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Cellulose & Steel	By : Not-Taylor Category: Misc Books > FemmeSlash Views: 1178 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own HDG or its characters and I don't make money from this work.

Chapter List
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“Welcome back, little one. Did you enjoy your date?”
“It was a tour, not a date,” Song explains. She’s really doing this, isn’t she? What a weird and pointless argument to have, and for no possible gain, but she’s doing it anyway, provoking Verda. To spite the weeds, that must be why.
“Really?” Verda pulls the Terran to her gently as she passes her chair, vines flitting around eagerly. “You smell of wine.”
“Right, but it wasn’t a date.” Admitting that was a mistake.
“So at what point on the tour did you have alcohol, darling?”
“The end, right before I came back.”
“Of course. What else did you do on this tour that wasn’t a date,” Verda asks with a smirk. She releases Song but keeps her vines in a shell around her, preventing her from leaving.
“Do I really have to tell you?”
“I suppose I could just ask Evlen myself. Would you like me to do that?” Song sighs.
“We went to the kitchen and a bunch of other places, including the roof where there were a bunch of chairs.”
“Is that where you drank together?”
“It is.”
“So you finished your tour of the hospital by sharing drinks on the roof, and that wasn’t a date?”
“Right.”
“You’re truly adorable, pet,” Verda replies with a doting smile. “Of course it wasn’t a date. But, unfamiliar as I am with Terran customs, what would have made it one?”
“If it were a romantic thing.”
“Then it wasn’t romantic? Does your tour guide know that?”
“I hope so. Did you tell him otherwise?”
“You were with me the entire time between when you agreed to meet him and when you did.”
“What about before then? Would you have given him weird ideas?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t have. Still, perhaps we should let him know that, when he comes back.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because my adorable floret went on a date with another floret and looked very cute and happy upon returning. Don’t pretend you think you can disguise your gait from me, darling. I know you too well already.”
She can tell Song’s mood by how she walks? What a creepy plant. She could use some bleach right about now. She shakes her head to drive out the rhythmic rustle of vines and Verda’s biorhythms, which seem to be harmonizing together somehow. Well, not somehow, if it’s all some natural tempo set by her internal systems. Song pulls back into the knot of vines that have been there since they started talking. Verda shifts some tendrils to massage her shoulders.
“Really? Not even denying it? Well, I’m pleased you had fun together. The fresh air did you good, as did the rest, I’m sure. You don’t appear intoxicated… by alcohol. All right.”
Verda retracts the vines from around her prisoner and smiles at her. She doesn’t say anything. Song throws herself onto the bed, groaning from the disruption of her rotational sensors. Her affini warden looks on, noticeably more upbeat than she’s been for the past couple of days.
“Now what?”
“What do you mean, pet?”
“I’m stuck here. Now what?”
“Would you like me to entertain you? I’ve just been finishing up some work, so I have time to play with you if you’d like.”
“No! I… Do you have any books?”
“Nothing I’ve checked for appropriateness, but I’m sure they exist.”
“What about more music?”
“Oh. Is that what you’d like?”
“Something.” Song somehow feels it wouldn’t be smart at all to use the word anything at this juncture.
“Right, of course. You’d like the tablet back. I don’t want you becoming attached to it though. That’s supposedly an issue humans can develop if their use isn’t restricted.”
“I’ve already done a lot more than look at too many memes, weed.”
That makes her pause. Her smile wilts as she remembers just how long Song spent running a ship all by herself. What a thoughtless xeno.
“That’s why I’m urging you to be careful. I don’t want you to relapse again. It’s why I’m so happy you were able to enjoy your time in the real world, not rotting in a hospital room.”
“Really?”
“Of course, really. The certainty of having my tendrils watching over you at all times isn’t worth you being cooped up here. Having you obligated to be close to me permanently was never my plan. Did you not realize that?”
“What did you plan for when I wasn’t with you?”
“That you would make friends, and maybe learn to occupy yourself. I regret not being more clear about that expectation as it seems to have caused you to be more hostile than you otherwise would be.”
“I see.”
“And I’m very proud of you for not trying to escape, pet. It’s such a delight to see how you’ve grown to accept your new role. Even though nobody was forcing you to return, you did! And I’m glad you’re back with me, even if I’m also glad you were able to explore a little on your date.”
“You keep calling it that, so explain that to me. I’m a lesbian.”
“Really? It isn’t my place to police your sexuality, but I find that a little hard to believe.”
“Really. I’ve never been attracted to a man in my life.”
“Why do you bring this up now?”
“Because it couldn’t have been a date, since I’m not into men, especially not xenos.”
Verda nods knowingly. “I understand. Of course. And because you’re a lesbian, and very much not straight, when I mention Evlen’s name your heart doesn’t start beating loudly enough for me to hear the difference all the way across the room, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Darling.”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“What did you do to me, you allergen factory?”
“Nothing much. I suppose I ought to mention that the xenodrugs I’ve been administering when you’ve been asleep have an occasional side effect of slightly shifting sexual orientations toward sex typical…”
“WHAT?” Song bolts fully upright.
Verda’s tone becomes serious. “The xenodrugs might be making you a little less gay. It’s a consequence of other changes they make. Is that a problem? If it makes you uncomfortable I can look up some partial antidotes and modifications to preserve your lack of attraction to males, though that's not usually something meriting intervention.”
“You made me.. You- You made me… You- I…”
Song is having trouble breathing. How would the weed do this to her? How could it be so evil that it would think conversion therapy was acceptable? Why would it even think to do that? So she could fulfill the perverted doll fantasies of dressing up and doing straight people things with other straight florets? It’s disgusting!
“I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t think you’d mind that your feminizing xenodrugs made your attraction more typical of natal females. I can stop giving you those entirely if you’d rather.”
“What…”
“Your hormone therapy, essentially. You didn’t think I could allow you to revert when that would clearly distress you for no benefit, didn’t you? That’s part of what I was so angry at your kidnapper for, the other day. She neglected your treatment. Say the word and I’ll give you masculinizing xenodrugs instead.”
“I…”
“You can change your mind at any time, pet. But the longer you go before switching back, the more painful it might be. Still very doable, but not as comfortable.”
“You-”
“What about me, darling?”
“You were…”
“Would you like me to stop giving you those xenodrugs? Now that I think of it, I should have asked before. I would have, were circumstances less objectionable. So would you?”
“I…”
“Or better yet, since you dislike the idea of Affini medicine so much, I’ll ask differently. Would you like me to continue providing you with sexual realignment xenodrugs? If not it’s entirely all right and I can restart them whenever you feel comfortable with them.”
“No, I…”
“You wouldn’t like more of them? You’ve already been changing.”
“I… No, I…”
Verda puts her hands in her lap and lets most of her vines relax to a less intimidating pose, giving her Terran some time to think about whether she’d like to medically detransition. That’s not really what this was about, and both of them know it, and they each know the other knows it. It’s about Verda making Song ask for xenodrugs. Not beg, Song notes, ask.
She has no idea what Verda’s actually been dosing her with, or if she’s been giving her anything, or if she agreed it would be what Verda claimed it would be. She remembers how she’s looked and felt in the mirror lately, especially today before meeting with Evlen. Fine, the xenodrugs work as described. Is it that impossible the Affini would have figured that kind of thing out, and figured out that their slaves will revolt less with that kind of leverage hung over them?
Affini aren’t supposed to harm their florets. Verda said the xenodrugs will work just as well later as now, but they’ll hurt more. So what is pain being weighed against such that Verda is willing to let Song suffer? She’s coercing her into asking for xenodrugs herself… probably so she “gets over” her “anxiety” about them. Probably also to make her think it’s some benevolent gift. That makes sense. And as a result she’s actually willing to let Song revert until she asks for them. Probably. Is it worth seeing if she’s bluffing?
No… Realistically it isn’t. She yelled at Artemis for discontinuing for no good reason. Now there’s a good reason, at least by weed standards. Anyway, Song thought she was off her pills the whole time, so it’s not the worst thing. Assuming Verda’s telling the truth it’s not a terrible deal to make, is it? Song does look a lot better…
“Promise me you’re not misleading me about that.”
“Darling, really? You think I would lie to you about such a thing?”
“Of course.”
“Then I give you my word as your mistress that what I’ve told you about xenodrugs since you came through the door just now is correct.” She solemnly crosses two especially thick vines in front of her chest while making clear eye contact with the person whose mistress she’s claiming to be.
“Then… I…” This is really hard for her to say. “You… I… want… you to continue to give me the feminizing xenodrugs. And not other xenodrugs.”
“Should I alter them to revert your sexuality?”
“No. I- It’s fine.”
“Really? You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. As long as I don’t change too much.”
“Of course, darling. Thank you for being direct about what you want. It makes things a lot simpler when I don’t have to guess.”
“A lot simpler for you.”
“Yes, pet. That’s what I just said.”
“Right.”
She tries to curl up away from Verda, but it doesn’t achieve much when they’re so close to one another. There’s really nowhere to hide. Song feels especially bare right now. She’s turning into one of those disgusting things. She’s wearing their humiliation garments, eating their food, fraternizing with xenos, and asking her “mistress” for xenodrugs that have unknowable side effects. She hates this. She wishes Evlen had stood too close to her by the edge of the roof and startled her off of it to fall to her aesthetic and poetic death. Fucking weeds.
There’s not much to do besides listening to music, and Song most certainly doesn’t want to subject herself to the puppet show that is the guide to being domesticated. It can practically see those Terrans as little yappy dogs dressed up as princesses and having their paws waved at the camera, happy to be scratched behind the ears. It’s inhuman and inhumane.
Of course… what does it mean that Song was so ready to ask for xenodrugs, knowing very well that she might get what she doesn’t want, and accept it willingly as a trick? The Affini are cunning, that’s true, and Song has to be better. She has to think past them… or who knows what could happen. She doesn’t want to be that. She wants to be who she is… Song wants to be who she is. Song wants to be who "she" is. Hmmm. Better to think of a way out than dwell on frivolity. The ship opens an album with a drawing of Scott Joplin on it, leans back, and puts the headphones on. It’s ready to pretend the weeds don’t exist for an hour.
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Cellulose & Steel