefully how many differences there were going to be in their physiologies? If he was doing this to her, mouthing her...would doing the same to him be welcomed?

She didn't really know; Chase could turn into a completely featureless blob if he wanted to; "head" and "hands" and "legs" didn't really mean anything to him in particular. He wasn't that limited. He could change their location at will and he certainly didn't have any organs or bones that had to stay put.

"Okay, um, I need to ask, Chase...does my using tongue and lips on you feel good? And does it matter where?" Her face flushed a bit as she smiled. "I mean...I know you can form a phallus shape to penetrate me, which is what I want since I've got a bunch of nerves concentrated in one area. But... say I was to suck on that phallus instead. Would it feel like anything? You wouldn't have a concentrated bundle of nerves there...or would you?"

He stopped what he was doing to look at her, not appearing irritated or impatient at the interruption but instead perhaps enjoying answering the questions. "I can relocate nerve bundles to wherever you are touching," he said. "So yes, you can make me feel very good if you try."

"Very adaptable," Cerise said.

Chase looked encouraged and volunteered, "My metabolism and physiology is also such that I'm anti-bacterial and cannot transmit STDs. So no need for any sort of prophylactic, either."

Taken aback for a second, Cerise laughed in surprise. A condom would really be pointless with silly putty anyway, but she guessed the Stormer was just getting to the point. A very different dance from easing into human relations, but that was okay. At least he was going for the good stuff and was being cheerful about it. "Okay, bareback it is, then!"

Her body was already revved up from the anticipation and fantasy in the time before he arrived and she could feel wet warmth and heightened sensitivity at the junction of her legs and something a little hotter coiling in her abdomen. She was becoming more aroused, not knowing what to expect, feeling charged because of it. It was totally new.