Uninvited Guest
By Musuko

musukomassiel-privatelog-150113-01.doc

Interesting day!
	Linda woke me as usual with my coffee and tablet of emails to flick through. Ever so slightly unusual was her nuzzling in under the covers with me. Hardly completely unknown, and certainly not unwelcome, but rare enough to be a treat. She cuddled in under my arm while I read, and her fingers kneaded into my chest fur.
	“Morning sir.”
	“Morning Linda. Any overnight news?”
	“Just one thing. It can wait, though.”
	So that was the start of the day. A snuggle with my personal assistant. I drank my coffee and perused my emails. One from Terik. Holy hell, he was learning to use a computer. The end was nigh. I marked that one to read later and tried to ignore the shiver of worry in my neck.
	“Need anything, sir?” came a voice near my armpit that dripped with misbehaviour. How could I refuse. Down under the covers she went.
Work began an hour or so later. Suit on, fur damp from the shower, eyes just about managing to stay open, I made my way to my office. Linda came with me. There was no need to be circumspect at this workplace!
	I slumped behind my desk, and she settled daintily into her chair, her tablet ready in her lap. She seemed to be anticipating something specific. I deliberately acted unaware, and ignored the sheet of paper waiting on my desk until she pointed it out to me.
	“Oh? Is this the overnight news?”
	“Yes sir,” she said, my ever-patient doe.
	“Well let’s have a look then.”
	I skim-read. She watched me. I started again from the top and read slower. She smiled.
	“Oh my,” I said.
	“Interesting, wouldn’t you say, sir?”
	“Oh yes. This hasn’t happened before, has it?”
	“Not to my knowledge, sir.”
	“And she’s with security now?”
	“Yes sir. Has been since yesterday evening.”
	“Do you think they’re treating her well?”
	“I highly doubt it, sir.”
	“Good to hear it. Well, I think we should go meet our uninvited guest.”
	“I wholly agree, sir!”
	The security wing was a bit of a walk from my office. I was tempted to use one of the pony traps, but I still wasn’t quite sure that the damage to the carpeting was an acceptable price to pay for the entertainment factor of having latex-clad pony slaves hauling staff around the building. I walked arm in arm with Linda because, well, why not? She was a married lady, after all. Who could accuse us of any impropriety? Apart from everyone, of course. Apart from them, who?
	I love the atmosphere in the security wing. The staff there are so serious and butch. And the uniforms just reeked of strength. None of them snapped to attention as I entered, because they were already fully at attention. I perved more than a little overtly at the taut bodies and polished leather all around me, and Linda did similarly in her more tactile way. Many bum cheeks got a squeeze!
	The detention cells were quieter than usual. I enquired, and Security Lead Lili Petunia answered in her usual abrupt manner.
	“Word got around.”
	I had a think before replying. “Around about what?”
	She grinned. One should worry when a saber-tooth grins. “About me.”
	“Oh?”
	Linda leaned in to whisper at this moment. “Lili has been taking care of their voluntary guests personally.”
	“Oh?” I looked back at Lili’s grin. “Oh! Well...good job, carry on. Cell thirty-six please.”
	“Cell thirty-six, sir,” she said, handing me the key. I hurried away.
	I kept Linda close to my side as we stepped through the archway scanner. The lights grew dim as we advanced down the corridor. Things went from white paint and smooth plastic to grey concrete and rough metal. The detention cells were intentionally harsh in appearance.
	“Perhaps I should ask her to ease up,” I said. “After all, allowing staff to holiday as prisoners here was meant to be for fun.”
	“And training, sir.”
	“And training, yes, that too. But fun mainly.”
	“But sir. It is fun when Lili looks after you. It’s just a bit too much fun for some.”
	I raised my eyebrow at her, a big grin on my face. “And how would you know, Linda?”
	“I hear things, sir,” she said, perfectly innocently.
	We reached cell thirty-six. I slid back the inspection hatch on the door and peered inside.
	“It’s padded,” I said. “I didn’t know we had padded ones.”
	“Just cell thirty to forty sir.”
	“Since when?”
	“A month or so ago, sir. Lili had concerns about prisoners who might hurt themselves.”
	“I bet she did. So...”
	I looked in through the hatch.
	“...we have what appears to be a female grey cheetah, apparently adult...”
	“Twenty-six, sir.”
	“How could we know that?”
	“She had her driver’s licence in her wallet when we caught her.”
	“Well. Alright then. A twenty-six year old female grey cheetah, currently wearing a straitjacket, ballgag, and a very pissed-off glare. Is that what I am seeing?”
	“It is, sir.”
	“And apart from those two items of clothing, she appears to be naked.”
	“Security didn’t want to take any chances, sir.”
	“Quite right. And she walked right into one of our front companies and requested to be a test subject, just like that?”
	“Yes sir. Into Amalgamated Integrated Dynamics Incorporated regional headquarters.”
	“Have we really gone that generic when it comes to naming our front companies?”
	“It keeps them off the radar far better than the jokey ones did, sir.”
	“Even so. I enjoyed the joke ones. And she’s not a registered customer or associate?”
	“No sir.”
	“Yet she knew where to find us and what to ask for?”
	“Yes sir. It’s a bit of a mystery isn’t it?”
	“You can certainly say that. Well, let’s go in and have a chat.”
	“Let’s!”
	“What’s the lady’s name?”
	“Tez Welles.”
	“Tez. Very well...”
	I unlocked the door and slowly pulled it open. I peeked inside. The cheetah’s glare fixed on me. I felt a shiver. Oh, that felt good.
	I stepped inside, trying to stride and look as authoritarian as I could, but my gait was more than a little upset by the springy padded floor. I’m pretty sure I heard Linda suppress a laugh.
	“So, Miss Welles. Welcome. It’s not often we receive visitors here, let alone offer them...hospitality.”
	“Ooh, good one, sir.”
	I cast a grin back to Linda. “I thought so!”
	Back to Tez. Anyone kneeling and bound like that should look vulnerable and nervous, but not this cat. That in itself was interesting.
	“If I remove your gag, you promise not to bite me?”
	She nodded. That was good enough for me. Out it came with a fingertip touch to the release catch at the back of her head. She spat the fat ball of rubber to the floor and coughed.
	“Thank you,” she whispered.
	“Don’t thank me. Just start explaining. How did you know where to find us?”
	“A friend told me.”
	“Who is this friend?”
	“I’m not going to tell you.”
	I pinched the spot between my eyes. “Oh Tez, don’t do this. Torture is against so many laws. It’s such a headache, and there’s all that paperwork and all that work finding a way to dispose of the bodies...”
	“He’s a former test subject!”
	“His name?”
	“What’ll happen if I tell you?”
	I turned to Linda. “I’m not sure, what does happen when test subjects break silence?”
	“We bring them back in for lifelong testing. It’s all in their contract.”
	I turned back to Tez, smiling. “There you go. Name?”
	“I’m not going to tell you.”
	I sighed. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have talked about that in front of you just now.”
	She shook her head, eyes wide.
	“Last chance. Name or torture?”
	She fidgeted in the straitjacket, but stayed stubbornly silent.
	“Very well. Linda, come with me.”
	We left the cell, and I shut and locked the door, closing the hatch.
	“Can she hear me through this?”
	“Not a thing, sir.”
	“Alright, good. So, what do you make of her?”
	“She’s pretty cute, I suppose. Nice tits.”
	“I mean about her story!”
	“Oh! Sorry, sir. He story?”
	“Wanting to be a test subject. Do you buy it? We have had security breaches recently. New years for example. Could she be a spy? A saboteur?”
	“She could be, sir. But...”
	“Yes?”
	“We could just give her what she wants.”
	“Why would we do that?”
	Linda grinned. I liked that look on her. “Well, she can’t do much damage if she’s testing, can she?”
	“I suppose not.”
	“And she would look so good in X-201.”
	“Oh now that is just too evil. Linda, I’m surprised at you!”
	Her grin got wider. So did mine.
	“Think she’ll sign a contract, sir?”
	“Only one way to find out. Go get one organised and meet me here in ten minutes. I’m going to have a word with Lili.”
	Just under ten minutes later, and slightly out of breath, Linda returned to interrupt my failed attempts to chat up Lili. She clutched an inch-thick contract between her paws, and she was smiling over the top of it. She all but bounced with excitement. I rolled my eyes.
	“Alright, out with it.”
	“I bumped into Sweet on the way here, sir. We talked.”
	“Oh? About what?”
	“About our guest. He has something he’d like to test on her.”
	Something caught my eye. It was Lili smiling. She leant closer.
	“I like Sweet,” she said.
	I dared not ask why. I smiled politely.
	“Shall we take the contract to Miss Welles, sir?”
	“Yes, let’s. Wait...no. You go do that. Take Lili with you, in case she causes trouble. I shall go to speak to Sweet.”
	Shen Sweet, the oddly tall and skinny panda who heads up our experimental and volatile research division. He and his team have carte blanche when it comes to their work, and it’s a policy that has served the company immensely well. Half the products in our catalogue started life as various explosions and funny smells in his labs.
	I passed through six airlocks and descended fifty metres to reach him. Airtight doors broke their seal and slid open for me, allowing me into the inner sanctum of white plastic and bright lighting, and the friendly face of BunBun.
	I hate BunBun.
	And Sweet knows full well that I hate BunBun.
	Sweet might have a team down here, but he’s the only living being working in these labs, aside from various test subjects. All the other members are like BunBun. And BunBun is a robot.
	A four-legged waist-high robot with a barrel-shaped ‘head’ that protruded from the ball joint on top of its chassis, built by Sweet four years ago out of white plastic, shiny chrome, and concentrated essence of cheerful evil. It earned its name via its ‘face’, formed of two mismatched and lopsided lenses and two vertical rectangular panels below them and off to one side. Some cruel soul had once remarked how the robot looked like a mutant bunny rabbit, and the name had been born.
	Not long afterwards, Sweet had added two fluffy pink bunny ears to the top of his...its...head.
	They flopped about as BunBun tilted its head and stared up at me.
	“Good morning Mister Massiel. How may I assist you today?”
	I twitched. It sounded like an answerphone message. This is what BunBun did; it would be the epitome of cheerful helpfulness, but somewhere along the line some biting remark or insulting double entendre would sneak out, and you would almost not notice it, and you would be left wondering if it had even said it at all, because how could something so polite and friendly and ultimately soulless come out with something like that? It was like being sworn at by a musical greetings card.
	I’m pretty sure Sweet programmed it like that. He denies it, of course. I can only hope he’s lying, because the alternative explanation...that BunBun developed its ‘wit’ independently...is too scary to contemplate.
	I readied myself for the mental fatigue to come.
	“Please lead me to Shen Sweet, BunBun.”
	BunBun beeped. It had absolutely no reason to beep! “Righto, Mister Massiel! Please follow me!”
	BunBun’s head turned one-eighty and his four spider-like legs clacked on the plastic floor as he scuttled off. I followed after, through a doorway and down a corridor, turning left, right, left again, two more rights, another left. I was pretty sure we were lost. Surely we must have looped back by now? I tried to make a mental map. But then we arrived, stopping at a door that looked just like all the others, which slid open to reveal a scene of devastation.
	I backed away from the doorway, but BunBun scuttled in without pause, stepping over scorched fragments of...something.
	In the midst of the smoke and chaos, Sweet emerged, his labcoat grey with soot, his fur smudged almost to the point of making him appear to be a black bear rather than a panda. He coughed and waved the smoke away from his face, froze at the sight of me, then grinned.
	“Hi!”
	I peered in through the doorway. Overturned tables, black soot, smoke shrouding the ceiling.
	“Mister Sweet...what on earth happened?”
	“Doctor Sweet! And what do you mean?” He glanced around himself. “Oh! This? Nothing, nothing. Just a small...accident. Nothing to worry about.”
	“An accident?”
	“An accident!”
	BunBun started to giggle. I ignored it.
	“What were you trying to do?”
	“Ah, well. That’s what I was talking to Linda about. I assume that’s why you’ve stopped by. She said you might. It’s, well. Remember the new year party?”
	“Yes, of course I do!”
	“Haha! Right! Well, I’ve been working on the putties, and I think I’ve found a way to keep them as they are, with the fun personality and all that, but keep them...tame.”
	“Tame?”
	“Well. Controlled.” He looked around the room again. “Mostly.”
	I raised an eyebrow.
	“Well,” he continued, “it’s not quite perfected yet, but I’ve managed to mix the putty in with fabric, which keeps it contained and stops it trying to spread. It just...kinda goes boom if it gets too excited.”
	“Excited?”
	“Yeah. Excited.”
	“Meaning?”
	He flounced his arms in the air. “Meaning, if there are too many loud noises the putty vibrates really violently, gets hot, and explodes. What else do you think I meant?”
	“I...couldn’t imagine.” I recoiled away from a charred lump near my toe. “This wasn’t a test subject, was it?”
	“Hmm? Oh this? No. God no! We were testing it on a dressmaker's dummy. We played some simulated laughter on speakers, as the sound seems to encourage the putty to tickle, but when it got too loud...this.”
	“I...see.”
	“But it’s ready to test on people! So long as you don’t let them laugh too loudly.” He paused, thinking. “And have a fire extinguisher ready.”
	“Okay...and you’re sure it’s safe?”
	“Sure! Kinda. Well...yes I’m sure!”
	“Sure enough to wear it yourself?”
	“Don’t be silly! I’m not insane.”
	“Hah. Thought not. So...what clothing have you put the putty into?”
	“Oh that part was easy. What else would I choose?” He held a finger to his lips, then tiptoed through the wreckage to a cabinet. He unlocked the door and eased it open...
	I felt my face spread into a grin. Oh that was perfect.
	I made a few calls. I instructed Linda to pick up something from the product stores. Lili and her team were tasked with conveying Tez to a testing cell, while Sweet organized a couple of his robots to carefully carry the putty-infused garment to the same location. I admit to feeling impressed by his no-nonsense approach to keeping it from exploding on the way; he simply instructed the robots to carry the entire cabinet there. I followed at a safe distance.
	Linda and Lili were waiting for me at the cell. The robots eased the cabinet to the floor and unlocked the door, then scuttled off. I touched a finger to my lips.
	“Very quiet now. Lili, especially you. If you talk...whisper.”
	She grinned, fangs showing.
	“Okay, here goes.” I eased open the cabinet door and gently lifted the garment out.
	“It’s a straitjacket,” whispered Linda.
	“It’s pink,” said Lili, a little too loud. I waved her to silence.
	“It’s got putty in it. That’s why it’s pink. And I mean it Lili, whisper. Loud noises makes this thing...explode.”
	Linda offered up a small box. “I’m guessing that’s why you asked me to fetch this, sir.”
	“Exactly.”
	Lili leaned over. “Those are no fun.”
	“I know. But necessary. Unbox it, Linda.”
	She did as asked, revealing a simple-looking ballgag, with a black strap and red rubber ball. It looked as plain as plain can be, and that was half the idea, because that made it all the more surprising for an unsuspecting wearer when they find themselves completely muted and incapable of creating any noise whatsoever from their numbed voicebox.
	I gestured to the door and whispered, “Shall we?”
	Linda tapped the appropriate code into the door, which slid open to reveal a standard basic testing cell. Other cells had specialised equipment, depending on what needed testing, but this one had only the bare necessities. A narrow, bare mattress with a plastic skin sat on a raised platform along one wall, a suction-activated water spigot on another wall, a squat toilet and accompanying spray cleaner nozzle, and that was it. The rest was wipe-clean grey plastic and a single recessed light in the ceiling. 
	Tez sat on the edge of the bed, chewing her gag and wriggling in her straitjacket.
	“She looks like she’s having second thoughts,” I said.
	“It’s because of the contract, sir.”
	“Why’s that?”
	Lili rumbled. “I told her it was for a year.”
	“After she signed it, sir.”
	“Oh you are wicked,” I said, grinning at Tez. “We normally wait a few weeks before telling them that, don’t we?”
	“Normally, sir. But she was too eager to sign. I’m guessing Lili wanted to knock her down a bit.”
	Lili nodded. Her grin made Tez pull back on the bed. I walked over to her and tried my best to loom. I’m not a very good loomer. But she did seem a little worried.
	“We have your test item. Are you ready?”
	She shook her head.
	“Good answer. Lili, get her out of her jacket and into this one. Carefully!”
	I stood well back. Linda did the same. Lili seemed unworried by the explosive nature of the pink jacket and tugged it from my grasp as if it were nothing. I caught a glimpse of the inner lining; smooth and pink and bare, undulating almost imperceptibly. It was putty alright. Lili definitely had skill when it came to controlling test subjects. Her unsheathed claws and powerful grip probably played a large part of that. The mundane jacket fell effortlessly off of Tez’s naked torso. It was a pretty nice torso. I of course based much of that impression off of Linda’s eager stare. One thing I did notice was Tez’s nipples, which were standing to attention. It wasn’t cold in here.
	“She’s turned on, isn’t she?” I whispered to Linda.
	“Oh yes. She’s dripping sir. This will be fun to watch.”
	Tez’s eyes shot wide open the moment her paw was guided into the first sleeve. From the parts I could see, it seemed the entire inner lining of the jacket had awoken at once and had transformed into tiny, wriggling tendrils, eager to caress and tickle. I shuddered involuntarily, remembering exactly how those evil little things felt. I suffered six hours of it.
	“How many hours are in a year?” I asked.
	“Lots, sir.”
	I laughed, then quickly hushed myself. Lili had Tez’s other arm in the jacket and was resorting to placing her knee across Tez’s lap. The cheetah was wriggling around, and she was already laughing into her gag.
	“I think we should have changed the gag first,” I said. “What’re we going to do to keep her quiet when we change them over?”
	“I will be quick,” said Lili.
	Linda and I backed away a little more.
	We braced ourselves, breaths held, as the front of the jacket reached Tez’s chest. It covered the crotch. In an instant, she had those tickling tendrils pressed right against her chest and crotch, and they pressed in tighter as Lili pulled the zip up the back and yanked her arms around her tummy to strap them together at the back, finishing off with another strap binding the forearms together. Her breasts were pushed up against the fabric, which I could see vibrating in waves from the scrubbing motion of the tendrils that I knew full well were driving her crazy under the pink fabric.
	The moment Lili let her go, Tez flopped back onto the bed and started to roll about, her naked legs kicking out. Her eyes were scrunched up in laughter, and the noises escaping her gag were strangled, high-pitched squeals.
	Linda shifted from foot to foot. “Sir...do you mind if I?” She was practically panting, and her fingers squirmed at her belt.
	“Go ahead.” I almost felt like joining her. I glanced and smiled at her. There wasn’t much point in trying to shame her. Her paw delved down into her underwear with not a single trace of shame.
	“Do you have the gag?” I said.
	“Huh? Oh...y-yes sir. Here.” She passed it to me, and I in turn passed it to Lili. At arm’s length, my eyes warily watching the writhing cheetah.
	“Be quick, Lili.”
	She nodded, her expression gravely serious. It was easy to forget that beneath the feline sadism lay a professional. She sat herself down on the mattress and hauled Tez’s struggling head up into her lap. Powerful fingers gripped it and held it immobile. Then...
	...I blinked and almost missed it. The mundane gag bounced off the floor, and the vocal impairment gag thudded in place between Tez’s teeth all in what seemed to be a single swipe of movement. The buckle clicked and locked. Tez continued to wriggle, but now the muffled whimpers were gone. She still looked to be writhing in ticklish agony, but I could close my eyes and I might as well be in a library.
	She hadn’t even had time to utter a cry. Lili had managed the whole switchover during a single intake of the cheetah’s breath.
	I pantomimed silent applause. Beside me, Linda moaned into her paw. I motioned for the door.
	“Let’s get out of here before she orgasms us to death.”
	We left Tez to her ticklish torment. I glanced back at the doorway. She lay on her side, legs quivering, eyes scrunched up closed, drool trickling from around the gag, tears welling in her eyes.
	“Is it what you’d hoped for?” I said.
	No answer. As expected.
	“Well...see you in a year!”
	The door slid shut behind me.

musukomassiel-privatelog-290113-01.doc

Two weeks done. Fifty to go. For Tez, our uninvited guest, our wannabe test subject. Sweet had called me down to show off something new. A small aerosol can which, he claimed, contained a liquid that temporarily ‘deactivated’ the putties.
	“Well...I haven’t tested it yet. Thought you might like to use it on that jacket.”
	“Why on earth would I want to do that?” BunBun was behind me. I felt sure it was making faces at me. I didn’t care that it had a completely immobile face, and technically didn’t even really have a face at all. I could feel it doing it!
	“You’re testing the putty jacket, aren’t you?”
	“Yes.”
	“Well?”
	“Well what?”
	“Don’t you want to get a report from the test subject?”
	I stared at his impish smile, then took the aerosol from him.
	“Careful!”
	I flinched. “What is it? Does this explode too?”
	“Hmm? Oh, no. It’s harmless. I just don’t want you to drop it and dent the canister!”
	I narrowed my eyes and left. I’m sure I heard the two of them laughing as the door closed.
	Tez awaited me in her cell. I didn’t bring an escort. It seemed unnecessary. I brought a pen, a pad of paper, and some duct tape. She didn’t notice me as I entered. She lay in a huddle on the floor, seemingly not moving until I got closer. She was quivering all over, and I could see the jacket wriggling, as it had from the first moment it went on, for two weeks solid, until now. I wondered how the staff fed and cleaned her, but then I remembered such questions tended to have ugly answers.
	I braced myself and sprayed the aerosol onto her chest. She stopped moving. I felt a spike of worry before I reassured myself she was still breathing. The jacket’s wriggling had stopped, as had her reactions to it. Slowly, she seemed to notice me, and pulled herself up into seating position.
	I reached behind her. She flinched away from me. But she settled down when her arms pulled loose for the first time in two weeks. Still clad in the jacket, but now free to move, they flopped into her lap. She started to move them, and the  grimace in her face told me everything: cramp. Major, major cramp.
	I gripped her wrist and held the pen against the vague location of her palm. “I don’t know how long the spray lasts, so make the most of it. Write down anything you want to say.” I pulled out a length of duct tape and wrapped it around her paw and the pen, taping them together. I dropped the pad into her lap, then retreated to the far wall.
	She stared at me. Her lips worked on the ballgag. She looked at her paw and flexed it. Then, in a flurry, she scrawled across the pad.
Let m go!!!
I leaned over to read. I stifled a laugh. “Sure. Fifty weeks from now.”
	She clenched her eyes shut, then scribbled.
	Let m go!!! cum!
	I shook my head in mock pity. “Sorry, that would spoil the test.”
	She knocked the pad aside and rubbed at the fabric over her crotch with both paws. The tears welled in her eyes.
	“Come on now, you agreed to this. Regular reports, whenever required. It’s in the contract.” I picked up the pad and deposited it back in her lap. “You don’t want to break your contract do you?”
	She shook her head, eyes wide and staring at me. I love that look. I tapped the page.
	“Good girl. Get writing!”
	Was that a glare? No. I didn’t think so. In shaky, clumsy letters she began to scrawl.

it tikles so much i cant stand it oh god i want to go home please PLEASE!!! i cant sleep it tickles all nite cant eat cant drink they make me do it with tubes its so humil NOT FAIR! i waned to test sex toys not this!!!!

	She started to cry. I read what she had written. She started to squirm.

its starting again please make it stop ill do anything PLEASE! please let me cum pls let me go cum cum cum please!!!!!!!!!!

	The pad toppled from her lap and she fell back against the bed platform, her face wrinkled in tension, her body quaking with silent tickles as the jacket resumed its work. I retrieved the pad and untaped the pen. I moved to restrap her arms, but at that moment she pounced. I stumbled back as her arms flung around my leg and hugged it closed. I reached for my belt alarm, but hesitated. She had pressed her body up against me and was humping like a feral dog in heat. I moved my paw to the wall, steadying myself. This was far too funny to interrupt.
	She tried for ten minutes! Her inner thighs were slick, and the frustrated suffering on her face was priceless. I knew exactly what she was thinking; any time she got close to orgasm, the putty would adjust and stop the stimulation taking her over the edge.
	She fell away from my leg without a struggle. I lay her down on the floor and crouched over her.
	“I’ll leave your arms unstrapped for now,” I whispered. A nice surprise for the next visitor! I patted her on the tummy, feeling the movement beneath the fabric, and leaned in close to her ear. “Just fifty more weeks to go...”
	I wished I could hear her react. I gathered up my stuff and left, on my way to see Sweet. I’m sure he could find a way to cure the jacket’s sound sensitivity.
	No rush, though. He had fifty weeks left to work on it.