Santo' Workshop
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It's About Saving Yourself Ch 32
🕑 Added 2025-08-03 17:02:40 +0000 UTCGood afternoon folks!
The google algorithm is probably going to think I suddenly seek spiritual enlightenment after the research I've been doing.
You'll see what I mean in a bit.
Glad to be back! Going forward at full tilt! Relatively rested and ready to go! WHOO!
As usual, please drop me a comment, lemme know if you liked. Or don't, I remain not the boss of you.
=][=
I sat on my bed and absently stroked Lucy’s magnificent ass as she lay on my lap, she flinched, then shuddered, but didn’t fight back as my right hand currently had a tight grip on the hair on top of her head.
I switched the cheek I was caressing, making her twitch again with anticipation, when I continued to caress her, she groaned and wiggled her wonderful derriere enticingly, then stilled as I pinched the pale flesh on my lap.
She was wearing a dress that barely deserved the name, the gossamer thin silvery fabric leaving her back, legs, and hips exposed. Its risqué elegance did not at all fit in my apartment at the Northside drive-in motel. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to do this when either my mother or David could walk in on me and her.
Worse still if Ciri or the knife-ear were to see it.
“Are you going to make me wait all d-AY!” Lucy at first complained then yelped when I brought my organic hand down on her tight, cute, perfectly sized glute. The flesh of her buttocks jiggling hypnotically with the impact.
“Silence woman.” I ordered, caressing the reddening skin, making her hiss. “I am basking in perfection.”
“Well, your basking is taking too lo-ONG!” She quipped then once again yelped when I brought my hand down on the opposite buttock.
“You’re the one that wanted me to spank you.” I said, then used my grip on her hair to push her face down against the mattress. The glistening lips of her quim twitching at the ‘rough’ treatment. “Don’t complain that I take my time with it.”
She turned her head enough to be able to talk. “Well, I dunno, it seemed like it might be fun. But if I just wanted you to massage my ass I would have t-HMM!-Stop interrupting me!”
I gave her yet another spank for the lip. “Wanna do anything in particular? Should I be punishing you for not doing your assignments? Call you a naughty girl in need of correction?”
I waited for her to open her mouth to answer, and delivered a more forceful slap that made my palm sting, left a red imprint of my hand on her skin, caused a ripple to cross both glutes, and made her moan whorishly before she pressed her face to the mattress to muffle the sound as she kicked her feet on the mattress.
I gently caressed her beleaguered flesh and tried to ignore mini-me’s painful demand for attention as my member did everything in its power to shatter the zipper on my pants.
The steadily growing dampness on my leg from Lucy’s arousal was significantly harder to ignore.
Once she was ready, Lucy panted as she lifted her face from the mattress, absently pressing her derriere more tightly against my palm. “That…Ugh…I think that last one awakened something.”
She yelped as I very gently smacked her other butt cheek. “Did it now? Veeeeeeery interesting. Now what to do with this information?”
And of course, because I cannot have nice things, that’s when a ringtone rang in my head. Worse still, Rogue was the one calling, so I couldn’t just put her off.
So, lightly pinching Lucy’s inner thigh to get her attention. I answered the call, though I kept it sound only. “Hey Rogue, this is really not a good time.”
[Well too bad, make it a good time.] Rogue said, lounging on her booth in the screen that popped up in my AR. [Get down here, something important came up that will make us a ton of scratch.]
“Right.” I said, absently caressing the perfect globes in front of me. “Can it wait a little while? I’m kinda in the middle of something and I’d really hate to leave it half-finished.”
Rogue lifted an eyebrow on the screen. [Oh? Pray tell, what could possibly be so important that you’ make me wait?]
I smiled down at Lucy, whose eyes widened as she read my intentions. She shook her head and mouthed. ‘Don’t you dare!’
Then after another loud ‘thwack!’ she released another utterly pornographic moan, one that I pulled on her hair to stop her muffling it against the mattress.
Rogue blinked, then snorted. [Alright, you win. Fuck that ice queen of yours into a proper puddle, then get yourself cleaned up and get your ass over here.]
“Aye aye.” I said.
[And Redeye? This can wait a while. So do it right.] Rogue said before ending the call.
“My vengeance.” Lucy groaned between pants. “Will be cold, and brutal.”
I yanked lightly on her hair and gave her rump a half-hearted spank, making her hiss and her pussy twitched enticingly. “Something something naughty girl. We both know you enjoyed that, pervert.”
“Cold aAAND!-b-brutal!” Lucy ground out, not letting me interrupt her.
I chuckled as I messaged her rump, then tightened my grip on her hair. “Keep your safe word in mind, because I’m about to get serious.”
Lucy shuddered beneath me, her hands bunching up on the bedding before looking back defiantly and stating. “I will never call you daddy.”
I grinned and whispered. “Challenge accepted.”
=][=
Several hours later, somewhat tired, pleasantly sore, and with a still stinging palm, but thoroughly satisfied. I had taken a very nice long shower and left my girlfriend a sweaty, tear-streaked puddle soaking in happy brain chemicals.
I probably shouldn’t let Rebecca learn of what we got up to, she’d go straight to the Mox with it, and I didn’t wanna deal with that mess.
I strode into the Afterlife and made my way to Rogue’s booth and stopped when I saw that she was busy speaking to, had things gone to plan, a future version of me. Some corpo mid-tier paper pusher who was doing shady shit and was treated as an expendable asset by (going by the way he was dressed in blacks and reds) Arasaka.
Hacking his Neuroport informed me that he was one Frank Nostra, Arasaka Intel Division, working under one Abernathy, Susan.
Rogue waved him away. “Leave us.”
Frank scowled. “We are not done, Rogue.”
Rogue’s dismissive wave turned into a glare. “You burned all your favors getting the opportunity to waste my time. Don’t push your luck, rat. Get out.”
Frank glared at me, then his face paled and he shuffled his way out. Don’t know what his problem is, all I did was look at him.
I walked over to Rogue and took a seat. “Hey Rogue, what’cha need me for?”
Rogue picked up her glass, took a gulp, and said. “Got a job. You’re gonna have to pack, you’ll be leaving Night City for a few months. Some rich asshat influencer in Europe. I won’t bore you with needless details. You’re going to be part of the security detail of some jackass that does fashion shows. You’ll mostly be there to look intimidating and so he can claim he has some hotshot mercenary in his employ. Easy eds.”
“Pass.” I said immediately, standing up. “But thank you for your consideration.”
“Stop.” She commanded, making me jerk to a halt.
I unclenched my cyber-ware hand and turned to look at her over my shoulder.
Her heartbeat sped up, her pupils dilated, and her right hand had a few micro-tremors, a cursory scan revealed she had a handcannon stashed inside a cubicle behind a bit of false wall next to her hand, probably loaded with armor piercers.
“Rogue.” I said calmly and reasonably, for some reason the various bouncers around her booth gulped. “I’m a soon to be father, my presence is going to be needed. I cannot afford to fuck off over the pond for months at such a crucial time.”
A shadow of guilt ghosted over her face for the smallest fraction of a second before Rogue answered. “Kid, I understand where you’re coming from, I really, really do. I even find it commendable. But this job is going to be a walk in the park and will set you up with enough eds not to have to worry about jobs for a good long while. Babies are expensive, and they require a lot of care.” She gestured with her off hand, her right hand remaining in its too-casual rest of her seat. “Do this, and you’ll be able to essentially take most of a year off to be with your newborn. That’s a privilege few, if any, can afford.”
I narrowed my eyes, her main hand twitching again.
She wasn’t wrong, but if I had my way, I wouldn’t still be in this universe by the time my baby was born.
She knew I was preparing for something. She likely assumed I was putting together what I needed to build a bolt hole out in the Badlands. If that were the case, this job would truly be a blessing.
If I refused it, it would scream that I was preparing something even bigger than she had thus far assumed.
But I wasn’t ready yet. There were a number of deliveries that would happen over the next few weeks. Ciri had taken over putting them in the Behemoth purely for want of something to do other than sit around the apartment. So that at least was automated.
I didn’t need the money. I needed time. Time and safety.
If I refused Rogue after she made such a plea, then she would have to cut me loose to save face. She’d butt her nose in on my business more than she already was.
I couldn’t deny her.
Fuck.
Still…I could make use of that money. And there were other ways of making my displeasure known.
“I want forty percent more.” I stated with finality.
“Done.” Rogue agreed easily, which probably meant I was getting screwed even more than usual. “I’ll send you the detes for where you need to be for transport.”
I grunted, turned around, and walked away. But stopped at the entrance to the Afterlife and spoke to the bouncer without turning to address him. “Mister Bronson.”
I kept an eye on him through the Afterlife’s security camera, I’m not an idiot.
“Redeye.” He rumbled.
“Rogue is sending me away on a long job, Mister Bronson. That means there are certain duties I won’t be able to continue to do while I am away.” I turned to look at him, and his face turned white as he took a step back, widening his stance. “The redheaded medic. I will hold you personally responsible for her safety. Am I understood, Mister Bronson?”
He worked his massive, reinforced jaw, his eyes flitting from me to the entrance, and back. Before he swallowed and said. “Understood, Redeye.”
I nodded and wired him fifty thousand Eurodollars. If anything, his face paled further at the payment. “You will receive the rest of your commission upon my return. Do not disappoint me, Mister Bronson.”
He cleared his throat before answering. “Right. Redeye. I won’t.”
“Good.” I said and left without looking back. I sighed as I reached my car, I had left Lucy a puddle of happy brain chemicals and I wanted to preserve that as long as possible. So I put off informing my girl of the bad news and called Vik to see about getting any maintenance my implants needed.
Other than a few bullets pinging off my car door from a nearby firefight between what looked to be Maelstrom members, the drive was uneventful. I parked and made my way to Vik’s through the back of the alley but stopped at the threshold of the stairs.
Then, with a resolute huff, I turned around and made my way to Misty’s shop through the back door. She was sitting on one of her weird couches and humming quietly.
I will never comprehend her, but I couldn’t deny her effectiveness, so maybe my brain was simply too smooth to grasp enlightenment.
She cracked an eye open. “Oh, hey Aaaaaaaaal-Redeye. How can I help you?”
“I need you to read my Tarot again.” I said, striding until I was able to sit at her counter. “I’d like to know about the near future, and any advice you could give me about it.”
She hummed, then stood up. “You know, I never quite pegged you for someone who believed in the Tarot. I could have sworn that last time, you were just humoring me.”
“I was.” I admitted to her surprise. “But let’s just say I had an experience that made me doubt my assertions.”
“Mysterious.” She said as she shuffled the cards. “Okay, do you need the advice for something large, or something more mundane?”
“Large, I guess. Big life stuff. The works.”
She shuffled the cards some more, scattered them on the counter, compiled them back together into a deck, then set them down in front of me. “Think of your recent past, and of what you expect in the future. Now cut it into four piles.”
I did, she picked the cards back up and flipped the first one, setting it down to my right. The background of the card was a sickly yellow, it had bars on the upper left, either warehouse windows or computer monitors stacked in a grid. Taking up the majority of space of the card in black, purple, and blue was a mess of machinery and wires forming a throne-like chair, viewed from behind and to the left. Hooked into the chair with many wires connecting to the head was a humanoid figure, its head was turned towards the me, its right eye was lit a bright red, its left was a black void, it had no other visible facial features beyond the vague impression of a nose. It was dressed in loose, robe-like clothing.
“The Emperor, upright, the archetypical father. He represents protection, power and support. He makes the rules and enforces them through strict, but fair discipline. It is thanks to the Emperor’s steadfast guidance and wise decisions that order can be established from chaos.”
She flipped the next card. The card’s background consisted of crumbling buildings and destitute machinery in blue and purple, pale lilac smoke rising from the bottom left. At the center in shades of red sat a figure hovering in a cross-legged sitting position, a machine-like head with bits of tattered flesh hanging from it, its eyes shone bright red, it had tubes and wires snaking out of the front and back of its head, falling below and rising above the figure. On its chest were two keys, crossed against each other, their teeth pointing upwards, and in the figure's right hand it clutched a crude staff with three key-like teeth at its tip, going across the entire stem of the rod. The figure's clothes tattered, old and dripping with blood.
“The Hierophant, reversed. The Hierophant normally aids in enforcing the Emperor’s decrees, it is a figured of wisdom, knowledge, advice and authority. Reversed it may mean that passion and emotion will rule, while masquerading as intellect and wisdom. But it is too arrogant and hypocritical to see its error.”
She flipped the third card. The card’s backmost layer was a shade of darkish orange, in front of that was a yellow circle, and in front of that a black triangle. At the bottom of the background lay some sort of plant, instead of leaves it had small green and red flames on a few points on its snaking, jagged branches. Taking up the majority of the space in the card were the upper halves of two skeletons, one coming from the bottom of the card looking up, the other coming from the top of the card looking down. The skeletons were facing each other, with unnaturally long and pointed tongues slithering from their mouths and intertwining with each other. The top skeleton has a snake of purple and white stripes slithering from its ribcage around the neck and to the left of the top skeleton’s skull, just past its lower jaw. The bottom skeleton was cracked and battered, seems to have cybernetic wires and nodes on the left half of its skull, its right eye shining a bright bloody red, its left a sparking ruin.
“The lovers, reversed.” Misty said, scowling down at the cards. “The Lovers is the card of solutions, empowerment, and joining. It is to stand at a crossroads and to firmly choose one path to travel down. A sacred union that results in two people becoming greater than the sum of their parts. Reversed it can mean severance, separation, a warning of a choice between duty and the heart.”
She drew a fourth card and placed it above the central card. The card’s background was an abstract, dark purple, with light purple lines conveying indicating momentum and speed. The main figure of the card took up roughly the top two thirds of it, a biker hunched over in thick leather clothing dyed purple, with a black helmet that curved downwards to a point in front of where the figure's nose would be. The figure's open mouth was visible, its skin pure white and ghoulish. The figure rode a motorcycle, it differed from the rest of the card thanks to it being mundane grey, reflective, and metallic machinery. Only the center of the motorcycle's body was visible in the card, the wheels seemingly just out of frame, the driver of the motorcycle racing to the left.
“The Charioteer, reversed. It represents willpower and drive, it tells you to strive into battle and exert your will through effort dauntless of the challenge, through this, you will attain a hard-won victory. Reversed it warns against false confidence, against indecision, and against blind rage.”
She drew a fifth card and set it at a mirror location across from the Charioteer. It showed a red industrial background of cascading metal buildings, wires, and infrastructure. At the center in the foreground lit in yellow was a cyberpunk walking on a rooftop with a malnourished dog by his side, walking to the left, one arm stretched in front of him, and his other arm carrying a stick. His right leg is in front of him, hovering over the edge of the building, as though about to step off the building's edge, unaware.
“The Fool, upright. The Fool is special, as he represents us all. The Fool is you, it is me, it is the lady down the street. The Fool is the everyman in a journey of discovery.” She scowled at the cards. “The Tarot begins and ends with the Fool. The Fool at the start of the journey symbolizes youth, ignorance, and naivete. The Fool at the end of the journey symbolizes growth and enlightenment. Through the whole journey, the Fool’s tireless, enduring hope drives him forward to his goal.”
She fell into an intense, thoughtful silence, staring at the cards.
I waited for a while before asking. “Uhh…this seems ominous. Can you unpack it for me?”
She reached forward hesitantly and touched the Emperor. “In the past, a figure of authority and discipline.” She moved on to touch the upside-down Hierophant. “In present, foolishness and self-delusion.” She moved to the lovers. “In the future, a choice between love and duty. A separation to achieve a goal.”
She moved to the top card. “The top card is advice, it is telling you to charge forward and do battle, only through that may your goal be achieved.” She touched the Fool at the bottom. “The bottom card is external influence. Something draws you to a journey ended and pulls you to a new beginning.”
I tossed that around my head…it…it sounded a lot like my current situation. I was a Father, I was Apex’s disciplinarian. I currently faced the choice of staying in Night City or being temporarily separated from my family and crew, and while I wanted to stay, it would be safer for everyone if I went…but through charging ahead and getting the job done, when I came back, I could use those resources to finish setting me and mine up for a new beginning in a world that isn’t a dying shithole.
Hell yeah.
“Okay cool, thanks.” I said and flicked her five thousand eddies, making my way to Vik.
“W-Wait, Al! I don’t charge for the Tarot! And this is too much!” She said, panicking.
“Don’t care!” I shot back, refusing the balance transfer request and removing myself from her ability to digitally perceive me.
Looks like things are finally looking up!
Comments
Santo
I'm glad you liked it! That was like, four and change hours of research to come up with it. XD
Zackman2k23
that tarot scene was fun
Santo
I have gained an appreciation for them. Though I do not relish the amount of research that went into the relatively short scene. XD
PunchingTucan
I do love tarot reading scenes, always so fun. A way for the author to tease the readers with posibilities.
Santo
That's an interesting theory.
Santo
Alex: *has hope for the first time in that life* Everyone else: YOU FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!
Santo
As the light gains purchase, spirits are lifted, and purpose is made clear.
Shorter than joe Mama
The David situation is going to crash, burn, explode, and then IMplode, isn't it?
NOPE YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME
This motherfucker is an idiot, hell I’m waiting for a David interrupt at this rate
Crimson Tourniquet
Something tells me that reading may not mean what he thinks it means. Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer
