[20th agent log] Escape from Sex Gulag

The air in the room was heavy and warm, and it was thick with a heady smell that clouded my senses. I couldn’t quite place what it was…a little bit of spice, I think, and something else. Passion, maybe; the underlying musk of piles and piles of conquests, consummated in the very bed I was sitting on. A certain sort of coppery scent, too…blood? I wouldn’t be surprised. Actually, I’d be surprised if it weren’t.

The lights dimmed as she entered the room – I wondered if that was by design, or if it was just the…effect she had. She was a monster of a woman, stretching higher than just about anybody I’d seen in my life, with sweeping black hair and a vicious, predatory gleam in her eyes. Her arms and legs were…deformed, I guess, wrapped in black metal and wicked claws, but she moved with an animal grace. It felt like she’d barely entered the room before she was on me, just inches away, her hand on my shoulder, easing me back onto the bed.

Take deep breaths. …Ugh, that smell was strong. Maybe don’t take deep breaths. But try to relax. This is routine. You’re trained for this. It’s just…a little more intense than usual.

I stopped her, squeezed her steely wrist gently as I held myself up, answering her momentarily puzzled look with a smile.

“Warmaster, please.” I forced out a giggle and moved to brush my bangs out of my eyes – a brilliant yellow-blonde, just for this mission. Not usually part of my image. Her claws dug into my shoulder as my back hit the blanket behind me, and panic flashed through my mind.

“Warmaster…!” My voice squeaked as I tried to push her away, but she was too heavy, too strong. And too forward; my hands seemed to slide off her shoulders and around her neck as she leaned in, lips pressed softly against my skin.

“Is first of many times you will cry out tonight, little Callidus,” she muttered, her breath tickling my neck, then trailing up my cheek and to my ear as I tried to sputter out a real response. “But I think I am preferring something more…personal. Yes.”

“Kharn…” It slipped out before I could stop it. It was a plea, a pathetic, weak cry for mercy as I tried again to push her away. But her lips against my ear, her breath, the way her claws stroked my cheek…they drained the energy from me effortlessly, and I found myself pulling her closer instead.

Our lips met, and I surrendered as she conquered my mouth with her tongue. Fireworks exploded across my vision as her claws glided across my chest, leaving electric lines of tingling pain in their wake. I barely noticed as she sliced through the top of my gown, not until she pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting us, and started to trail down my body.

I thought it would be strange at first; her tongue was long, kind of unsettlingly long, and more flexible than anyone’s ought to be. It was probably stranger than I realized, but I barely noticed as it left cool, wet trails on the most sensitive parts of my chest. Two more slices, one on each thigh, flashes of pain that blended in seamlessly with the confusing, unwelcome pleasure.

I couldn’t stop her. I couldn’t even make myself want to, as I held her close to my shivering body, as I pushed her further down. It was like I had totally lost control of myself. She mumbled out something in Russian, something I couldn’t even parse at the time, as she finally yanked my gown up above my waist, her head sinking down between my-

-LOVE IS OVER-

The words burned into my retinas, replacing silky, picturesque black hair traveling down my-no, nevermind. Don’t get hung up on it. One by one the scents, sounds, and sensations from the Warmaster’s chamber faded away, and the blinking message that swallowed my entire field of vision gave way to the VR trainer’s menu. As it restored each of my senses in turn, I could feel someone pinching my cheek, calling my name.

“Rin-chaaaan.” A firm but playful voice, and a familiar one. My helmet slid away – rather, it was raised away from my head – and I was left staring into clear, crystal-blue eyes framed by yellow-blonde bangs. Her nails were painted the same blue color, and she was digging them into my cheek a little, like it would wake me up faster.

“…Spymashter.” I snuck my hand in front of my forehead for a salute, something that only made her laugh. …At least she let go of my cheek, once she backed off.

Satou Yuri, 01, the Spymaster of the Twentieth. The world’s best-kept secret, she liked to say. The Callidus that every girl in the world would give anything to be, and a self-proclaimed hidden treasure that only a handful of fortunate souls were allowed to know.

I was one of the lucky few that did, though, as part of the scant few hundred magical girls worldwide that made up the Twentieth Officio Assassinorum. The Shadow of the Moon, we liked to call ourselves. It was our job to fill this dark world with light. ...Well, alright, that was a little dramatic, but Satou-sama liked to say it anyway, and whenever she did, it looked like all the stars in the sky were in her eyes.

Although that didn’t really make it make any more sense, thinking about it.

“You’re going to wear yourself out if you keep pushing yourself so hard. Didn’t you just get back from an assignment?” Her mouth twitched downward a little. Satou-sama was usually pretty easygoing, so it hurt a bit to see her upset. “You didn’t really think you were ready for that one, did you?”

“No. Maybe. Sorry.” An awkward smile grew on my face. I slouched down and scratched at the back of my neck a little bit, where the helmet dug into my skin. “I…wanted to prove I’m serious about becoming one of the best.”

It was a half-lie. There was no way I was going to make it, and I guess I knew that. Escape from Sex Gulag was supposed to be impossible for even the most elite Callidus; it was designed with the Spymaster in mind. She wanted something that’d stump even her, and someone – tech officer Kobayashi-chan, I think – came up with the idea of, er.

Of trying to get out of Kharn the Betrayer’s bedroom with your maidenhood intact. As a blonde, even; the Spymaster’s physical data was the model and everything.

It was really popular for a lot of weird reasons, and as of a few minutes ago I kind of understood why. They’d started monitoring who was running what simulation a little more carefully since one of the other girls…ruined the chair…pretty badly, but I really didn’t think Satou-sama would come to pull me out of it personally. She grinned at me again, and my heart leapt as she reached in to ruffle my hair.

“You need to pace yourself a little better, Shibuya. Even I didn’t become the Spymaster in just one day,” she huffed.

“It took me almost a week,” we said at the same time. It wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation, and it wasn’t the first time she’d made the same joke.

“Okay, okay, smartass. You’re on tonight, yeah? If you prep right now, we can squeeze in an ice cream trip before you go.”

It took a second to sink in, and once it did I beamed at her. Almost everyone else that usually hung around HQ was busy with a big, ugly mission creeping up on us, one that we projected would require dealing with a ton of magical girls on top of the usual array of dangerous thugs. We’d kind of become a big family as we bonded over our passions and our one huge secret. She was lonely without the others here, and to be honest, I kind of was too. So I accepted.

For her sake.

---

“I told you not to wear yourself out, Rin-chan,” the Spymaster pouted at me over her ice cream cone. Cookie dough, with a million colorful sprinkles in it. “Seriously, we don’t have to talk about work all the time.”

“I was just hoping to pick your brain a little.” I nibbled at my own – chocolate, just chocolate. “I mean, you’ve met the real thing, right? And you two… …y’know.” It was pretty convenient, having something sweet to just…focus on, when I didn’t want to elaborate. I’d keep that in mind.

We were both out in our day-to-day disguises, partly so we didn’t get chewed out (as much) later for skiving off to get ice cream on a workday. Dirty red hair for her, pulled into a sidetail, along with the standard facial and physical changes. She really liked to show off, even when she was trying not to show off.

I just tried to look more normal, which wasn’t really a stretch for me. Looking pretty normal was one of my strong points.

“…Mmm…So you want to hear about Kharn, huh.” Satou-sama’s eyes drifted half-closed, as if describing the Betrayer was kind of hard for her. “You own a dog, right, Shibuya? How’d you train it?” She took a big bite of ice cream as she waited for me to answer.

“Well…I show him what I want him to do, and if he does it, I give him treats. Or when I want to show him I love him. And when he’s a naughty doggie, I whap him on the nose.” I emphasized it with an invisible whap on an invisible Koromaru’s nose.

“That was pretty cute…could you do it again? Let me get my phone out…” She started to dig in her purse with her free hand, but I cut her off with an emphatic ‘no’. “…You’re such a fuddy-duddy. I command you as your sempai!”

“Weren’t we talking about Kharn…?” I forcibly pushed the train back on track before she had a chance to sulk.

“Fiiine. Well, anyway, Kharn was…is, I guess, but she’s retired now anyway…Kharn’s basically a big, adorable, bloody dog. She likes to eat and kill and fuck. The trick to dealing with Kharn was pretty much the same – give her a little push toward what you needed her to do, then give her a little treat. I mean, the real trick was getting it past Malal, back when she was active, but…y’know. Then she died.”

…So that was the kind of person that led the Ninth? My question must have shown on my face, because Satou-sama started to laugh.

“It’s pretty easy, right? But in the sim...it’s like giving your dog a piece of bacon and then trying to get it away from him. You probably can, because you’re his master, but he’d just growl at someone else, even if it was someone he knew.”

“And that’s what Malal could do? Take the…bacon away?” …Something about being compared to a meat product was kind of unnerving.

“Yep. She had Kharn on a tight leash. That’s not THAT uncommon, though, I’m pretty sure the new Warmaster is kind of the same way.” I bit into my cone with a little crunch, and the Spymaster did the same. She chewed it in a hurry, though, and swallowed. “I mean, I’m not sure yet. It’s probably easier to get Matsuda angry first, if you want to make her do something. That’s what Mari-chan’s working on right now…”

We chatted for a little while longer, mostly about the new sim that Kobayashi-chan was trying to set up with compiled data on the new Warmaster. She said it’d be just as hard as Escape from Sex Gulag – the whole point was to get Warmaster Matsuda to sleep with you.

I guess without shooting you in the morning, or something.

---

The air in the room was heavy and warm, and it was thick with a heady smell that clouded my senses. It held an underlying, spicy scent, along with a little twinge of blood, and a much bigger twinge that smelled like an Officio locker room. A scent I couldn’t really describe in polite company.

The lights dimmed as she entered the room – I wondered if that was by design, or if it was just the…effect she had. She was a monster of a woman, stretching higher than just about anybody I’d seen in my life, with sweeping black hair and a vicious, predatory gleam in her eyes. Her arms and legs were…deformed, wrapped in black metal and wicked claws, but she moved with an animal grace. It felt like she’d barely entered the room before she was on me, just inches away, her hand on my shoulder, easing me back onto the bed.

Take deep breaths. Right. No. No deep breaths. I had a plan this time.

I glowered up at her as hard as I could manage, and with all the courage I could muster, gave her a firm whap on the nose.