I wrote this scene into the first draft before Ziw Balru appeared in the second draft review. After Balru departs, Sofita receives a mission assignment from Pitana Dag while lounging at the pool. The pair of hizaki are watched closely by three ‘breeders’ (a subak, a zaxir, and their zaxir daughter, Hako.) After Hako approaches them to speak with Pitana, she rudely rebukes Sofita’s offer to her two mothers for some group sex (common for femmar) up in her room. Following Dag’s departure, Sofita ends up going to her room alone where she engages in a tryst with an unexpected visitor. The sex scene is deleted because adding Balru’s conversation before Dag’s arrival proved necessary to the serial overall, whereas Sofita getting laid just made the mission-assignment ‘chapter’ far too long.
Deleted Scene: Episode 1 (Suffocation Arc)
Characters: Sofita Kul, MOB
Version: Second Draft edit
Content Warnings: Explicit sex, non-human humanoid genitalia, same sex intercourse
MATURE READERS ONLY
Closing the door behind her, Sofita paused.
When a donat, her kerma often hid in she and Fusada’s room, and the first to enter got an unexpected punch in the stomach. After a time, Sofita made sure that her twin entered first. These domestic exchanges began at age three, and by the time Fusada turned seven, she’d become adept at defending herself.
Sofita pulled her blaster from the towel and draped it over her desk chair. Her movement triggered the overhead light and the falling water track on the walls. She kept her three-room space sparse, an alternative to the cloying stall allocated to her in Orta. Her aging body needed the washroom’s soaker tub, and her hizak tendencies called for a modest erotic couch in the private room.
Unlike her marix comrades, a desk sat where a workout bench should’ve been, and instead of a peg-board unit for uniforms and weapons, the wall contained four rows of axico shelves for her literature.
Stripped bare, Sofita passed the long mirror on her washroom door. Years of training had twisted her formerly sleek upper torso into something sedate yet chiseled. A large girsuzsch was all that remained of her hizaki body, and these days it appeared more muscled than bulbous.
Last year, Sofita sought some casual suits from the Utama style-house she’d frequented when an administrator; her biceps proved too thick for something off the rack, and her frontals far too prominent for a standard vest. Forced to procure a tailor-fit wardrobe, she’d spent much of her saved credit on some custom-made garments.
A ranking Komad’s credit stipend didn’t go far, but she indulged in fashion and reading material, the only two things she retained of her former life. Walking to her shelved collection of antique odux, she tapped the edge of the highest shelf and made the entire wall recede. In its place came new shelves filled with hundreds of contemporary tomes, all neatly arranged by subject. She replaced the axico she’d taken to the pool and grinned when her eyes spotted a title on helovx-sexuality.
Dag’s disgust for helovx genitals amused her.
The hizak apparently found the Femarctic gashcol preferable, and Sofita’s interest in orally pleasuring either, to be disturbing. The monstrous yet brilliant Ryo Uym once told Sofita that any oral sex was preferable to riding her hand; she’d also opined that the burxol was evolution’s reward for standing upright.
Fusada had been the first to describe the gorgeous bloom of a swollen gash, how it turned a deep dark blue during a burx. Unable to appreciate the colors, Sofita took aesthetic pleasure in the taste. She longed for the comfort of sex, having abandoned her such pursuits upon entering Orta. Closer to midlife with her libido intact, her skills at social engagement had eroded.
Years before making rank, Sofita strategically avoided group encounters with their fast and forceful marixtiux. The genbluz presented a calmer alternative, but she disliked Orta being privy to her hiziburxic desires.
Suddenly, her door chime sounded off.
Sofita pulled on a robe and retrieved her blaster from the chair. Sliding it over her fist, she stepped cautiously to the door.
“I hope you’re not wearing a digger,” said the voice on the other side. “I’m no enemy.”
Humored, she peeled the weapon from her hand and tossed it back to the chair.
Opening the door revealed a light-hided bizak in a ventilation service uniform. Hands shoved into her pockets, the fellow Tenth’s tight overalls promised more than the slim figure they covered.
“My partner said our doe, Hako, was rude to you.”
Her long hair, fastened in the back, hung neatly in a tail over her shoulder, and Sofita admired the dark stripes along her neck beneath it.
“Rudeness I can live with,” she said.
“We’re fresh from the mainland.” The bizak leaned into the opening of the door. “Her nestor wants her here because there aren’t many soldiers.”
“You came here alone?” Sofita reached up and grabbed the molding over her door, forcing the robe open and giving the pretty bizzie a view of her suzsch. “To make sure this soldier wasn’t offended?”
“My shift’s over.” She brought her hand out of her pockets and ran her fingertips along the skin above Sofita’s frontals. “Did your invitation apply to more than just my bonds?”
Sofita let go of overhead trim and moved into her visitor’s space.
“My hizzah friend,” she said. “She’s not here,”
“That’s too bad,” said the bizak, falling against her.
Pulling her into the room, Sofita closed the door behind them.
The bizak’s cold hands roamed inside her robe as Sofita grabbed the little mounds on her chest. Taking hold of her thin waist, Sofita pushed her into the private room. When she turned to undress, Sofita slipped up behind and pressed the growing bloom of her gashcol against the bizak’s slender backswell.
Once naked, the skinny bizak faced her, and touching her hair, she said, “What’s this?”
“It’s my hair,” Sofita said, taking gentle bites of her neck.
“Bruisers don’t have hair.” The bizzy’s hands glided down Sofita’s back and took hold of the thick globes of her girsuzsch. “They don’t have backswells like this, either.”
“You’re not meeting enough bruisers.” Sofita pushed the slender bizak onto the couch and mapped those jutting hips and bumpy ribs with eager hands.
The bizak’s uzxi hardened beneath her tongue, and as she gently bit her way down, the lithe visitor arched her back and stretched her long legs over Sofita’s shoulders. Just as Sofita’s mouth reached her growing bloom, the bizak yanked her up for a kiss.
“I want to feel you against me,” she whispered, pawing at Sofita’s backside.
Aroused beyond measure, Sofita milled her swollen gash against the bizzy’s rib cage and slid a hand down to the bizzy’s gash. Finding it fully bloomed and wet, she spread her hand out over the inflamed mound and gently dug her fingers into it. Sofita slid her hand slowly between the folds, and after teasing her way in and out, she formed a fist and gently pushed.
A hand on the wrist stopped her advance.
“I won’t hurt you,” Sofita whispered, milling her enflamed gash against the bizzy’s hip. “I just want to watch it go in,”
The bizak shook her head. Hoping to thwart her desires, she twisted about in Sofita’s arms and rocked against her. Undaunted, Sofita kissed her way down the bizak’s back, but when her slippery fingers prodded at her visiting lover’s gurx, the bizak turned with her eyes wide and a smile on her face.
“Let me see it go in,” Sofita pleaded softly.
The bizak shook her head before pushing herself into Sofita’s arms. After several moments grinding against one another, the bizak wiggled free when Sofita tried to penetrate her again.
“You’re killing me,” Sofita groaned. “You can rub and ride like this with your bonds,”
“Fine, I’ll go do that.”
She tried to get up, but Sofita pulled her back down and smothered the laughing bizak with kisses. Spirited by the exchange, the bizak pushed Sofita onto her back and straddled her stomach.
Sofita took in the bizak’s nudity. The soft flesh of her uzxi, two captivating lines that came together over her dripping gashcol, remained hard to the touch.
“They said you weren’t a bruiser.”
She grabbed Sofita’s fronts and gave them a shake.
“I spill as good as any bruise.”
Sofita took her by the hips and impishly ground the bizak’s gurx against her swollen gash. After another prolonged kiss, she moved her thumb slowly over the bizzy’s rydok and listened as the little beauty lost herself in the pleasure.
Suddenly, she pushed Sofita’s hand away and dismounted.
“Not yet,” she murmured, standing on her knees.
Joining her, she took the bizak into her arms, pushing her ample chest against her lover’s smaller bumps. Sofita gently grasped the bizzy’s hair as her hungry mouth crept toward the bloom between her hips. A tongue lashed at the scar alongside her gashcol, and when she glanced down, she found the bizak smiling up at her.
“You went all the way when you decided to play soldier.”
The lustful moment fled. It felt like kerma had jumped from the darkness and punched her in the gut. Slowly, Sofita detached and moved away.
The bizak reached for her. “What is it?”
Sofita climbed off the couch.
“If I offended you, I’m sorry,” she said as Sofita stepped into her small washroom and closed the door behind her.
Outside the door, her visiting lover apologized again.
The scar stared back at her in the mirror; losing her makodux had been a worthy price to pay for access to the Zaxiri College. A soft knock on the door prompted her to grab a towel and cover it. She scolded herself before emerging from the washroom in time to hear her residence door close.
Don’t let it hurt your brain, ‘Fita.