Couldn't fit 20k+ characters, so this section is split a bit awkwardly. Part 5 to follow very soon.
Part 4
I woke up the next morning expecting to find my personal footlocker waiting outside my quarters, but there was nothing. It took ten minutes just to work up the courage to open the door as it was, since I still didn’t have a stitch of clothing, and my fabber was offline.
“Jupil,” I said, “what’s the status of my personal belongings?”
“Good morning, Kirin. There was a delay in decontamination. Dr. Fliss has also requested that I fab you some new clothes for your first day. Given your supervisory role, you will very rarely need a jumpsuit. Take a shower, if you wish, and your clothes should be ready by the time you’re done.” I muttered at the clothing issue, the delay on my personal items, knowing the doctor had something to do with it. Inside the newly added shower, Jupil spoke again. “As a reminder, Kirin, you may feel free to engage in any sexual activity you wish in this shower or the rest of your quarters.” I wasn’t sure if an AI could understand eye rolling, but that was my only response. After washing and drying off, I went back to fab and found a pile of clothes waiting for me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What the heck is this crap?” I said, picking up a pair of lacy thong underwear. I tried to ignore the fact that I’d meant to say hell and shit.
“Dr. Fliss feels it is important to look professional but still feel pretty. Do you wish different colors, instead?” Jupil asked. I pulled on the panties, barely there, and not even remotely functional if I had to switch to a jumpsuit. I was used to solid boyshorts…or nothing, though the thought of that made me blush, and I looked at myself in the mirror to see my cheeks were red. It didn’t help I was so pale from not having been in real sunlight in years. The bra matched the panties, and I realized Dr. Fliss was playing dress-up—with me as the doll. I put on the synth-silk blouse and saw my nipples were hard under the sleek fabric. The bra did nothing to contain it, which in turn made me that much more aroused, especially after failing to hide my cleavage with the low-cut blouse. I pulled on the stockings, dark, sheer, but beautiful both in how they looked and felt on my legs. It made me think of old-style porn, though my mind turned to the simmo the doctor had made. The black skirt—a skirt! In space!—came a hand’s width above my knees. I hadn’t worn anything like this in my life, and it almost felt like a costume. The last element was the high heeled shoes at the back of the fab cabinet.
“I’ll trip and kill myself in this gravity.” I said, stepping into them and standing in front of the mirror. I wobbled a bit, but I did wear these back on Earth as a teenager, and in college, at least when I wanted to get sex—fucked. Forcing the thought made me blush again. “Gosh darn it…I can’t even think about sex?”
“The verbal block will help you avoid offending others, Kirin. I’ve taken the liberty of providing you guidance to Power Management on deck 43. It should take you approximately seven minutes to arrive, and much literature suggests being slightly early on your first day is good for your career.” I looked down at my wrister at the blinking icon on the map, taking a wobbling first step and moving out into the station.
Walking the halls in the heels wasn’t nearly as odd as feeling my breasts bobbing in gravity again. Fully naked, the experience was more natural, but with a bra supporting me I was feeling self-conscious as they bounced. No one seemed to care, and I wasn’t the only person dressed in a skirt or wearing hosiery. I really had gone kind of native out in the Belt. I saw a few people wearing skinsuits, probably on their way to an airlock to do exterior station work, but even those were slightly different than I was used to. Skinsuits, normally, were just that, nanomesh that went on like a jumpsuit but conformed to every part of body. Normally the brightly colored fabric showed every contour and was so tight you could tell which way a guy’s thing—cock—leaned. The suits on JL9 weren’t that brightly colored, and they seemed padded to hide all of the interesting bits on men and women. You couldn’t even see the cleft in someone’s butt—ass! “Darn it!” I said aloud, startling someone next to me on the elevator. “Sorry,” I muttered.
I made it down to Power Management with time to spare, and stopped off at a café for a coffee. I slumped down in a seat and sipped at my coffee, not really looking forward to seeing James and Elise after how we met, but I knew I’d be working with them for six months, if not two years, if I chose to extend my contract. I took another sip and was startled by a woman tapping me on the shoulder.
“Do you mind?”
“Was this your seat?” I said.
“We’re sitting over there.” The woman pointed across the small room to a table with a man and two other professionally dressed women. “We came here for coffee, not a show.” I looked at her, confused. “Close your legs, simmo!” She hissed. I looked down seeing I’d spread my legs in slouching, my skirt riding up, and the tops of my stockings showing. I knew my panties, if not more, were on display too.
“I’m sorry.” I said, trying to calmly ignore her insult and bringing my knees together to straighten my skirt. “I normally wear jumpsuits.”
“You expect us to believe you didn’t know exactly what you were doing showing off that hair of yours.” I touched my ponytail. “You know exactly what hair I mean!” And then I understood, blushing profusely while feeling my nipples throb. “Pay attention to how you act. This is one of the top corporations in the solar system, and if you want to join the traveling courtesans, they’ll be here next week, otherwise, keep your knees together.” She stormed off back to her table, but I abandoned my coffee, heading off to work.
“I apologize for not informing you of your possible indiscretion.” Jupil said on my walk. “My scanners are thorough, but I don’t normally plot line of sight regarding whether someone can see up your skirt or not.” Someone blinked in passing at hearing Jupil tell me this through my wrister.
“Jupil, can you switch to subaudible, I’ll communicate via biosys as well.” I said the last bit through my internal system.
“Of course, Kirin,” Jupil said in my head, “though it’s considered impolite to do this at work when relating occupational information. It keeps everyone better informed.”
“That’s fine,” I responded, “but people do not need to know about my state of dress, sexual interest, or whatever other elements that might even remotely be considered personal. If I look at a man’s crotch I do not need you to announce to the room that his penis is 17 centimeters.”
“I would ask him if I could reveal that, first.” Jupil countered.
“That’s not the point. Also, please inform me if my posture may be revealing, or if I accidentally forget to button something, or if one of my boobies—tits—fall out.”
“That’s highly unlikely, but I will let you know, Kirin.”
To be continued…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/35a0rq/power_management_part_4_scifi_enf_bd_ff_voy