Tags: masturbation, mention of cross dressing The layer of filth that had accumulated on Scylla was always to be washed off before a run. When she met her clients, she was always clean skinned, properly dressed, and appropriately stoned. After her shower, she stood before the mirror and pinned up her hair in purposefully lopsided pigtails the pulled the hair that usually hung on her ear down to cover the left side of her face. She gave some thought to the colors in her hair, and it changed appropriately. Largely segmented colors, green, orange, a classic brunette and some deep purple on the hair that covered her left eye. Under her uncovered eye laid her permanent pixelation tattoo. It was merely a small palette of many different skin tones that looked like a small pixelated piece of flesh. She pulled on her socks before anything else. They weren’t just mismatching, they were practically opposites. One sock came up to her mid thigh and had heavy, thick stripes with a dull green and pink alternating up her leg. The other barely came up her her knee and had a yellow and blue swirling pattern. Next came her panties, her lucky ones. Scylla always wore the same pair whenever she went on a run. They were a pale yellow with a cartoon bear plastered on the front. Her hips wiggled with delight as she recalled all the fond memories of pulling them on as well as pulling them off. She pulled her cargo shorts on rather quickly. Made of a tattered black polyester, they were long enough to cover the top of her right sock and short enough to expose the top of her left. Before pulling on her orange tank top, she admired her naked body in the mirror. As was tradition of going on a run she looked upon the scars she had acquired and only hoped she got no new ones. Well, at least without too much pain. She traced the long, jagged scar above her breast and smiled at the memory that came afterwards. Finally turning away from the mirror she began pulling on an orange cami. She went to the closet. Only one article of clothing sat in there, perfectly hung on a hanger. This one was special, not tossed to the ground like all her other clothes. Gingerly she pulled the leather jacket from the closet and pressed it to her nose inhaling the scent deeply. It still smelled like him. After all these years, she could smell him still. That smell a mix of gasoline and ash. The jacket was frayed and beaten up but the large patch on the back remained, ‘Light Up the Night’ it read in bold red letters above a picture depicting the city in flames. She pulled on the jacket, it’s sleeves were much too long on her and the jacket itself hung past her hips, but there was no garment she’d rather wear. There was one last step to going on a run. The most important part. Scylla raised her bong to her lips and took her lighter to it. The water bubbled and bubbled, but all she got was a few ashy tasting remnants. “Cached?” she sighed. “Well, there’s always The Little Wyrm.” she fumbled through her many belongings scattered upon the floor until she pulled out a small glass pipe that twisted and turned like some kind of worm. She looked to the bowl and her heart sank. Empty. Falling to her back defeated she crawled to her usual hiding place. A small tin of a long expired candy that she had the good fortune to find in tact. The candy had been eaten, but now there was a new kind of treat in there. Or there would have been if Scylla had any weed left to spare. She let out a horrible groan. There was one thing she needed before a run. One thing. Her clients would have to wait a little while while she got some more. She tossed her mage goggles around her neck, grabbed her keys and headed out the door. There were many cameras in her apartment and Scylla stared down every one. Her hairstyle and pixel tattoo were chosen with the specific purpose of confusing facial recognition software. Every camera had the same dead on dopey smile of Scylla as she walked calmly to the garage. With his smell lingering up from the collar of her jacket Scylla idly played thumbed the singe marks on the cuffs as she thought of him. Specifically, she thought of the first time she met him. It was a strange and magical day for her. ~ The day had begun like any other. Scylla was eating a bowl of SoyreO’s Cereal and catching up on her social networks. For lunch she decided to go visti a favorite food cart. He was also on the same corner as Scylla’s apartment which was a plus. Scylla had always found it easy living as a vegan in the modern day. Every food vendor in this day in age had soy dogs on gluten free white bread. Scylla walked down to see the soy vendor in her usual three day filth. She came out of her apartment building, scratching her greasy hair and holding up her long, blue and red plaid skirt. Without a belt holding it up, the skirt had a tendency to slide off her hips. “Well hello there Scylla,” the vendor said with a grin on his goofy troll face. With a long nose and pointy ears his face looked more like a goblin than a troll. His body didn’t help either, for a troll he wasn’t too muscular. Well, he was, just in a different way. While most trolls built on bulk muscle, this one had a tight and small muscles, causing him to look scrawny beneath baggy clothes. “Hey Mr. Otanashi,” Scylla waved and approached the troll’s cart. Of course she called him mister because, as she found out on her daily visits to his cart, he used to be a teacher. “I take it you’ll want the usual?” he smiled, this time hiding his sharp teeth. “Yes please and thank you.” She bowed to him, her skirt stretched down with her ass as she did, exposing the Bulk brand mint green cotton panties she was wearing. Completely oblivious to exposing herself with this gesture, did came back up with a smile. Catching only a glimpse of her panties and quickly looking away, Mr. Otanashi chose to ignore the slip up, though that didn’t stop the blood from rushing to his face ever so slightly. “You’re always so polite, Scylla,” he remarked as he poured mustard on her soy dog. “Well, you gotta be, otherwise you’re just angry all the time.” She said this as though she meant to continue, but instead merely spaced out halfway through and stared out to the distance as the thought kept rambling on in her head. As she zoned out, lost in her own thoughts, Scylla’s skirt began to slip past her hips and her mind was not paying attention to what was happening to her body now. Seeing her skirt slip and fearing her embarrassment (or worse, his) Mr. Otanashi quickly snapped Scylla out of her self induced trance. “Your soy dog is ready!” his voice was a decibel higher than normal as he noticed she was spacing out as she often would. Plus, his embarrassment of fearing he may see more of her than he anticipated. Scylla’s eyes quickly snapped up to him, her hand scrambling to pull up her skirt. “Thanks Mr. Otanashi,” she pressed a credstick into the receiver on his cart. “Say ‘hi’ to the Mrs. for me.” “Will do,” he chuckled as she bounced back into her apartment building. Being the nosy person that Scylla had looked into Mr. Otanashi’s life extensively. Up until recently he had been living in a quiet suburban home, but since his wife had fallen ill he sold the house for a one bedroom and half a bathroom apartment because of her medical bills. Scylla didn’t quite know the whole story, but she can speculate enough. The records showed a lot of bills for medical visits and treatments, then a price listing for his house goes up online and lastly a he puts a down payment on a small apartment in the city. Every couple of weeks Scylla siphons some of her earnings into his bank account. He doesn’t know she does this, but she likes to think it’s one of the little things in his life that keep him happy. After eating her soy dog Scylla’s evening consisted of her usual routine: stoned out of her mind and aimlessly wandering across the vast expanses of the net. Despite her day being an average day, her night was quite the opposite. When the sun had gone down, Scylla had begun her nightly ritual of browsing the internet, searching for a hot stud to find dirt on. But first there was foreplay. Scrolling through the profiles of dozens of men and plucking out each bathing suit and beach picture she could. Propping a leg up on the arm of her sofa chair, she gently rubbed her sensitive nub through her panties. Already she was working up a wetness inside her panties. Soon she found the target of the night: Jeremy Franchie AKA ArianLibrarian516 or at least, that was his username on the forum website where he was dressing himself up in women’s clothes and taking tips to flash his tiny penis. The whole act got Scylla. Immediately she had found videos of the act and slipped her fingers into herself as she watched him tease his cock beneath a tiny skirt. Her eyes taking in the sights, while her mind wandered to what this man did in his everyday life, pretending to be normal to his colleagues and coworkers and knowing that with just one slip he could be risking everything. Letting out a stifled groan, Scylla pumped her fingers into her soaking pussy. Moaning in ecstasy, she was about to finish when a loud crack shook her from her pleasure filled trance. Following the sharp noise her window had shattered, spilling glass onto the carpet in front of her. Scylla bolted from her chair, eager to see just what had happened. Her fingers still wet with her own juices. Once she looked out the shattered window, she only had more questions. Lightning struck the streets again and again as the wind began to howl. Doing what any rational person would do while high, she took out to the streets to see what had happened. With excitement in her belly Scylla didn’t even bother to get dressed. Her feet practically danced down the stairs, because no one wants to use the elevator when they’re that excited. Once out in the streets, she saw that the lightning was not coming from the sky, but instead seemed to be careening from building to building, making a web of electricity between the tall buildings. Scylla stood in awe, mouth agape watching the light show. Not long after she began to watch the lightning all pulled together into a solid ball of light. Swirling with energy that ball of light soon seemed to solidify. Then in the blink of an eye, the light all formed solid mass and from that ball of light a motorcycle and it’s rider came pouring out, the back wheel left a trail of flames behind him as it did. The bike barely made it a few feet before swerving and crashing to the ground, sending it’s rider to the ground. “Ohmygosh!” Her words were practically one as she ran to the man who had just rolled violently across the ground. She wore nothing but a Fruity Soy Bar t-shirt and panties, but she was never really one to be modest about that sort of thing. “Hey! Are you alright?” Approaching the man’s side she noticed some fires started up on his his leather jacket, the large patch on the back said “Light Up the Night” she chuckled a bit at the irony, but only in thought. In action her hands were already patting down the small flames. This seemed to wake the man up who gave a groan beneath his burnt orange motorcycle helmet. “Hey, are you alright?” Scylla waved a hand before the tinted visor. His hand pushed hers out of the way before sitting up with another pained groan. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He looked around. The tall buildings looming over him. Growing up in the suburbs, what little there was left of them, he never really saw much of the city and it always took him by surprise. The neon lights that seemed built right into the buildings and the just the looming concrete structures felt alien to him. He even thought it was strange that even at night, it was so bright. Having grown up in the city, Scylla didn’t even notice the buildings. She only cared about the man, the one who seemed to materialize out of thin air. She’d never seen anything like it, was it teleportation? The physical sciences never really concerned her, she was more of a code monkey. She cared about the mathematics of things, not the physical science. Though, she was beginning to take interest in it after what she just witnessed. “Hey, so it’s 2035, right?” His voice sounded deep behind his helmet. “Yeah.” Scylla cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re alright? You may have clocked your head a bit too hard.” “No, really, I’m just…” the man paused. Phrasing. That was quite important here. “I’m just a bit turned around.” “I’ll say, what’s the deal with your bike? Is it teleportation or-” Scylla was cut off by the sound of helijets approaching close. Painted green and gold three jets made their way through the buildings and hovered just above them. Their loud speakers boomed. “You are in possession of illegally obtained Aztechnology. Please submit an ownership license or hand over the tech.” “Drokk!” Scylla cussed, “So, that really is some fancy tech you got there.” “Yeah, kinda,” the motorcyclist shrugged. “So, are you gonna hand it over?” She was smiling as if she knew his plan already. Moving towards the bike he stood it up. “Not a chance,” he muttered as he lifted up the back seat and looked up towards the spotlghts that shined upon the two of them. “Let me just grab it for you!” he shouted upward. Scylla saw a flicker of light and before she could even look to see what it was, he’d already tossed it. A molotov cocktail flew high into the sky and landed right in the rotary blades of the closest helijet. The resulting explosion caused the jet to sputter and being dropping from the sky. The mysterious criminal was already mounting his bike and revving it up. “Hop on and hold on tight.” Scylla did as she was told without thinking and the two took off, swerving in the empty, nighttime streets as the remaining two jets redirected themselves and began firing machine guns at them. This man certainly knew his way around a motorcycle. Despite the sporadic movements and gunfire, Scylla felt like he was in complete control of the bike. Taking twists and turns through the city, the two tried to lose the helijets. Finally making it beneath a low hanging bridge, the motorcycle came to a skidding halt, turning in place as it did. Bouncing with excitement, the man moved off the bike and made his way to the back wheel. He dug a hand into the small engine parts in the back and ripped a small cylindrical gold shaft, with crackling wire hanging off it. It didn’t look anything like a motorcycle part, even detached it glowed with a blue light. Tossing it aside he made his way back atop the bike. “That’s what they’re looking for, let them find it.” Then, with a smirk beneath his helmet he took off, following beneath the bridge so that they wouldn’t be seen from above. “I thought you said you wouldn’t let them have it.” Scylla spoke accusingly. “That’s just a transciever, it sends a signal to any Aztecnology agents in the area that there’s some unregistered object of theirs in the area. They don’t even know what it is.” Behind them, the two jets lowered to the bridge, right where their radars had led them. Right to the stolen technology. “Just who are you?” Scylla asked with childlike wonder. “The name’s Od, I’m a shadowrunner.” “Whoa! Mega neat!” She couldn’t take her eyes off his helmet, or his jacket. He was so cool and collected. She could barely contain her blushes. There was something about him that filled her up with joy and pleasure. Though that may have been the bike beneath them she could feel her loins rumbling with pleasure as she clung to him. The fact she didn’t get to finish earlier didn’t help. When they were safe the two of them camped out beneath the bridge, Od parked his bike and let Scylla off for a breather. She reached behind her ear and produced a small joint. Her specifically crafted earring that sat at the top of her ear contained a small plastic hook that held her joints in place even in extreme conditions. Placing the rolled paper into her mouth she patted herself down for a lighter. It was only at this point that she realized how she was practically nude at this point. In one fluid motion twirled a heavy metal lighter and kicked it open with his thumb. With a satisfying metal clink and the unmistakable sound of flint on steel lit the flame with one solid flick. He held the open fire to her with a rigid, steady hand. Happily she leaned in and lit the joint on his lighter, taking in a big drag as she did. She pushed out her smoke away from him then quickly pushed in for another drag before instinctively passing it to him. “No thanks, I don’t smoke. I just have the lighter for the molotovs.” He waved her off and she didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t even realize he hadn’t taken off his helmet yet. It would be hard to take a joint if you’re just gonna keep that on, she thought. “Yeah! What’s the deal with those archaic things anyway?” She was already sipping on the fragrant fumes once more. “You know you can just buy incendiary grenades, right?” Her last sentence was all said through an inhale. “Yeah, but those cost money, these don’t.” He tapped his helmet with his forefinger. “Like you’re one to talk about archaic, didn’t you say ‘drokk’ back there?” “What? Everyone says drokk, where the hell are you from?” She choked out a laugh. “Oh, erm…” He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing his mistake. “Yeah, I guess it’s just that I come from a family of ‘smeggers’ he chuckled nervously.” “Ha! ‘Smeg’? That’s like what gradeschoolers are trying to start, I doubt that’ll catch on.” “Yeah, you’re probably right.” A slight realization popped across Od’s mind and he quickly turned to Scylla. “Wait, I never caught your name.” “Took you long enough, Prince Charming. My name’s Scylla.” Placing her joint into her mouth, she stuck out a hand and he gladly shook it all the while the embers of the joint moved from faint red to bright orange as she took a handless hit. Taking her hand back she finally spoke again, smoke billowing from her mouth, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Likewise. You said you were good with code, right?” “Yeah, I’m pretty decent. Why do you ask?” “I can’t get ahold of my usual contact and I need some information on that tech we just lost.” He whipped out a datastick. “Any chance I could get you to take a crack at the encryption on this?” “And get a chance to look at just what the hell that was? No problem.” She grinned, clenching the paper between her teeth as she snatched the datastick from his hands. ~ As she finally awoke from her daydream she began fiddling with her commlink and in time with a few strokes on her touchpad a honk came from the other end of the garage. It was a tiny little honk, like the older irish twin of a bike horn. The horn continued to blaze as a tiny, pink moped came barreling towards Scylla. Across the front it read: ‘Little Miss Moped’ in an extremely white, cursive font. Without skipping a beat, Scylla jumped on and continued messing with her commlink, inputting the coordinates. She quickly pulled out her matching pink helmet and placed it atop her head, making sure to keep her hair properly covering her nose and left eye so that none of the street cameras could pick her up. Nowadays, Scylla was rather cold to her memories. She preferred not to think of them, she preferred to stay in her house and shut herself in and mostly not forming emotions like that for people. Nowadays, people were just a means to an end. Like Anthony. Little Miss Moped pulled up to a small suburban house just outside the city. Scylla put down her kickstand and set her helmet on the seat before walking up to the house. She rang the bell and was greeted by a woman who looked all too kind. Her face was so caked in makeup that it was difficult to tell whether or not she was genuinely happy to see Scylla. She wasn’t and of course Scylla knew this, but the two played this game every time she came over. “Hey Mrs. Fullerton. Is Anthony home?” The foil of Scylla’s mismatched outfit and Mrs. Fullerton’s floral apron and button down dress was so palpable you could wrap your leftovers in it. “Oh yes, he’s downstairs as usual.” She didn’t move from the doorway, merely standing there with that hollow, plastic smile of hers. Scylla sniffed at the air. “Are those cookies I smell?” “Oh yes, they’re still baking. You can have some when they’re done.” “Oh, I’d love some.” Scylla smiled, hers was genuine. Well, practically genuine. She was smiling at the thought of baked goods. Slipping past the rigid woman Scylla made her way down to the basement where Anthony was. He was down there, sitting on the couch playing that baby game he called ‘retro’, Scylla thought it was just plain dumb if you had to use your hands. “Oh!” The kid paused the game and turned to his guest. “Scylla! Wh-what’re you doing here?” The kid always seemed so flustered around her, she just assumed he was not used to selling his product to anyone out of highschool. He surely didn’t look like he was out of highschool. I mean, anyone who wore graphic tees of cartoons that hadn’t been on a network for fifteen years really hadn’t grown up entirely. Though, naturally he refered to the shirts as “vintage” but Scylla knew that was bullshit. “The usual. I’m out and thought I’d come see my favorite scamp in the process.” She reached out and ruffled his short blonde hair. “Oh, gee Scyll, that’s sweet of you and all, but how come you never call or anything?” His voice was pitiful and cracking despite being practically an adult. Wait, he was an adult right? Scylla pushed the question aside. It wasn’t important. “Don’t you enjoy my company?” She kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the couch beside him. Putting her socked feet in his lap. “O- Of course I do. It’s just that, you know, I never know when you’re gonna stop by.” He was getting obviously flustered from her feet so close to his crotch. Could she tell his member was slowly growing? Did she even care? “I don’t like using comms, you know that. They skeeve me out, anyone could listen to ‘em. Especially on a landline like yours.” Scylla had already reached to the small jar of leafy greens and papers and began rolling herself a joint. Her feet were bouncing tapping her toes against his crotch to the beat of some unheard tune. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” His eyes shifted nervously. “So, I’ll have the usual ounce of your best stuff,” she licked the paper and finished it up and patted herself down looking for a lighter. Anthony fumbled messily through his pocket and pulled out a cheap plastic lighter. It took him a few tries to start it, and once he did it shakily wavered in his hand. Od would have been quite disappointed. Scylla lit her joint on the flame and lean back to the arm of the couch. “How much’ll that come out to?” “Well, I could give it to you for free…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting away. Scylla raised an eyebrow as shge felt his cock throb against her socked toes. “What’s the catch? You got a job for me or something?” “N-no, it’s nothing like that.” His breath sounded labored and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I could give it to you for free if you-” “Honey! Cookies are ready!” Mrs. Fullerton called down to the basement. “Mom! I’m in the middle of asking Scylla something really important!” “Oh, I’m sorry dear! I’ll leave you two to it then.” Scylla tried so hard to stifle her chuckles, but as the pot kicked in she found it rather hard. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” “No problem, you were saying my pot was free this week if…” She gestured towards him with her hand which held a lit joint, letting him continue as the smoke spiraled behind her fingers. “If you’d, well.” His hand nervously ran through the hair behind his head. “I was hoping you might want to go to the Fall Formal with me.” A heavy laugh bellowed out of Scylla’s lungs and a large cloud of smoke accompanied it. She laughed hard and loud. She hadn’t ever gone to a school dance, even when she was in highschool, mainly because she was never asked. Though, now that she was asked she found it hilarious. However, when she saw the frown on Anthony’s face, she felt she ought to remedy the situation. “I’m sorry,” she said, still giggling. She took another drag before continuing. “Aren’t there girls your age to go with?” Her voice was strange as she inhaled with every word. “I don’t want to go with other girls. They’re not as cool as you.” Scylla couldn’t help but blush at this, causing her to exhale a billow of smoke. After all, she was pretty cool, but it was nice to hear someone else say it for a change. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. When is it?” She gave up rather easily, but with her inflated ego she couldn’t help but accept. “This Friday!” Anthony was all too excited. “Oh boy! Did you really say yes?” His heart was racing so fast Scylla could see the pulse in his neck. “Yeah, sure. I can go. No problem.” Scylla handed him the joint. “Oh, man Scyll. We’re gonna have so much fun.” He took the joint, gave it a tiny little puff and handed it back and then went to packaging her weekly use. “Yeah,” she tried hard not to sound sarcastic. “I can’t wait.” “Did you wanna stick around and play some games or something?” Scylla looked to the paused screen which depicted two burly men standing across from each other in karate gis. “Nah, I gotta get to a run.” “Oh man! A run! See what I mean? You’re so cool!” He shook with joy. “I bet you can’t even talk about it, top secret and whatnot.” “Yeah, kinda.” Truth was Scylla knew next to nothing about the run, other than a decker was needed. “Well, here.” Anthony’s hand dropped the large bag in her lap. “Thanks, kiddo.” Scylla pulled her feet from his lap and leaned in close planting a kiss on his cheek. She’d never done anything like that before. Though, she felt it was an appropriately high school response to the situation. “See ya Saturday!” “Friday!” He called back. “Right, Friday. See you then!” She stood up and slipped back into her shoes before heading upstairs. She grabbed a handful of cookies on her way out, shoving one in her mouth before saying “Bye Mrs. Fullerton!” with a garbled, cookie filled mouth. She hopped right on her scooter and looked up the street. Her face went pale when she saw that unmistakable orange helmet, that ancient bike, the only thing missing was his trademark jacket. With a blink he was gone. Scylla rubbed her eyes, questioning what she had seen. Shaking the sight from her head, she pulled on her helmet and set a course for the location of her run. As the moped came to life and began driving her there, she pushed another cookie into her mouth.