u/kastkonto21

​

Every career has its ups and downs. In my line of work, a slave trader of the smuggling variety, those swings were usually massive. The highs were astronomical, the lows catastrophic. But even I hit rock bottom sometimes, and that's exactly where I was now. A few months back, I'd bet everything on one shipment. rare, expensive cargo for what should have been a long, quiet run. Instead, an ex-partner dropped a dime, the authorities boarded, and they seized every last credit of my goods.

That's how I ended up on the southern edge of a dead moon, the bad side of the mining colony Gigantus, a place I'd sworn I'd never see again. There are only two reasons anyone comes here. Buying slaves in bulk, sight unseen, or a desperation so deep that being sold feels like salvation from whatever hell you can't escape.

I docked my ship, a rust bucket held together by duct tape and prayers, at one of the outer ports. The stench of hopelessness wafted aboard, and a chill ran down my spine. With every credit I had left, I opened the shuttle bays. A flood of bodies surged inside, each of them praying this was a ticket to something better, or at least to a life that wasn't a daily brawl for survival. The credit counter drained faster than expected; prices had shot up since my last visit. The warning sirens wailed as the bay doors began to close, swallowing the last of the stragglers into the cargo hold.

The second we decoupled, I gunned the engines, desperate to put this rock behind me. It took half an hour of manual maneuvering to slip onto one of the main shipping lanes, where I could vanish among the traffic. A forged manifest and a stolen diplomat's pass, lifted from a guard I'd found blackout drunk, were my tickets through. The old ship settled into its familiar rhythm: rattling frames, groaning plating, and the constant hum of turbulence.

I moved fast through narrow corridors, past defunct weapon mounts, heading for the manifest to see what I'd actually bought. A sudden jolt of turbulence threw me into a wall as I rounded a corner, slowing me down. When I finally reached the cargo hold and pulled up the list, it was clear this haul was as filthy as it was lucrative. Halfway down, my eyes snagged on a line. I stopped. Reread it. The cargo bay doors hissed open behind me. Could it be? No mistake. There was a human on board. A first for me. A first for anyone, as far as I knew, in centuries. Humans were rare; powerless humans were practically myths.

The bay doors sealed, the last of the cargo locked away in their quarters. Manifest in hand, I scanned for G23. I flew past it in my haste, second pod from the end, second row. I pressed my palm to the scanner. The opaque glass flickered, then cleared. And there she was. A human.

​

The year after Dad left was quiet. Too quiet. Especially around holidays. Christmas felt like something we just got through. But now it's February, and every store is filled with red hearts and boxes of chocolates. It's a constant, loud reminder of what's missing.

I see you, Mom. I see how you try to keep it all together, how you smile when you don't really feel it, how you've thrown yourself into work and making the house feel like a home again. You've been so strong, for both of us. But I see the loneliness in your eyes when you think no one is looking. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel special, to be treated to a nice night out where you don't have to be the one planning everything.

So, I'm going to do it. I'm going to ask you out.

I find you in the kitchen, wiping down the counters after dinner. The space is clean, but the air feels heavy.

"Hey, Mom?" I start, leaning against the doorframe. "You busy?"

You glance over, offering a small, tired smile. "Just finishing up. What's on your mind?"

I push off the frame and take a step into the room. "Valentine's Day is coming up. I was thinking... you shouldn't have to spend it just working and then coming home to an empty house." I take a breath. "So, I was wondering if you'd let me take you out. To that Italian place you love. My treat."

You stop wiping the counter, your hand stilling as you look at me, really look at me. "Take me out? Like... a date?"

"Yeah," I say, holding your gaze. "Like a date. I want to show you how much I appreciate everything you do. I want to see you have a good night, a night where you're the one who gets taken care of. So... will you let me take you out for Valentine's Day?"

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Kinks: long nails, mommy domme, gentle femdom, lovense toys, pegging, age difrence, chocking, being riden, cfnm, being shared

Limits: men, chastity, cuckholding, men and sph

​

The darkness was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic click-clack of heels on polished floors and the bitter taste of beer on my tongue. For the past ten minutes, those sounds had been distant, ambient, part of the restaurant's strange blind-date experience. Now they were approaching, each step echoing closer until they stopped directly across from me. Instinct took over. I pushed my chair back, found the edge of the table with my fingertips, and rose to my feet, extending my hand in what I hoped was a smooth, confident gesture. "Hello! I'm Tom, Jeanie and Mark's friend." The voice that answered was female, smooth, and vaguely familiar. As my hand hung awkwardly in the darkness, I slowly lowered it and sank back into my chair, thanking whatever gods watched over fools that you couldn't see me blushing at my own foolishness.

This whole disaster had started two weeks ago, four shots of tequila deep at Mark and Jeanie's kitchen table. After years apart, them chasing careers, me chasing a degree, we were finally back in our hometown, ready to be proper adults. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and I'd confessed my weakness for older women, a predilection that traced back to Mrs. Henderson, my old math teacher, and had since been reinforced by professors, bosses, and countless other women who carried themselves with the confidence I found irresistible.

Jeanie, bless her meddling heart, had taken this as a personal challenge. The email confirming my reservation at "Le Noir", the city's most exclusive blind-date restaurant, had arrived last week, followed immediately by her text "You're welcome. And don't you dare cancel." And now here you were, introducing yourself in that voice I couldn't quite place, making me wonder if my friends had set me up with someone from my past, or if this was just another one of life's cruel little jokes.

​

The year after Dad left was quiet. Too quiet. Especially around holidays. Christmas felt like something we just got through. But now it's February, and every store is filled with red hearts and boxes of chocolates. It's a constant, loud reminder of what's missing.

I see you, Mom. I see how you try to keep it all together, how you smile when you don't really feel it, how you've thrown yourself into work and making the house feel like a home again. You've been so strong, for both of us. But I see the loneliness in your eyes when you think no one is looking. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel special, to be treated to a nice night out where you don't have to be the one planning everything.

So, I'm going to do it. I'm going to ask you out.

I find you in the kitchen, wiping down the counters after dinner. The space is clean, but the air feels heavy.

"Hey, Mom?" I start, leaning against the doorframe. "You busy?"

You glance over, offering a small, tired smile. "Just finishing up. What's on your mind?"

I push off the frame and take a step into the room. "Valentine's Day is coming up. I was thinking... you shouldn't have to spend it just working and then coming home to an empty house." I take a breath. "So, I was wondering if you'd let me take you out. To that Italian place you love. My treat."

You stop wiping the counter, your hand stilling as you look at me, really look at me. "Take me out? Like... a date?"

"Yeah," I say, holding your gaze. "Like a date. I want to show you how much I appreciate everything you do. I want to see you have a good night, a night where you're the one who gets taken care of. So... will you let me take you out for Valentine's Day?"

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Kinks: long nails, mommy domme, gentle femdom, lovense toys, pegging, age difrence, chocking, being riden, cfnm, being shared

Limits: men, chastity, cuckholding, men and sph

​

We’re up for the same promotion. Technically, every junior associate is in the running, but everyone who has even the slightest chance of actually making it up the ladder knows it’s really just between the two of us this time.

You’ve worked your ass off from day one. Being a woman, being a person of color, the deck was stacked against you from the start. But you overcame it. You fought your way forward every time. While most others let their circumstances hold them down, you rose above them, even used them as fuel, showing the world that no one would ever set your boundaries for you.

I’m the complete opposite. I come from means, not quite a silver spoon, but close. School wasn’t all that hard with a private tutor two hours a day. Sports weren’t that difficult either, not with an Olympic gold medalist for a mother and coaches who knew her name. Life has never been too difficult. Where you had work ethic, I had privilege, and no small amount of natural talent.

At the company retreat, we’re presented as the two finalists for the promotion. We’re assigned a cottage far from the main compound and told we have until the end of the weekend to return with a decision about which of us will take it. If we can’t come to an agreement, it’ll be given to the man third in line.

Natural-born rivals. Two sides of very different coins, coming head to head.

Will nature win? Or nurture?

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Contrast is compelling, light and dark, ease and hardship, privilege and will. Nothing is set in stone, and I’d love to build something together. If this appeals to you at all, please let me know what you liked, what you didn’t, and I’m sure we’ll end up having a grand time.