Written by writing.com user Hole. Posted to Collaberotica by WritingGuy.

“Oh! Ages.” You noticed each one had an age labeled next to their serial number. The ones on screen ranged from 16 to 200. Dang, militovans had a long lifespan. “She’d be like… wait, I never asked how old she was.”

“Good thinking. Luckily I already know her age: 19,” Kiyoko answered proudly.

“Wait, what? How do you know-”

“There. Just a dozen results. And sorting just female… 8 results now.”

You were about to retort but then saw the search results. “Wow, dang they’re pricey. 5 million credits each?”

“Those are just the starting bids, technically. They can sell for a lot more. These are young, matured, militovan women. In just a year, your girlfriend will be lactating space-nectar and making whoever owns her a ton of money.” As she talked, she pressed some buttons on the terminal, causing the pods to shift positions. Seems they would bring those 8 militovans to the front.

“Wait, space-nectar?” you ask. You vaguely remember it. Apparently it has something to do with FTL travel. Also, “Lactating?”

“Yes. What? Did Izumi not tell you?”

You shake your head.

“Huh. Well in that case, I guess it’s not surprising. Nobody’s ever really liked talking about it nor is anyone interested in the complicated process of FTL. And thanks to teleportation, it’s falling out of use anyway.”

“But what does Izumi have to do with it?”

“Because in addition to being a powerful recreational, yet surprisingly non-addictive, drug, militovan breast milk is the only known source of space nectar.”

“...wait, seriously?” You blinked in astonishment.

Kiyoko’s brows furrowed. “It’s why nobody likes talking about it and it’s the reason why militovans have been allowed to be enslaved for so long. They’ve been essential for galactic travel for centuries, so everyone wants to keep them enslaved and producing as much as possible. If they were even given rights to their own bodies, choosing not to produce anymore, it would’ve thrown the galactic economy off massively.”

“Jeez.” You couldn’t help but be reminded of something similar from your life. A gross, icky substance that had a terrible effect on everyone, yet was essential for travel, the development of civilization, and numerous wars were fought over the stuff. This substance was of course… that Spice stuff from those two movies you watched one time. Even down to the part about it being made by only one species in the galaxy. Only in the movies it was giant worms and not four boobed alien hotties. “So… does that mean Izumi will be hunted down forever?”

“Not necessarily. Like I said, it’s falling out of fashion. The rise of teleportation technology’s allowing the galaxy speak up to the cruelties of the nectar trade. It’s still needed for things like cargo and military ships, but tech on those fronts is improving too. Now the slave sectors have to rely on arguments like ‘sector rights’ because they can’t make economic arguments without sounding both immoral and outdated.”

“Well… that’s good to hear at least.” Now onto the second thing on your mind. “You also said it’s a drug?”

Kiyoko gathered her thoughts on how to explain this part. “I never tried it myself, but it's supposed to act like an aphrodisiac, but also a depressant like alcohol?”

“There she is!” you interrupt.

The eight pods finally shuffled into the front. Each of them was a different shade of green, purple, or blue. Guess militovans come in all different colors. But only the red one interested you.

Luckily, opening the pod is literally just a button press. The hatch slowly opens with a hiss and steam spilling out. Soon enough, you see Izumi’s form unobstructed, starting with her serene sleeping face, then her quad bust covered only by some leather patches shaped with Heinlein’s logo on them, then the wide hips that carry all that weight all day, also only covered by a precariously placed patch.

What really widened your eyes though was the solution to how she fit into such a tight pod. Her limbs weren’t contorted, they were completely gone, removed from Izumi’s waist and shoulders respectively. “Oh god, what’d they do to you?”

“Shujiko?” Wow, the wake up process was way faster than you realized, you didn’t notice Izumi had woken up and noticed you staring down her body yet again. “What’re doing here? Wait, what happened to your leg?!”

“MY leg? What about you? You’re missing both your legs and your arms,” you retort.

“They're jus- Agh!” Izumi winced in paid suddenly.

“What? What is it?” you said worriedly.

“I think my elbows are digging into my back. Get me out of this thing.”

Setting your confusion aside, you obliged and pulled Izumi’s limbless body out of the stasis pod, revealing behind her were four red limbs folded against each other, each you recognized as belonging to Izumi, including her long attractive legs and her intimidating fists.

“What the fuck is this?” you exclaim.

“‘Customization,’ they said. Not every buyer needs us with all our limbs.”

“Makes sense,” Kiyoko spoke up. “Milking factories just need the breasts intact. The rest is optional.”

“Who ar- Aren’t you that creep from the journalism club?”

“Creep? That’s a mean thing to say.”

“You asked to record me lactating!”

“It was for an article I was writing.”

“Speaking of which, how come you didn’t tell me about space-nectar?”

Izumi tensed up. “Uh… you didn’t ask?” You raised your eyebrow. Izumi shrugged her empty shoulders. “Because people who do know see me even less as a person, and focus more on my tits than normal. Or what’s in them anyway.” Izumi looks down with a bit of disdain in her eyes.

“Hey, forget about all that. Let’s get you out of here. Uh, we can reattach those, right?”

Izumi nodded and allowed you to reattach her limbs. Meanwhile, Kiyoko distracted herself with a nearby box of futuristic looking tools and devices. “I can’t believe you. I tell you to let me go and here you are, risking your life for some slave.”

“I’m not here for a slave, Izumi. I’m here for my girlfriend. Er, one of them anyway. You specifically.”

Izumi’s cheeks blushed purple before she sighed. “Well, you’re too boneheaded to listen to me, so I might as well go along with whatever hairbrained plan you got.”

“Am I boneheaded or hairbrained? Which is it?” you retort.

“Both, clearly,” Izumi smirked. You couldn’t help but giggle, yourself. You kind of missed her harsh remarks.

You press Izumi’s last leg to its place on her hip. There’s no metal attachments like Ai has, instead her flesh seems to just…mesh together like living clay. Whether this was from technology or strange alien biology, you couldn't say. It was a little disturbing but convenient regardless.

You pulled Izumi back on her feet, the weights on her chest imbalancing her after not using her legs for a week. She held onto you tightly to keep from falling, pressing those weights against you. However, she didn’t seem to mind this time, even with how much more naked she is now.

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” you announce, more to Kiyoko to snap her back to focus than to anyone else.