Wiping her claws long the thighs of her workskin, the soldier let her eyes flick ahead. A twinkleing behind her skull, nuzzled warmly in her brain, told her that there was more to do.
She smelled it long before her psychic leash-holder alerted her of it.
He bit his tongue, surpressing a moan of enjoyment. As he fondled the more sensitive bits, he mused.
I wonder what sort of bitch broke big Brother's heart so bad he outlawed fuckin'...
Any cohenent thought was garbled, then finally overshadowed by another teasing wave of sensation. Not quite there yet.
From a shadow, the soldier watched, barely blinking. She had no opinion, but she could feel her leash-holder watching through her eyes, gaining a sort of vicarious,voyuristic climax with the self-gropeing young man. Even the soldier felt a tremble. The smells, sounds, heat, taste of passion on the young man's skin set her senses freyed. A Wild sort of quiver shimmied down her spine. Yet, she remained still.
The young Outerparty boy inhaled, a breath that got caught in his throat as it seized, body on the brink.
It was then she stepped from the shadows, changing the passion heat of her body into an explosion of tactical strikes as she lept at him.
The first thing her unique claws severed was his law breaking sin, detatched like the leaf of a flower. She then burried her other hand deep into his abdomen, pulling upwards, his claws splitting him in three from the hips, to the crown of the filthy boy's skull.
He toppled over with a 'quask', and the fighter's nose twitched. Dark eyes turned to her soiled claws, glistening with human fluids, metalic, like new coins, and salty. She sniffed again, before carefully drawing her tongue along the flat sides of a claw.
The killer realized a scent of another, keeping it in check, and as she did, she wondered if the young man's personal explorations were worth his life.