It's Political, Isn't It?

They were the old fashioned metallic type hand cuffs. Probably back in style because of the metal glut from ore that Venn and other exo-preneures were bringing down from near earth asteroids. It was a crude and barbarous instrument, but it would do in a pinch, and I had a suspicion that we were in a pinch now.

Back in the copulation room I positioned myself on the mattress behind Ophelia. Neither she nor the stud she was riding could see me. But I could see enough underneath the wisps of the sloppily replaced wig to realize that my hunch had been correct.

"Hi Ophelia." I whispered in her ear as I grabbed her by the waiste.

"Nate?....what the..."

"Don't worry sister. Let's make this a threesome."

Instead of objecting she gave a pleasant groan. I started to thrust my now throbbing cock up her crack.

"You enjoy fucking don't you sister Ophelia?"

She groaned, but not without a whisper of protest. "I saw you too with that skin-covering bitch."

"But she didn't fuck me."

"Poor brother."

"It's OK sister, cause I'm fucking you now right up the butt." My cock was now reaming deep into her backside. She gave out a moan as she was pleasured both fore and aft. "We're going to get all those clothes wearing hypocrites some day aren't we?"

She moaned in assent.

"But not your way. You've been fucking us over all the time havn't you sis?"

"Huh?"

"Hey, try to grab my cock."

As she greedily reached her hands back I clapped the cuffs on her. She gave a cry as the cold metal cut into her skin and the lock clicked.

"There's something you can wear bitch!"

"Fuck you!"

"And here's something you can't" I pulled off the wig to reveal Ophelia's glistening closely shaven scalp. As I had guessed the wig was intended for purposes of concealment. Perhaps ultimately for weapons. But at present the most important function of the wig was to conceal a tattoo above the nape of Ophelia's neck which read STARC.

"Your STARC!" I shouted without reserve.

Her bottom service stud, now aroused from his pleasures gasped. "She's more than stark...she's bald!"

"No, I mean she's a terrorist." Actually I was no longer sure I knew who Ophelia Katz was anymore. Evidently she had managed to infiltrate both the CNP and Venn's organization. Perhaps she was really a STARC extremist. Or perhaps she was a reactionary just posing as a nude, being positioned to act as an agent provocateur. Either way I suspected that she found her present position rather uncomfortable. True to form, the cowardly stud's member had wilted at mention of the scare word 'terrorist' and proceeded to flop out of her oozing vagina, but I kept thrusting into her from behind and managed to lift her off the mattress like a skewered pig.

The emergency lights were going on now. People were scrambling out of all sorts of compromising positions, but none so compromising as this so-called Ophelia whom I had succeeded in hoisting up to public view on the prong of my member. "Sorry to interrupt your pleasure folks. But I feel I have to warn you about the presence of a terrorist in our midst." Discharging my semen into the traitor, I let her slide off my dick onto the floor. There she curled up in shame, her hands pinioned behind her and unable to cover the incriminating tattoo visible on the surface of her shorn scalp.

At that point I walked out of the room unchallenged, leaving Ophelia, or whoever she was, to the tender mercies of the crowd. In retrospect I realized that the legitimate nude movement had been saved from a public relations nightmare which might have set the cause back by many years. It wasn't clear what mischief this agent had in mind but her penetration into the inner circles of the Venn empire's trust wasn't reassuring.

Yet by intervening in one vital matter I had managed to walk away from another, perhaps less momentous but far more personal. Now I know how any textile bound kid feels about his first love. Will I ever get back with Alice? Would she consent to make it with a nude guy like me anyway? Oh the imponderables. Oh that primitive but undeniable torment of being separated from one's love by a veil of cloth!

-end-