The Maccat

"It seems to me," Willa said, "that the logical way for you to salvage the situation would be for you to marry me."

The Avenue was having one of its rainy days. The gods (i.e., the designers of the island that the Avenue occupied) in their wisdom had decreed that rain should occur randomly and with seasonal variation. The residents generally agreed this had been a bad idea, especially since the forecasting software had proven to be unreliable. The maintainers, whose job it was to fix the system, insisted that the control room could not be accessed because of the maccat.

Willa and I shared an umbrella as we strolled through the artisan sector. She had invited me to join her for a walk in town, and had laughed when I brought the umbrella with me. "There's no rain scheduled," she'd said.

"It rains every time I'm in town," I replied. Ten minutes later the heavens opened and we were both glad of the umbrella. "See," I said. "I blame the maccat."

"What is this maccat people keep talking about?" Willa demanded.

I laughed. "One theory is that it's an escaped pet - an alien pet, with huge claws and a taste for human blood. It mistook the control room for a safe underground cave to hide in, and someone had the clever idea to lock it in there."

"That's absurd," Willa said.

"The other theory is that it's a made-up creature invented by the engineers to avoid having to fix the weather system."

"That does sound more likely."

"Either way, the maccat has become a local legend. Look there." I pointed to a shop selling cuddly toy maccats in a variety of sizes and colours but always with big, friendly eyes and fearsome claws.

Willa laughed. "He's cute. Wait here." Two minutes later, she presented me with a very expensive but utterly adorable maccat, and I didn't have the heart to refuse.

The conversation had turned eventually to the cruel trick played on my father. "We wouldn't need to salvage anything if it weren't for you," I pointed out.

"I was just looking after my interests," she said lightly. "Kell Island will be mine so long as your father does not find a suitable mate."

"Such as Emerald Grey," I supplied.

"Exactly. You can hardly blame me."

"Of course I can blame you - although I'm grateful too. I would not like Emerald for a stepmother."

"I hear she has a collection of whips," Willa said musingly.

"I don't doubt it," I said with a shiver.

The rain was persisting. We found a café to hide in and ordered tea and scones. "I would never whip you," Willa said sincerely, only to add with a wink, "unless you're into that sort of thing." It wasn't quite a question.

I enjoyed her flirtatious way, and it was difficult not to feel a little dazzled by her beauty and her self-confidence, but ultimately she was an Elliott, and I had absolutely no intention of ever marrying an Elliott. I stared out the window at the rain. "If this keeps up, I'm getting a taxi home."

"No, don't," she said quickly. "I wanted you to watch us rehearse. My friend has written a play and I have a starring role..."

"I didn't know you were an actress," I said, though she certainly had the face for it.

"Oh, yes. Although I haven't had a big break yet. You'll love the play, though. It's about two sisters - identical twins - and they're on a spaceship that's attacked during the war. They get separated, end up in different escape pods, and each thinks the other is dead, and one of them ends up in a love triangle and it's hilarious. I play a princess - trans like me - who falls in love with one of the sisters, but the sister's in love with the prince who's in love with me. It's full of incest and fucking."

"I think I've seen this play before," I said.

"Impossible. This is the very first performance!"

I reached for the words: "

And let the babbling gossip of the air cry out Olivia!

"

She looked at me like I was mad. "I have no idea what you just said."

"Old English, from a thousand years ago," I said.

"Oh." She shrugged, and dismissed it from her thoughts.

It made me sad suddenly. Freya would have understood - maybe not the words themselves, but why they mattered to me. I wondered how Lucy and Freya were getting on. The last I'd heard from Mara was that Lucy was still on Cox Island, having gone there in pursuit of Freya, and I didn't doubt she would succeed. "Actually," Mara had added. "We're planning a family trip to Cox. Helen wants to go to college there, and it will give us a chance to check up on Lucy too."

Cox Island being relatively close to the Avenue, it would be easy for me to visit. I often thought of going to Cox Island, ostensibly to visit Lucy, but in truth to see Freya again. The last time I had seen her, she had been in clear distress over Lucy's accident, and it still hurt my heart to think of that.

"Anyway," Willa said, "the dress rehearsal starts in twenty minutes, and I know you'll enjoy it. Please say you'll come - I know I will." She laughed at this witticism.

"I will," I said. "As long as it's indoors."

"It is." She smiled happily, and before I could react she kissed me on the lips. A brief kiss, but a lover's kiss. It set my heart racing, even as I pushed her away firmly. "I'll get us a taxi," she said, and left me to gather my wits before following her.

I was not at all prepared for the sight of a rather drenched Freya rushing into the café. Nor, clearly, was Freya prepared for the sight of me carrying a maccat. "Hi," I said eventually.

"Ana," she said.

"How are you? Is Lucy here?" I looked outside, half expecting to see Lucy rushing through the rain towards the door. I saw only Willa there.

"Good," Freya said. "Good. Lucy too." She really was a comical sight, her hair and jacket soaked and dripping onto the wooden floor. "I see it's still always raining when you're here."

I laughed. "I blame the maccat," I said, and growled at the one in my arms.

Freya smiled suddenly, but the smile faded abruptly as Willa strode in from outside. "Taxi's here, Ana," she said. "Let's go. Hurry!"

I allowed myself to be pulled away, away from Freya, aware of how it must look to her that Willa was guiding me from the café, holding the umbrella to keep me dry, taking me away in a taxi with a stupid maccat in my arms. Freya should be the one doing all that, not Willa. But that was just a fantasy. I was the one who broke Freya's heart and pushed her away. I had no claim on her anymore.

*

Playing the role of the princess's loyal maid was none other than Smina, my best friend from college. My friendship with her had cooled significantly in the wake of the incident that had led to my rescue by Freya, and I had lost track of her over the years. Her role was mostly comic relief. She spent the majority of the play being pursued by a fat man with a thick cock, a skinny man in yellow stockings, and a man who sang songs of lechery while masturbating constantly. Any time she bent over - and plenty of reasons were found - she could be sure to find herself accosted from behind.

All of which was just an entertaining distraction from main plot, in which one of the surviving twins becomes the prince's masseuse and confidant, and is then sent to seduce the prince's sister into an incestuous engagement. But the princess falls in love with the masseuse, and the masseuse is in love with the prince, and both royal cocks end up very well oiled indeed. And when the other twin sister appears out of nowhere, it becomes impossible to keep track of who exactly is fucking whom.

Willa certainly made for a beautiful princess, and a very well endowed one too. The sex was very restrained, being a tease for the most part, and an orgy at the end. My mind was too full of thoughts of Freya for me to properly enjoy Willa's dramatic prowess, but I did feel at the end that Shakespeare would not entirely disapprove.

I met up with Smina the following day for lunch. "I married a lieutenant," she said. "Siara. I loved her, and not just because she could make me come a dozen times a night. But she died. We'd only been married three months, and she'd been away for two of those. I fell apart after that. I lost everything."

"I wish you'd told me," I said.

Smina shrugged. "I came to the Avenue, worked as a maid for a while, then a waitress. Gradually got into sex work, and actually that's something I can do well. You should get your father to hire me for one of his parties. I enjoy role-play and I'm famous for my squirting."

She smiled a little sadly. "It's not the life I imagined for myself, but it's not without its pleasures. And it got me into the play - what do you think of it?"

"It's a dreadful rip-off," I said, with a wry grin.

Smina laughed. "Indeed, but I would sooner act in the rip-off than endure watching the original. All that '

If music be the food of love

' nonsense... You were always much better at languages than I."

She was right, and that proved to be something of a curse. That evening was the premiere, the first performance of 'The Royal Comedy', as it was called. My father and sister insisted on being there, along with a significant slice of the Avenue's wealthy elite. The audience gathered in the theatre's cocktail lounge for pre-performance drinks and gossip.

"Miss Elliott," said a voice from behind me. An intimately familiar voice. I whirled around to see Freya in full dress uniform.

"Ana!" my sister hissed. My sudden stop had caused her to spill her drink - fortunately not onto anyone's clothes. My father was staring curiously at Freya.

"Father," I said. "Eliza. This is Captain Winter, a war hero. Her sister-in-law is Admiral Corossa who is renting Kell House."

"Ah!" my father exclaimed with what looked like genuine pleasure. "Have you had the chance to see Kell Island? We miss it deeply of course. It is by far the best Island on all O-Stred."

I waited impatiently for the conversation to run its course, and searched the crowd around us for a glimpse of Lucy or of others in naval uniform, but it seemed that Freya was alone. Eliza, impatient herself to be elsewhere, urged Father with unsubtle nudging, and finally I was left alone with Freya.

She was dark and intense, entirely at odds with the shallow confectionery of the Avenue's elite. She had always been intense, but the war had left its mark on her. She had spent years flying between the stars from one battle to another, and no doubt had seen more death than anyone should, while I had played the piano and generally felt sorry for myself.

"No rain today," she said.

"Not yet," I said. "But I brought my umbrella. That maccat's a mischievous creature."

Why were we talking about the weather?

"Will you come to the wedding?" she asked.

Wedding? What wedding?

Before I could ask, Willa was beside me, taking my hand. "Come," she insisted. "Emerald Grey is demanding to see you." For the second time in two days I allowed Willa to pull me away from my true love. I glanced back at her, wishing she could capture my other hand and pull me away with her instead, but saw only a lonely figure tense with frustration.

What wedding?

"Emerald insists that she knows the story of this play," Willa was saying. "She claims she has found the original, but the language is so old that half the words mean nothing at all, and half the rest mean the wrong thing entirely. I told her that you could translate for her."

Which is how I ended up spending the evening in whispered conversation with Emerald Grey, translating Shakespeare while watching Willa get teased and edged by a pretty masseuse.

"The Prince loves you, Highness," the masseuse pleaded as her hands worked Willa's huge cock with a steady rhythm.

"He only thinks he loves me," Willa replied. "Let us not talk of him. Tell me of yourself. What planet were you born on, for I know it was not mine. The women here are not so fair as you."

"I was born beneath a cold sun, Highness, and my heart is ice. But the Prince has all the passion of a hot sun, and his lips would surely make you burn."

"I too have the passion of a hot sun, and would sooner thaw your icy heart than submit to my brother's lust. See how hard my cock is now! It is thinking of you that makes it so..."

I was thinking of Freya, but when at last it was the interval, I could not find her anywhere.

*

There was a message at home from Mara: "Will be on the Avenue tomorrow. Shopping for Lucy's wedding. Will you join us?"

Lucy's wedding. To Freya?

I don't think I slept even half an hour that night.

*

We made a party of five: Helen and Lucy; their mother, Mrs Musk; and Mara and I. Lucy wanted a wedding dress that showed off her steel exospine. "I'll just feel awkward if I try to conceal it, and anyway, Bella loves it."

Lucy was marrying Freya's cousin, Bella Sound. "I did go to Cox Island to confront Freya," she explained, "but my time in hospital gave me a lot of time to think about why I wanted Freya so badly, and I realised that it was mostly her uniform and her futa cock. Bella, of course, has the same uniform now, and very nearly an identical cock, and it was Bella that I lost my virginity to."

She spun around, showing us the dress she'd chosen. It left her back bare to show off the polished exospine, which indeed looked very sexy. "When Freya told me she didn't want anything more than friendship, I was actually a little relieved. I hooked up with Bella afterwards, and I'm more in love every day."

What that meant for Freya and me, I had no idea. As profoundly relieved as I was, for purely selfish reasons, that Freya was not marrying Lucy, I had not forgotten Freya's contempt for me that I'd overheard on a hilltop. "She may seem nice and is always polite," Freya had said, "but you see how she always keeps herself apart and never joins in the evening pleasures, as if she thinks herself morally superior to us."

In the afternoon, we all gathered together in the bar of the hotel where they were all staying. Lucy and Bella were at the centre of the crowd, full of excitement over the wedding plans. It was noticeable just how much Lucy had matured in the space of a few weeks, and indeed how much happier Bella seemed.

It was all too much happiness for me to endure, and I kept to the side and tried not to stare at Freya. She and Sierra Heart were studying schematics of some new warship - a cruel reminder that while we were buying dresses and watching plays, out amongst the stars a war still raged.

Calliope sat next to me. "It has been good to get away from the war for a while. We gained the advantage, and lost a lot of ships to do so, but new ships are being built and will need captains very soon."

I nodded sombrely. I did not like the idea of losing Freya again, even as I understood the necessity. "Tell me, Calliope," I said. "Do futanari love as women do? Or are they like men, ruled by their cocks and thinking only of their own immediate desires that change from day to day?"

Calliope chuckled. "I think that's a little unfair to men."

"Perhaps," I said.

*

Later, after much drinking and dining and dancing, I received a message on my phone from Freya.

Ana.

It seems we are always to be interrupted, and when I have the chance to speak the words elude me. But this I must say: the futanari heart is as true in love as any other's. When you broke my heart eight years ago, I was of course bitter. I saw you as an entitled woman who had allowed herself a brief affair with a futa, before discarding me. For years I nursed a terrible anger towards all women, believing them incapable of true love, and I was cold to any relationship.

Being in your company again has shown me that all my anger and resentment is a trick of the heart. I chose to see the worst in you, believing you had tossed me aside and made a lie of the love we once shared - but then I learned of your chastity belt, and understood at last. The truth, Ana, is that I love you still, and I dare to hope that you love me too. If I am wrong in this, you need say nothing. Duty calls, and I will soon be far away.

Love, Freya

I burst into tears while reading it, and had to clear my eyes several times. Mara, peering over my shoulder at the screen, exclaimed, "Hah! I knew it! Go get her, you idiot."

Freya was not there, however. I searched frantically, and found her outside at last. We stared at each other, hope warring with fear, and then I was in her arms, kissing her, and laughing through my tears.

And of course that was when it started to rain. "That fucking maccat," I growled, and we both laughed.

*

We had a triple wedding in the grounds of Kell House with hundreds of guests, and tables laid with every food imaginable. The weather, of course, was perfect, and dozens of sex workers were employed specially to keep all the guests entertained when they weren't exploring the grounds in love buggies. Smina, dressed as a robot, claimed to have sprung a leak, and despite people's attempts to fix it, the leak kept getting worse.

Mrs Clay had wound Eliza in rope and bound her to a tree, giving her no choice but to watch in silence, and my father had quite forgotten any objections he might once have had to my marrying Freya. I chose to continue wearing my chastity belt, in part because of the sense of connection it gave me to my mother.

Lucy and Bella were first, then Helen and Hayden, and finally me and Freya. Freya and Bella were in uniform, and Hayden (and Charlie, his best man) were in spinball outfits. Like Lucy, Helen and I wore traditional white. My only jewellery was a necklace, the pendant being the key device to my chastity belt, given to me before the ceremony by Rosa.

Freya gave me a gold and diamond ring to wear ("With this ring, I thee wed, &.") and I gave her the necklace ("My pussy is yours and only yours..."). As I kissed Freya, my wife at last, I overheard Willa say to Emerald, "Quick, you make a distraction. I'll steal the key." I glowered at her, and everyone laughed.

"I leave tomorrow," Freya said once we were alone at last, "and don't know when I will be back. I wish you could come with me, but I would prefer that you are here and safe."

"I've signed up at the naval academy," I confessed, "to be a field medic. The training will last a year, and then I'll be out in space. Maybe even with you."

"Then I have a year to finish this damn war," she said. "You don't need to see the things I've seen."

"Enough talk of war. We have tonight, and I don't want to be a virgin still when you fly away tomorrow."

Freya grinned and used the key to unlock my belt. "I love knowing that you've spent the last eight years with your pussy kept safe for me. Look at you! I don't think I've ever seen a pussy so deliciously wet."

I sighed melodramatically. "What's the point of having that futa cock if you don't want to use it."

"Oh, I'm going to use it," she laughed, and took her position between my legs. Just the touch of her cock against my long neglected pussy was almost enough to make me come - and then she was inside me, with none of the pain I had anticipated, and I did come, clutching her tightly in my arms as I convulsed, her cock stretching me exquisitely. "Hey," she said, laughing again. "Wait for me."

I tried to wait, but her cock was doing amazing things to me. I barely recovered from one climax before being pushed into another. "Fuck," I kept whispering. "Fuck!" And when at long last Freya finished too, her cum bursting out of her glorious cock against the entrance to my womb, I screamed with the greatest pleasure I had ever known.

"I love you, Freya," I said, holding her tight as if I could keep her with me forever.

"I'm not finished yet, beloved. I'm going to lick your pussy clean while I fuck your throat, and the only question is: Do you want to be on top?"

Grinning, I said, "Yes, please."