FaNS gaiden: Iris gets a hand

Story by sozmioi on SoFurry

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#14 of Finding A New Self

Iris works in the 'body exchange' (the local name for the refitters seen previously in Finding a New Self). She's on the... manufacturing end. We start with a slice of life, then move on to something a bit less ordinary. Occurrs concurrently with chapter 8.

(gaiden - a lengthy aside, in a work of fiction or biography)


Iris woke up - she was splayed on her belly, the sheet soaked with sweat. It wasn't even her night shift, yet she'd woken a several times. Partly out of habit, partly out of the heat - not even midsummer yet and what a heat wave! She stretched out her long fox body as far as it would go in each direction, and held it. Not ready to get up yet.

The quarter hour chime sounded, suggesting to her that she really ought to get moving. She bent her legs, raising her butt in the air, dragging her face and fingers down the bed. The notion that she was awfully widely spread occurred to her, and she imagined doing this intentionally as a show for a hypothetical man crossed her mind. But it didn't really stick, partially because if she were doing it as a show, she would definitely be doing it more gracefully, and partially the hypothetical man quickly resolved into Kalas, and thinking of her futility with him turned her off. She groggily pushed herself upright. She pulled the sheet off and hung it to dry.

Her apartment was not very private, being inset into the warehouse as a second floor above one of the corners; one of the other defects of its privacy was lack of a shower of her own. She pulled her towel-bathrobe around her and went down to the warehouse floor. In one of the adjacent corners, there was a large gang shower - it was closed on the sides, but open on the top. She debated showering with the gang or doing it alone. It was a short debate - she wasn't with it enough yet to handle anyone else. So she drooped her way across to it, and hung her robe on one of the shower heads. She plopped herself in front of another, peed, then opened the tap hard on cold. Just a few seconds was enough to wash her and the floor reasonably clean, and jolt her to wakefulness. She dried off thoroughly, puffing up her fur at all points.

When she opened the door, Joire was just dropping off a mug of coffee. "Mornin', sis."

"Thanks." The cold left from the shower made the heat of the coffee tolerable.

Iris returned to her apartment, grabbed a basic work dress, put on her collar and returned to the warehouse floor. It was still dead, Joire's visit having been momentary, perhaps just for her. Everything seemed in order, so she went into the partition for the 'chain gang' and checked the log. Nothing unusual, so she took it and she hooked herself up. Slowly - ever so slowly - she opened the throttle. Their sleepiness oozed into her, but was fought back by the coffee. Once they were stirring, she opened the throttle all the way, and as one, they slowly stood up, pushing off the table.

Each of them pulled off her sheet, very methodically folded it, and put it at her place.

Each took a step to the right, then one back. One wobbled; Iris focused on her for a moment and she righted. Each turned to the left, put up an arm, and held the shoulder of the one in front. Then, the one in front lowered her arm. In lockstep, they got moving for their morning walk - waddling march, really - to the shower.

They walked in and filed around the edge, then took their hands off each others' shoulders, turned to face away from the wall, and knelt. Iris considered each in turn; in some cases, she induced vomiting. They then stood. Iris opened the tap, and the vomit was soon washed away. Each of the gang peed until empty. Then, each rinsed her mouth and face in the shower water. Each synchronously grabbed her sponge, soaped it, washed her body, and rinsed. Iris closed the tap.

They marched past her, and - this part was a wee bit tricky, though Iris was prepared to recover in the event of a bobble - each grabbed a towel with her free hand as she passed the pile. Once each had a towel, they all stopped next to the long rack and dried off until only the hardest-to-dry ten were still wet; those last few continued on their own, with the rest standing holding the towel. Once all were dry, each turned to the long rack, and put away her towel for later. Iris made a log entry.

There was still a little time, so she picked those that could jog and set them to it, jogging around the warehouse. Doing both jogging and walking would have been too much, so the other half stood still. When the hour rang, she filed them back behind their partition and around the table; each sat down, picked up her sheet, threw it over her shoulders, and rested on the table, head facing to the right, cradled in a beanbag-pillow.

Iris disconnected the collar, made a log entry, and sat down for a moment's rest.

Having gathered herself entirely back into herself, she set the confusion charm, logged the time. Then, to avoid the effects, she went to the back office. Sandy was there, and Iris reported: "Chain Gang done with the early morning routine, got the personhood prevention up. What's breakfast?"

Sandy made a little check mark on the day's master list, then held up his plate. "Pancakes. Can I help?"

"You just want to get to eat more pancakes, right?"

"Well, yeah." He grinned and took a bite. "That reminds me, it's time to stud again."

"So? We offer that duty out. Just hand 'em off to me once they're ready."

"Yeah, normally. For some reason, mom says the program calls for one of the rabble to be the dad."

"Oy. Yeah, not offering that to outsiders. So, who does it?"

"Traditionally? The head of the chain gang, you. But you're new on that role, so... Again, I'm glad to help."

Iris snorted. "I bet, but no thanks. Well, I will take your help, on breakfast."

Sandy got up and headed toward the kitchen, then stopped. "What toppings do they take? Honey, basil, spiced pickled carrot..."

"... tofu, and pineapple. In separate containers, not as one big mix!"

Iris headed back to the gang. The confusion spell was over, so she was clear. She reconnected and opened the throttle quickly this time. Each sat up, reached forward and grabbed her beanbag. The group began doing their upper-body exercises. Since they did not need to maintain balance, Iris could keep them at it while focusing her attention on one at a time, checking for signs of trouble, and identifying what the supplement to breakfast would be.

After a minute, Sandy showed up with breakfast. He served them, deftly slipping between the regular exercise motions to put the pancake-laden plates down. Iris halted the exercise once she had examined each. Then, walking down the line, she served the toppings and side-dishes.

Iris had them lay their heads next to their plates for a moment so she could transfer control to Sandy. Once Sandy was in charge, they picked up their heads and began eating, slowly and carefully. Iris stepped out from the partition, and went back to the back office.

Monin was there; she looked up and said, "Good morning, Iris."

"Good morning, auntie. I hear we're adding one to the gang today."

"Nearly right. We're adding two."

"Oh. That will make managing the gang a bit tougher..."

"I can be one, temporarily. One of them is almost ripe anyway, right?"

Iris nodded. "I heard we're handling the stud work ourselves this time."

"That's right. Got some very good breeding material; no point in waiting. Can you handle that?"

"I... umm... may have some trouble with that."

"Because he's little? You've felt them. They have impulses, and we know what they mean, even if they don't. It'll be easier than you think. And if you can't handle this yourself..." she narrowed her eyes. "... is being in maternity really your thing?"

Iris hesitated, but acquiesced. Getting her to understand Iris' real problem would just make things worse.

Monin added, "Go fetch H-082 from the study, and bodies A-1822 and A-1823 from the stacks, get it out of the way."

Iris headed to the other branch of the building, which seemed so huge by its number of active occupants, though it was so small. Nika was tailing a line of a twenty boys down the hall, each carrying a ball. Iris boggled at her ability to handle the diversity of shapes and kinds, and without wires even: almost half of them were nagas in mixed form; a few others were on four legs.

"Excuse me..."

Nika paused the line, one of the boys turned to look at her. "Yes?" said another.

Iris faced Nika, and replied, "I'm here to borrow H-082."

Another one of the boys said, "I'll take you." He stepped out of the line and led her off; the rest of the line started up again.

"Showoff."

Nika herself said, "Relax. I've been at this for twice as long as you've been alive. It'll come."

After a few turns, they were there, and her guide dashed off to catch up with his group. Iris went in, finding Nolen supervising a mixed group of 40; they were sitting at desks, writing synchronously. Iris sighed in relief that the soon-to-be father wasn't in the milk squad - she'd dread meeting him for feeding later on. Not one of them seemed to pay her any attention, so she went to Nolen. He had his eyes closed, and his tail was twitching slightly. "Yes?" they all said in unison.

"I need H-082."

They all said, "Right rear corner. Unhook him yourself."

H-082 was so anthro it wasn't clear just what he was - some sort of rodent - around six years old. Not far out of the milk squad, then. When Iris came close, she realized that though he'd been changed into the white plain uniform shirt, his pants were street clothes. She cradled his head in one hand, and unhooked him. In the few seconds before he could relax fully, she hooked him up to herself.

With his eyes, she glanced down at the paper. They were copying down flyers announcing the special service schedule at the temple. A short stack of completed ones was on the other side of the desk. The temple administrators were not as good at following the meta-ethical rules as the priests were, and frowned on the body exchange. That Iris attended regularly just confused them. "Do they know we're doing their copy work?" she asked with her own voice.

"I doubt it. The order came from the scribes' union. They hate this massive copying work, and who can blame them?" the room replied.

She headed back to the warehouse. Joire was joking with Ramant, and responded to her hail. "'Sup?"

"I need two girls off the shelves. A-1822 and 3."

As he went to the book to find their locations, he commented, "Don't usually see you taking orders."

"Well, today, I am." She ducked in to the partition to drop off the boy.

Sandy had set up the treadle under the bench, and they were pumping lightly with their feet; he was trimming the hair back down to crew-cut on one of them. "Took you long enough. Can I go?"

"Sure, sure. They don't need to be tended all the time."

"Is this the lucky dude?"

"Yeah."

Joire popped his head in. "Got 'em right outside the partition. Shall we bring 'em in?"

"No, just pop the box on the first one. I'll walk her in. Thanks."

He popped his head back out. Sandy sighed. "Close call."

"What? He knows what's in here. He also knows I'll eviscerate him if he comes in here, and he knows about the ID ward." Iris grabbed a spare collar, and headed out.

Iris looked in - a fox, like her, but taller and with less of a snout. She was dressed in the standard unisex storage gown - a dress going under the right arm, tied shut at the left side at three points, the top knot being tied over the left arm, holding the loose gown up. Iris fitted the collar to the body.

She claimed a privacy room and moved in, gradually becoming more agitated. She locked the door, turned to face them, and ground to a halt. She simply began shaking. Where was her life going? She had a job to do, but did it need to take so much, that she would end up having her first true experience of sex... this way? Asking Sandy to do it would be bad precedent, and Monin would hear of it, and what then? She had to get herself in order first.

She took off her collar and fled. Out the back, into the dockyards. She would have to come back around the building to get back in by the side or front door, but it didn't matter. The front of her mind said that she just wanted to get out, but she knew it was really because there was a chance Kalas would be here. Left, right... ignore a cat-call... there was his boat. She ran up to it, passing the workers unloading the fish. Then she saw that familiar tail peeking around the corner, and she ran up. "Kalas?"

The seal turned from the naga he was speaking with, shocked. "Iris? What are you... How did you know I.... What's wrong?"

Iris's voice caught in her throat, so Kalas dismissed the naga, took her by the shoulder and led her below. The room stank, of course, but she didn't care. She sat on the anchor housing, and he crouched in front of her. She murmured, "Kalas... I'm just in this awful pickle. They'd all say it's nothing and I should get over myself, but I can't. Can I have your word not to talk about this with anyone?" Kalas was still a little overwhelmed with surprise, but he assented immediately. "So, do you know what I do?"

"You work in the body exchange."

"Right. I mainly take care of pregnant mothers and their infants... who aren't people, who never were people. We keep them from being people, so their bodies can be used by others."

She paused, dreading the rejection, but it didn't come. "That's pretty clever! Go on."

"Well, since we own a lot of bodies, we have a breeding program. We don't generally take women who are already pregnant, unless it's really early. We aren't out to kill babies, only prevent them from becoming people if they aren't already."

"I know. You wouldn't."

Iris tensed as she reached the next danger point. "Anyway, since the bodies haven't got anyone in them, the age doesn't matter so much. So when the program calls for a little boy to be the father, there's nothing morally wrong with that."

He nodded. "Huh. Right. Not a person."

Iris was very grateful that he didn't press her, because she took a bit of time organizing the next thought. "Still, it means we don't want to use our usual means of breeding."

"Which is?"

"Well, we're in the red light district. There are men who pay to do it for us."

Kalas nodded.

"Even if we can count on their not interpreting it as molesting a child, being a little boy is generally a turnoff." Iris was unaware of certain fetishes, but it did not matter, as the particular situation at hand would have relied on two separate fetishes that do not mesh.

"I see."

Iris reached what she thought was the final hurdle. "That carries over to us as well. I was told to do it. And... I can't."

"I understand."

"The family... doesn't. Or if they do, they think it's a weakness to be broken out of me. Another is the creep everyone thinks we all are, and the rest are below the age of consent themselves."

Kalas sighed. "Before I say something silly, I'd like to ask - are you asking for advice, or support... or help?"

"Anything, really."

"And... why did you come to me in particular?"

Iris closed her eyes. "Because I know you're honest, so it'll stay secret, and you're outside, so you wouldn't expect me to get over it, and you're good, so you wouldn't try to just make me go ahead and do it without any real preparation, and..." She was crying in fear, but she told herself that there was nothing left to lose. "... I don't want my first time to be... that. I know you're in favor of pure marriage, and you're even engaged, so I don't even know what point there is. I don't know what you can actually do. It's way too late, we don't really know each other, and you wouldn't even..."

Kalas took her hand. "I'm not engaged, just betrothed. When the time came to confirm, I declined to confirm or break."

Iris opened her eyes. (Why didn't you signal your availability? Did you not know she was warning the rest of us off with a lie?)

"And... Iris. I do know you."

"Really?"

"Yeah! You intervened when Chial was tormenting the foreigners. You were the first to admit to denting the chalice. You weren't resentful that year Poya upstaged you on every single award you were aiming for. You have standards for yourself. With who you are, few give you credit for having them, and you could get away with not having them. That takes character. So... I trust that you're genuine about this problem, and not simply trying to lure me into something precipitous." He leaned forward. "That is what it would look like if I didn't know you, you know. So, what are the options?"

Iris joked as she wiped her eyes, "That's part of the problem - all the solutions are trouble. Like, I could probably do it if it weren't my first, but getting married this morning seems, as you say, precipitous. If you're capable and can see your way clear morally, you could do it for me. That still seems pretty drastic. I'm out of ideas past that."

"We can find a third way. Let's go and solve this."

Iris felt some hope, and she stood up. They proceeded off the boat and around to the side door. It was still early morning, a slow time at the exchange, so Iris was able to lead him to her private room without being discovered.

Once the door was locked, Kalas held up a finger. "I had an idea."

"Yes?"

"Do it by hand, put it in after. Much less... intimate."

"Yeah, I suppose, but even that... I mean, I don't know how!"

"I can handle the boy end of that without too much... ethical entanglement."

Iris was greatly relieved. "Well, if you can do that end, I can get it where it's going. We don't have the full wire room set up here, so it'll be harder to keep the bodies distinct in your mind."

"Might be an advantage, really."

"Heh. I suppose so." Iris showed her collar to Kalas. "This is how you do it. It's pretty intuitive, as long as you don't need to keep balance. Anyway, there's a second mother. I can bring her over, so we can do both in one go."

Iris returned to find the fox-boy standing there with his pants down, looking at his bulging testes. Kalas, sitting in the corner, said, "That doesn't look normal. He may have been treated or something to make this easier."

"Oh, I sure hope so." She hiked the gown of the second mother up, and laid her down next to the first. "If it's really simple, I'm sorry I got you over here."

Kalas shook his head. "I'm glad to help. Now... do we have anything to lubricate with?" The boy began pressing his penis up to his belly and stroking the base. Iris stared for a moment, then reacted: "Yeah, right here." These were the private rooms, after all.

Once lubed, he switched to stroking. After a minute, he stopped. Kalas said, "This isn't working. He can get stiff easy as anything, but... I think the problem is, I'm not excited. It's holding him back."

"So, I wouldn't have had a chance."

"Probably so."

"Hmm. What might help? Stand where there's a view? You're kind of off to the side, and low."

"Well. It's kind of unnerving, actually. They look dead."

Iris attached herself to the first, and had them sit up. "Looking alive, now?"

"A bit, but they look, well, as terrified and uninterested in doing this as you are."

"Kalas, I'm not going to be able to get them to look into it... but... I can make it matter less." She had them kneel on the bed, facing away, bent forward as if to receive doggy-style, almost like she'd knelt that morning.

Kalas nodded. "Okay, that's better, but now it just feels a bit wrong. I know you're used to them being just meat or dolls, but... you're... using them."

"Kalas. I know what you mean. It's cheap to show them. But... as you said, nothing precipitous. On the other hand, well... I'm open to the notion of a courtship. That could, in time, be me."

The boy came as she finished speaking, and caught the adult-sized burst of semen in his left hand. Kalas sighed, and reached for his collar. Iris rushed, saying, "Wait. Have him lie down, and cup it so when he relaxes... Good." Then she quickly transferred control. She had the mothers turn over and lift their hips so their vaginas were pointed straight up, and had the boy pour it in. They held position, to prevent spillage.

Kalas, as always, did not interrupt. Once she was done, though, he said, "Are you serious? About the courtship?"

"Why, yes."

"Excellent. I will immediately break off my betrothal."

"What? Isn't that precipitous?"

Kalas sighed. "More like inevitable. I left it alive on a chance. If she's been telling people we were engaged - did she say that right out?"

"Maybe. She certainly didn't correct us. It's come up more than once."

He sighed. "I didn't say we'd be engaged or anything... but where I am right now... better get old ties out of the way sooner rather than later." Kalas scratched behind his ear and looked away. "Well, that's that?"

"For today. If it doesn't take, could need to try again."

"I'm not around all the time, you know."

"It won't be urgent. Need me to see you out?"

"No, I'll... I'll..." He glanced at the two women, still holding their butts up, and an incredulous look crossed his face. "I'll be okay. Good-bye."

He opened the door a crack and slipped out.