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GG: password?

CG: PASSWORD? REALLY? YOU HAVEN'T SUFFICIENTLY HUMILIATED ME ENOUGH JUST CONVINCING ME TO GO THROUGH WITH THIS INANE HUMAN MATING RITUAL, THAT I'M ALMOST SURE ISN'T A REAL GODDAMN MATING RITUAL AT ALL BECAUSE YOU DUMB-FUCKING HUMANS LOVE TO LIE ABOUT ALL THESE BIZARRE SEXUAL PRACTICES YOU HAVE? YOUR VAST ARRAY OF HUMAN FETISHES AND KINKS IS CLEAR OVER-COMPENSATION FOR YOUR SIMPLISTIC ROMANTIC STRUCTURE.

GG: password.

CG: FINE. THIS IS KARKAT, LOVE SLAVE TO ONE MISTRESS JADE HARLEY. I HUMBLY SUBMIT MYSELF WITHOUT PROTEST TO WHATEVER THE DOG-EARED SPACE WITCH DEMANDS, UP TO AND INCLUDING THE MOST DEGRADING SELF-AGGRANDIZING MASTURBATORY ACTS IMAGINABLE. I FALL DOWN ON MY BONY CARTILAGE LEG KNOBS AND PROSTRATE MYSELF BEFORE THE INFINITE WISDOM OF MISTRESS HARLEY.

GG: password accepted.

GG: go ahead and turn on the webcam.

The Trollian Trans-Universal webcam goes bright. Karkat now sees Jade on the other end, sitting in a lone chair and fully decked out in her 3 A.M. dominatrix gear—easily the best benefit of this arrangement, watching her wearing her silly dog ears and shining in the sparkling black-green latex suit, and boots. He could spend sweeps just watching the light shimmer off her boots.

GG: karkat?
GG: slave?
GG: HEY, FUCKFACE!

CG: WHAT? HAVE I EVER MENTIONED HOW FUCKING ANNOYING IT IS WHEN YOU IMITATE MY PAST SELF?

GG: you're not following the password. :(
GG: do it right.

CG: YES MISTRESS HARLEY. YOUR HUMBLE SLAVE LONGS TO HEAR YOUR COMMAND.

GG: better.
GG: i see you're not wearing the gift i sent you.
GG: put it on.

CG. FINE.

Karkat makes a show of stomping around the room, stark naked except for the accessory he's about to put on. Just being naked in front of someone two universes away is humiliating enough, the collar and leash, specifically alchemized to go with Jade's gear and then sent across space, makes the vulnerability even worse. It sends a message. For better or otherwise, Karkat, the lowly mutant crankytroll is now in the warm and demanding hands of his human mistress. The collar is almost-but-not-quite too tight around the neck, and the leash leads nowhere, but if she insists on it…

CG: THERE. I’M WEARING THE FUCKING THING. BARK. BARK. ARE YOUR DEPRAVED HUMAN SEXUAL PROCLIVITIES SATISFIED NOW, MISTRESS HARLEY?

GG: much better. :)
GG: move a little bit to the left so i can see you.
GG: hmm…adjust the camera a bit downward.
GG: now up a bit.
GG: very nice.
GG: i think your body is belying your bluster, slave.
GG: focus the camera on your face. aww…you're blushing. :)

CG: MAY I JUST DELIVER A VERY RESPECTFUL AND HUMBLE 'FUCK YOU' TO MISTRESS HARLEY? ALLOW ME TO USE MY INVOLUNTARILY ERECT BONE BULGE TO SENDIFICATE IT TO YOU.

GG: :(
GG: if you continue behaving like this, slave, i'm afraid you will have to be punished.
GG: :(

CG: AND STOP IT WITH THE GODDAMN FROWNY EMOTICONS, MY INFINITELY WONDERFUL LADY. YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY GOING TO ENJOY PUNISHING YOUR WORTHLESS SLAVE. LAY IT ON ME, MISTRESS HARLEY.

GG: if you insist, i will be more than happy to do so. :)
GG: assume the position of recitation.

Karkat steps back from the webcam, his eyes always on the monitor watching for Jade's—Mistress Harley's—instructions. At her faint nod of approval, and the almost luxurious crossing and uncrossing of her legs—he gulps. His hands go behind his back, and like a newly-pupated wiggler preparing to recite all 48 orders of the Alternian Army starting with the Archeradicators and ending with his own personal favorite, the Threshecutioners, he prepares for a mighty and mentally draining act of performance. Only Mistress Harley makes it a thousand times worse, just sitting there all calm and smug at his vulnerability, and he's so hard, and fuck…he wishes he had a towel here.

CG: I AM READY, MISTRESS HARLEY.

GG: i tell you when you're ready, karkat, and…
GG: you're ready. :)
GG: recite the fourth exaltation.

CG: OH JEGUS, WHICH ONE OF YOUR FUCKING INANE PEP TALKS IS THAT? IS IT THE ONE WHERE I TALK ABOUT HOW AWESOME A LEADER I AM, AND IF NOT FOR ME MY WHOLE SPECIES WOULD BE ALL-EXTINCT INSTEAD OF MOSTLY-EXTINCT AND YOUR UNIVERSE WOULDN'T BE CREATED. OR MAYBE IT'S THE ONE WHERE DESPITE MY UNBEARABLE SELF-LOATHING, I'M STILL THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN SPREAD THE MESSAGE OF LOVE AND HOPE THROUGH THE UNIVERSE LIKE SOME KIND OF NUBBY-HORNED MAGICAL GIRL. OH, I KNOW, IT'S THE ONE WHERE I TALK ABOUT HOW ADORABLE IT IS WHEN I BLUSH AND RECITE ALL THIS TERRIBLE SLANDEROUS BULLSHIT. TELL ME, MISTRESS HARLEY, WHICH ONE IS IT? MY SECRETION-CLOGGED EARPATHS AWAIT YOUR WISDOM.

GG: technically it would be libel, since it's preserved in writing. :D
GG: but seeing as it's both positive and true, it's still not libel.

CG: JUST TELL ME WHICH OF YOUR CONVOLUTED SPEECHES IT IS.

GG: it's the one where you talk at length about your sexual prowess. >:)

CG: OH NOT THIS ONE. NOT THE ONE WHERE I PUFF OUT MY CHEST AND START THE WHOLE…NO.

GG: karkat, do it. your mistress commands you.

CG: …FINE. I, KARKAT VANTAS, AM THE FUCKING LEGEND OF SEXUAL PROWESS. THE SLURRIES OF MY RED AND BLACK CONQUESTS COULD FILL AN ENTIRE FILIAL PAIL AND SPAWN A MILLION GRUBS WHO COULD HATCH AND CONQUER AN ARM OF THE GALAXY BY THEMSELVES. MY BONE BULGE MAKES MY MATESPRITS GASP IN BOTH DELIGHT AND SUPPRESSED FEAR AND MY KISMESISES GASP IN BOTH RAGE AND SUPPRESSED DELIGHT. MY PROWESS IS SUCH THAT IF ALTERNIA WERE STILL AROUND AND FUNCTIONING, AN IMPERIAL DRONE WOULD HAVE TO FOLLOW ME AROUND CONSTANTLY JUST TO CAPTURE THE GENETIC MATERIAL OTHERS EXCRETE AT THE MERE BRUSH OF MY SMOLDERING GAZE UPON THEM. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED ME TO SAY?

GG: yes, that will do nicely.
GG: your blush is quite fetching.

CG: FUCK YOU, MISTRESS HARLEY. FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR DEPRAVED EARTH PROCLIVITIES.

GG: :)
GG: i want to see you play with your leash and your legendary bulge.

This is so humiliating, being in front of Mistress Harley with her like that sitting in her chair, all composed except for the constant crossing and uncrossing of her legs and the press of her fingers against her crotch. He's blushing with the intensity of a ten thousand mutant red suns—like those even exist—and the only thing he'd change about the whole arrangement is to cross the length between them, and have the thick heels of those stupid shiny platform shoes tap his shoulder blades. If she's going to make him wear this stupid get up, she could at least hold the lead, and pull him in between her legs like some kind of disgusting human lap-creature. His right hand grabs his leash, while the left one holds his cock.

There's only one thing left to say, short of admitting that he might have one of these stupid human fetishes, which he definitely does not have.

CG: AS YOU WISH, MISTRESS HARLEY. IN FACT, YOUR EVERY WISH IS MY FUCKING COMMAND.

It is, too.