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“Oiled Leather” by Royce Day [18+]

[18+]

Today’s story is “Oiled Leather” Royce Day, writer of the sci-fi thriller The Visitors, and The Red Vixen Adventures by Royce Day . You can find more of his stories at Amazon.com.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

Transcript
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Today I'm reading an adult story for mature listeners.

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If that's not your cup of tea,

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or if there are youngsters listening,

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you can skip this one and

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I'll have a new story for you next time.

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time.You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

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and Today’s story is

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“Oiled Leather” Royce Day,

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writer of the sci-fi thriller

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The Visitors, and The Red Vixen Adventures by Royce Day .

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You can find more of his stories at

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Amazon.com.

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“Oiled Leather”

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by Royce Day You couldn't miss the smell of oiled leather.

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In Salli's mind it brought back memories of rides she had taken in her youth,

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aboard very expensive imported Terran horses at first,

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suitable for young cubs,

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and then the much more dangerous

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and deliriously fast grass chasers.

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The creak of the tack,

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her toes clutching the stirrup rings,

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the feel of the beast underneath her as its powerful muscles flowed

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and the ground passed under its gait.

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Why it was coming from Ali's office was completely beyond her.

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Salli knocked on the door lightly.

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“Ali, may I come in?” “Sure, Milady,”

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Ali replied from inside. “Ali,

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you're my spouse. You don't have to keep calling me...”

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Salli began to say as she entered,

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stopping short as she saw what was laid out on Ali's workbench,

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where she normally tended her weapons.

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“What is that?” Ali turned towards her,

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ears growing red with embarrassment.

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On the bench was a

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remarkable assemblage of....

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well, Salli supposed it was a uniform of sorts.

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The oiled leather smell came from a bodysuit,

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made of leather dyed deep,

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blood red. It was small; obviously custom fitted to Ali's compact

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but powerful frame,

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and featured a remarkable number of zips,

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buckles and belts in its construction. “Ah, Lady Melanie just sent this to me,”

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Ali began to explain.

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“It's a uniform she made for me back when I was her...”

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The younger vixen visibly bit back on the word slave,

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probably knowing how badly Salli would react to it.

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“When I was hers.” “She made you wear that, in public?”

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Salli asked. “Only a couple of times,”

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Ali said. She shrugged.

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“The idea was that I was supposed to look impressive when I accompanied her as her bodyguard.

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It was terrifically expensive to make.

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There's this moddie human female, as short as I am if you can believe it,

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who has a leather goods shop on a station the Scarlet Claw used to visit.

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She took my measurements and

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put it together for me, all handmade.”

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“So why didn't you wear it more often?”

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“It looks great but

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the leather can't help but impede my movements in a fight,” Ali said.

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“So Milady Melanie said it was

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more important that I was comfortable,

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and let me wear regular clothes.

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She sent it back with the rest of my gear after she put the Claw into mothballs.”

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“I see,” Salli said,

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reaching out to stroke the front of the suit with one finger pad,

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rubbing the smooth leather,

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recently oiled by the evidence of a bottle and a rubbing pad set to one side.

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The profile of a snarling vixen’s head was embroidered

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over the right breast,

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the symbol of Melanie’s former Red Vixen persona.

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“It’s well made.” “Miss Kincaid, the leatherworker,

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did a good job,” Ali agreed.

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“What are you going to do with it?”

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Salli brought her finger back up,

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sniffing delicately.

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The scent of the oil and leather seemed to fill the room,

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sending a shiver up from the base of her tail to her nose.

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“I guess put it into storage.”

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Ali shrugged. “It’s not like it’d be much use here.

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Can you imagine me trailing behind you dressed like that, when you meet with a colonist or someone on your staff?”

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Actually a vision of that was exactly

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what Salli was thinking about.

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Now if it only came in blue, to match my dresses. “Hrm,”

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she said, tapping her finger against her snout.

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“Salli?” Ali prompted.

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“How did you…” Salli cleared her throat.

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It was apparently her turn to have her ears turn red.

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“How did you look in it?

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Do you have any pictures?”

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“No pictures that I remember.

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Of course Lady Melanie always avoided recorders whenever she was in her

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Red Vixen persona.

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You could ask her though.”

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“I don’t think so.”

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For one thing, she’d have to explain why she wanted them to Melanie,

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and she didn’t feel like being the butt of her sister-in-law’s rather questionable humor.

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Ali’s expression grew curious.

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“Would you like me to try it on?”

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she asked. “If it’s no trouble,”

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Salli replied, feeling her mouth grow suddenly dry.

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It must have been the scent of tannin in the air, that was it. “Sure,”

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Ali said brightly.

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Salli took the workbench’s seat while Ali locked the office door

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and began stripping out of her gear and clothing,

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laying her equipment belt on a nearby table,

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then stripping out of her clothes.

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First came her skirt,

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leaving her leggings.

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Then she began to unbutton her waistcoat,

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folding it and setting aside before unbuttoning her blouse.

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Then that was taken off,

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revealing her lithe torso, rangy muscles defined under her fur,

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which was black with a white panel running from her throat to her belly,

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and white paws. Ali pulled her sports bra over her head,

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leaving her nipples visible in their nest of fur,

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and then unbuckled the forearm holster of her palm stunner,

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normally hidden under her shirt,

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with considerably more care.

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Then finally she peeled out of her black leggings and panties,

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leaving the young vixen bare before Salli in all her athletic magnificence,

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unconscious of the beauty she projected.

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“Not even your panties?”

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Salli asked, more to distract herself from the sight of Ali

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than in any confusion.

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“As tight as this thing fits,

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going commando is that best option,”

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Ali replied, grinning.

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She sat on the edge of the workbench,

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taking hold of the bodysuit and leaning down to begin pulling it up her legs.

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It slid with reluctance,

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the interior lined with what looked like

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black plastic or rubber,

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with tiny clear plastic tubes

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that almost looked veins threaded through the lining.

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“Should I turn up the air conditioning?” Salli asked.

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“Aren't you going to boil in that

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thing?” “Nope,” Ali grunted, dropping lightly to her footpads as she continued to pull the suit up her thighs.

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The legs of the suit both ended in a pair of cross straps that partially covered her pads.

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“The interior lining has cooling veins running through it,

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like a spacesuit,

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only since it isn't meant to be worn in a vacuum the heat transfer is a lot easier.”

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She grabbed the tip of her own tail,

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pushing it through a small opening over her ass,

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shoving the furry mass into a tail bag,

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also like a spacesuit now that Salli thought about it.

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Then she worked her arms into the suit's,

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the openings at the wrist

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ending in straps that crossed between her thumb and fingers

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and across her palm pads.

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Salli watched her work,

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as Ali reached between her legs

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and grabbed a double zipper,

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pulling it up from her crotch to bosom,

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breathing outward as she continued to pull

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until the suit closed in tight around her neck,

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the high collar pressing against Ali's chin,

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forcing her to stand with her head held high.

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“Isn't that uncomfortable?”

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Salli queried, fighting a very sudden urge to run her fingers down the length of the zipper

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to Ali's crotch. “No,”

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Ali said, breathing carefully,

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the suit creaking across her chest.

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“It's supposed to fit tight around my throat, so I could wear the chains of my old collar on the outside.”

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“Ah,” was all Salli could say to that.

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Actually there wasn't much else she could say either.

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Despite the suit's cooling system it was obvious,

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very obvious to Salli's nose,

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that Ali was beginning to work up a sweat, which combined with the scent of the oiled red leather

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was growing increasingly distracting.

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“Now the buckles,” Ali said.

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She began with ones at her wrists and ankles,

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obviously meant to help keep the suit from riding up.

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Less obviously useful were the ones at her biceps and thighs.

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Then a series of six went up her chest,

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covering the zipper with a separate flap,

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ending at one over her throat,

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sealing away the zipper's end.

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All the buckles were of a curious construction,

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lacking any tongue,

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just flat slots of blackened metal

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that the strap ends fit into loosely.

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“How does that work?” Salli asked,

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feeling slightly foolish with all of her questions. “Won't

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they just slip out again?”

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“Show you in a moment,”

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Ali said. She grabbed her equipment belt and strapped it around her waist,

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then took a small remote control unit from an equally small pocket of the suit,

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handing it to Salli.

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There was only one button on it,

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unmarked. “Press it.”

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Salli did so, watching as Ali let out a short grunt

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as the myriad of straps suddenly tightened,

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the suit now molded to her body like a second skin.

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“Smart straps, using magnets embedded in the leather and the buckles,”

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Ali said, her expression looking slightly strained

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as the body suit snugged itself tightly around her stomach and chest.

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“And they don't release without this?”

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Salli asked, fingering the remote.

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“No, milady,” Ali said.

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“Mistress.... Lady Melanie used to hold onto it when we went out, so I wouldn't lose it,

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she said. “I see,” Salli replied,

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her voice growing husky,

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her own breasts pressing against the bosom of her dress

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as her breathing deepened,

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taking in the combined scent of Ali and her marvelous suit.

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She smiled, slipping the remote into a pocket of her skirt,

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before wrapping her arms around Ali,

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pressing the younger vixen back

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against the workbench

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as she growled possessively.

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“Then by all means, let us continue the tradition.

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She let Ali out of the suit.

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Eventually. This was

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“Oiled Leather” by Royce Day,

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read for you by Khaki,

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your faithful fireside companion.

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You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

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or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Thank you for listening

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to The Voice of Dog.

About the Podcast

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The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read by Rob MacWolf and guests. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @VoiceOfDog@meow.social on Mastodon, @voiceofdog.bsky.social on Blue Sky, or @Theodwulf on Telegram.

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