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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.

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

If that's not your cup of tea,

or if there are youngsters listening,

you can skip this one and

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

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

I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

and 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.

“Oiled Leather”

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

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

aboard very expensive imported Terran horses at first,

suitable for young cubs,

and then the much more dangerous

and deliriously fast grass chasers.

The creak of the tack,

her toes clutching the stirrup rings,

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

and the ground passed under its gait.

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

Salli knocked on the door lightly.

“Ali, may I come in?” “Sure, Milady,”

Ali replied from inside. “Ali,

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

Salli began to say as she entered,

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

where she normally tended her weapons.

“What is that?” Ali turned towards her,

ears growing red with embarrassment.

On the bench was a

remarkable assemblage of....

well, Salli supposed it was a uniform of sorts.

The oiled leather smell came from a bodysuit,

made of leather dyed deep,

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

but powerful frame,

and featured a remarkable number of zips,

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

Ali began to explain.

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

The younger vixen visibly bit back on the word slave,

probably knowing how badly Salli would react to it.

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

Salli asked. “Only a couple of times,”

Ali said. She shrugged.

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

It was terrifically expensive to make.

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

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

She took my measurements and

put it together for me, all handmade.”

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

“It looks great but

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

“So Milady Melanie said it was

more important that I was comfortable,

and let me wear regular clothes.

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

“I see,” Salli said,

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

rubbing the smooth leather,

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

The profile of a snarling vixen’s head was embroidered

over the right breast,

the symbol of Melanie’s former Red Vixen persona.

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

did a good job,” Ali agreed.

“What are you going to do with it?”

Salli brought her finger back up,

sniffing delicately.

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

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

“I guess put it into storage.”

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

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

Actually a vision of that was exactly

what Salli was thinking about.

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

she said, tapping her finger against her snout.

“Salli?” Ali prompted.

“How did you…” Salli cleared her throat.

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

“How did you look in it?

Do you have any pictures?”

“No pictures that I remember.

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

Red Vixen persona.

You could ask her though.”

“I don’t think so.”

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

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

Ali’s expression grew curious.

“Would you like me to try it on?”

she asked. “If it’s no trouble,”

Salli replied, feeling her mouth grow suddenly dry.

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

Ali said brightly.

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

and began stripping out of her gear and clothing,

laying her equipment belt on a nearby table,

then stripping out of her clothes.

First came her skirt,

leaving her leggings.

Then she began to unbutton her waistcoat,

folding it and setting aside before unbuttoning her blouse.

Then that was taken off,

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

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

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

leaving her nipples visible in their nest of fur,

and then unbuckled the forearm holster of her palm stunner,

normally hidden under her shirt,

with considerably more care.

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

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

unconscious of the beauty she projected.

“Not even your panties?”

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

than in any confusion.

“As tight as this thing fits,

going commando is that best option,”

Ali replied, grinning.

She sat on the edge of the workbench,

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

It slid with reluctance,

the interior lined with what looked like

black plastic or rubber,

with tiny clear plastic tubes

that almost looked veins threaded through the lining.

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

“Aren't you going to boil in that

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

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

“The interior lining has cooling veins running through it,

like a spacesuit,

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

She grabbed the tip of her own tail,

pushing it through a small opening over her ass,

shoving the furry mass into a tail bag,

also like a spacesuit now that Salli thought about it.

Then she worked her arms into the suit's,

the openings at the wrist

ending in straps that crossed between her thumb and fingers

and across her palm pads.

Salli watched her work,

as Ali reached between her legs

and grabbed a double zipper,

pulling it up from her crotch to bosom,

breathing outward as she continued to pull

until the suit closed in tight around her neck,

the high collar pressing against Ali's chin,

forcing her to stand with her head held high.

“Isn't that uncomfortable?”

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

to Ali's crotch. “No,”

Ali said, breathing carefully,

the suit creaking across her chest.

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

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

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

Despite the suit's cooling system it was obvious,

very obvious to Salli's nose,

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

was growing increasingly distracting.

“Now the buckles,” Ali said.

She began with ones at her wrists and ankles,

obviously meant to help keep the suit from riding up.

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

Then a series of six went up her chest,

covering the zipper with a separate flap,

ending at one over her throat,

sealing away the zipper's end.

All the buckles were of a curious construction,

lacking any tongue,

just flat slots of blackened metal

that the strap ends fit into loosely.

“How does that work?” Salli asked,

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

they just slip out again?”

“Show you in a moment,”

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

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

handing it to Salli.

There was only one button on it,

unmarked. “Press it.”

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

as the myriad of straps suddenly tightened,

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

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

Ali said, her expression looking slightly strained

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

“And they don't release without this?”

Salli asked, fingering the remote.

“No, milady,” Ali said.

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

she said. “I see,” Salli replied,

her voice growing husky,

her own breasts pressing against the bosom of her dress

as her breathing deepened,

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

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

before wrapping her arms around Ali,

pressing the younger vixen back

against the workbench

as she growled possessively.

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

She let Ali out of the suit.

Eventually. This was

“Oiled Leather” by Royce Day,

read for you by Khaki,

your faithful fireside companion.

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

or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

Thank you for listening

to The Voice of Dog.