Disclaimer: I do not own Saints Row: The Third
by Chronos Astral
– likeaBOSS is no longer IDLE. -
likeaBOSS: sorry bout the delay kinzie
likeaBOSS: i had some company over
likeaBOSS: howd you know?
dovahKinz: I have my ways.
likeaBOSS: sometimes you scare me kinz
dovahKinz: It's what makes me charming.
likeaBOSS: so back to the game
likeaBOSS: how are all these stupid bandits beating me so easy?
likeaBOSS: they're usually no problem
dovahKinz: For one, you're aggro'ing multitudes of them at the same time.
likeaBOSS: plain english?
dovahKinz: You're taking on too many of them at once.
likeaBOSS: i should be able to take them!
likeaBOSS: have you seen the muscles on my character? hes a walking tank!
dovahKinz: Your character is a mage. His physical appearance has no bearing on his actual capabilities, which are far from physical endurance even if you gave him the body mass of a bear.
dovahKinz: He's a squishy guy who has to be away from the heat of the action to be most effective.
dovahKinz: And your usual "strategy" of rushing in on your own and attempting to attack everything in sight will lead to your inevitable death and scathing remarks on how much of a n00b you are.
likeaBOSS: that is so weak
dovahKinz: You're the one who insisted on becoming the mage when I suggested you be a warrior, knowing that your preferred playstyle (and general approach to anything you want dead) would be the best parallel for that class.
dovahKinz: But you wanted to be the one that could do all the "flashy" spells. Much as creating a pillar of flame that would consume your enemies in bright red agony would be indulgent catharsis in itself, there's no point to it if they gut you before you can cast it.
dovahKinz: Your character class isn't exactly built to withstand seven bandits simultaneously shanking you.
likeaBOSS: wouldnt giving him six pack abs and killer biceps fix that problem?
dovahKinz: It's only an aesthetic feature, if anything, so you can change around how your character looks based on your ideal gameworld representative or avatar.
likeaBOSS: is that why your character is dressed in a leather bra, has an hourglass figure, and sporting double d boobs?
likeaBOSS: last i checked you were a size b at most
dovahKinz: How do you even know that?
likeaBOSS: i have my ways
dovahKinz: omg. We are not talking about my breasts.
likeaBOSS: im just sayin
likeaBOSS: a size b isnt bad
dovahKinz: Please stop talking.
dovahKinz: Look, I made my character based on personal preference, seeing as its the one thing you'll be seeing pretty much all the time in the game.
dovahKinz: I am not compensating for anything through my character.
likeaBOSS: so you wanted to see your character dressed in a leather bra, have an hourglass figure, and sport double d boobs?
likeaBOSS: and a loincloth?
likeaBOSS: i mean, i know you're into some kinky stuff, but wow kinz
likeaBOSS: you have some specific tastes
likeaBOSS:not that theyre bad or anything
dovahKinz: You know, there's this wonderful thing called 'shame'. You should try it some time. It could do you some good.
likeaBOSS: never touched the stuff
dovahKinz: Why am I not surprised?
likeaBOSS: hey like i said its nothing to be ashamed about
likeaBOSS: tell you what ill even dress that way for ya one of these days
likeaBOSS: in private mind you
dovahKinz: Oh god no.
likeaBOSS: think of it as a bonding experience between us yknow?
likeaBOSS: though i dunno if i can fill the leather bra out like your character does
dovahKinz: Just kill me now.
likeaBOSS: hang on let me just check something
dovahKinz: What are you
dovahKinz: Are you squeezing your breasts!
likeaBOSS: so i know if they can fill the
likeaBOSS: how the hell do you know that? can you see me?
likeaBOSS: did you hack the webcam on my laptop?
likeaBOSS: you did didn't you!
dovahKinz: You can't prove anythi
dovahKinz: Did you just flash me!
likeaBOSS: you dirty little minx
likeaBOSS:you are peeping at me through my webcam!
likeaBOSS: so into voyeurism too kinz?
likeaBOSS: if you really wanted to see me in my underwear you couldve asked
dovahKinz: No, stop.
dovahKinz: I can explain this.
dovahKinz: I swear to god, this was for surveillance purposes.
likeaBOSS: how long has this been going on?
dovahKinz: I only set this up today. I swear.
likeaBOSS: gotta say this is kind of awkward and a little weird
likeaBOSS: but flattering
dovahKinz: Wipe that smirk off you.
dovahKinz: No, seriously. I can still see you. Stop smiling. Don't flatter yourself.
dovahKinz: I did this for surveillance. That's it.
dovahKinz: I am spying on you, not getting off on you in a thong.
likeaBOSS: because that makes it so much better
likeaBOSS: seriously what is it with you and viola today?
likeaBOSS: i feel like the evil scientist bent on world domination or something
likeaBOSS: and i thought you already knew a lot about me
dovahKinz: Call it a whim, I guess?
dovahKinz: There are some things that databases and information networks can't tell me.
likeaBOSS: like how i nearly got it on with viola?
likeaBOSS: or how sexy i look in lingerie?
dovahKinz: … Nevermind.
dovahKinz: I'll uninstall the program, and we can pretend this never happened. Okay?
likeaBOSS: no way this is great!
likeaBOSS: well okay uninstall the program since I dont want you peeping on me 24/7 but we need to capitalize on this
likeaBOSS: youre showing an interest in things outside of technology
likeaBOSS: which is my personal life apparently. or my body. either way its something
likeaBOSS: it's nice to know you find me attractive sweetie
dovahKinz: Is this about that damn movie again?
dovahKinz: We were acting. We are not, and I quote that stupid movie script, "space lesbians".
likeaBOSS: which you agreed to do
dovahKinz: For the money. I wanted a new terminal to work with.
likeaBOSS: i dunno you sounded convincingly lovestruck to me
dovahKinz: You are an idiot.
likeaBOSS: not what you said when we did that kissing scene
dovahKinz: What part of "Let's never speak of this again, ever." did you not understand?
likeaBOSS: you seemed pretty into it
dovahKinz: Fuck you.
likeaBOSS: oh yeah we were actually supposed to
likeaBOSS: fuck i mean
likeaBOSS: in the movie
likeaBOSS: the producers had a sex scene planned some time just before the fight on mars
likeaBOSS: there were some problems though mainly getting into contact with you at the time we were supposed to film it
likeaBOSS: that was around the time that game you were waiting for game came out so we figured that was the reason you werent answering the phone for over a week
likeaBOSS: so we brought in a double
likeaBOSS: she had a nice ass but she wasnt as cute as you
likeaBOSS: we kind of got a little too into it on camera and the director cut us off
likeaBOSS: she gave me her number
dovahKinz: Too much information.
dovahKinz: Why didn't any of you even tell me!
dovahKinz: No, on second thought, why even tell me now!
dovahKinz: I would have been perfectly alright with never finding out about it!
likeaBOSS: youre going to be watching the premiere anyway
likeaBOSS: youd have found out eventually so better now than for you to freak out while youre in the movie place
dovahKinz: I am not going.
dovahKinz: It's probably going to be a box office flop anyway.
likeaBOSS: ouch why so upset?
likeaBOSS: it wasnt even you just a body double
likeaBOSS: or is that the reason youre upset?
dovahKinz: What are you even saying!
likeaBOSS: did you want to do the sex scene with me?
– dovahKinz is now OFFLINE. –
likeaBOSS: dei ja vu
'It's spelled "deja vu". Dumbass.'
Was what Kinzie wanted to type if she didn't want to seem like she'd left in a huff. She did, but only just set her messenger client to appear as if she were offline to her current chatmate. The insufferable scantily-clad woman on the other end of the messaging stream would no doubt take pleasure at drawing more of her ire were she to press the issue further. The entire conversation was embarrassing enough that she dare not add more fuel to the fire. The hacker merely lets out an exhasperated sigh as she leans back on her chair while massaging her brow.
Perhaps she'd brought this upon herself, was her passing thought. It was her initiative to invite the Boss to chat with her, for whatever reason that compelled her to, even though said woman made for a small migraine of a conversation. A fact Kinzie would not care to admit was that it had become something of a routine for them to chat about something mundane or other, with the occasional pinch of absurdity that only someone as eccentric as the Boss could muster with an air of casualness. For whatever reason, it had become a tolerable change in her everyday, worming its way into what was once the part of her mind that derived pleasure from social interaction, however slight, inane, or somewhat irritating.
'I had pancakes.' Those seemed to be the words that had started it all. She had actually gone outside for once, out of her 'Inner Sanctum', to eat pancakes. Granted, it was one of the most mundane things to have chosen to do, easy enough that they could be bought and eaten so close to her place, and nevermind her normal routine of eating whatever microwavable foodstuff or effortlessly prepared meal that was sitting in her fridge. Nonetheless, it was new, an escape from routine that the socially-repressed young woman had ensconced herself in.
Kinzie didn't know why the first person she would talk to about it would be the Boss. She didn't even know why she had done it in the first place, or why even felt the need to tell someone. Thinking on it, it was a silly thing to even admit. It was not as if she had something to prove to anyone, that maybe she might not have been as much a recluse as she seemed. She was never bothered by the way she chose to live, and she never truly cared for the opinion of others. Nobody was as good at her job as she was. Everybody in the Saints -in all of Steelport knew it, acknowledged it, and she was content with that. Why ever feel the need to be something else or to give the impression that she could go out to do something that didn't involve helping the Saints? And why tell the Boss?
The question nagged at her unanswered as she continued to regale the Boss with stories of going out to buy alcohol (untouched in a cupboard) and calling Viola just to say "Hi." It all seemed to please the Boss, or at the least amuse her, and without fail she would encourage Kinzie to attempt something beyond what she was comfortable with. Baby steps, she would tell the Boss. All the same, the woman's seeming approval was like a strange motivation to the introvert. She found herself exploring possibilities to things outside her home, the once frightening outside world now just a little less terrible as she thought. Why now, though? Why leave the comfort? Why risk it? And why did the Boss seem to care so much?
She recalls the conversation they just had and a sudden thought disturbs her when the image of Viola pinned to the wall is conjured from her memory, with Viola mysteriously sporting brown hair and glasses suspiciously similar to a certain agoraphobic hacker.
"... I need a drink."
With another sigh of irritation, she kicks off with her rolling chair towards the direction of her fridge, letting the wheels of the chair do the walking for her. Practice has made the art of using her momentum to both stop her forward movement and open the fridge door at the same time a nigh effortless performance on her part. She fishes a juicebox from within the cold confines of her fridge, half-empty and approaching its expiry date (good enough). The girl wastes no time in taking a sip, artificial grape wetting her parched mouth. A mental note is made to buy more juice (preferably of a different brand).
Kinzie looks off to the side, an unlit monitor offering her darkened reflection for her to view. Her hair was a tousled mess of amber, haphazardly tucked into a messy bun, frazzled bangs framing the sides of her face and covering some of her eye. Her glasses were practically relics, chipped and smudged at the sides of the lens. Hers was a face untouched by cosmetics, the subtlest of marked skin easily concealed with a touch of makeup lay bare for any to see.
Once upon a time, Kinzie Kensington was a girl like any other, wanting to be 'normal'. A few years of trying and failing, she gave the idea a thankless "fuck you" and decided that 'normal' was overrated and beauty was stupid. Other girls could preen before mirrors and talk about their crushes all they liked. All she needed was technology, unbiased and unfeeling. It was perfection.
She bites her lip and weighed one bang of hair experimentally with her finger. She tucks it behind one ear and cranes her neck to see the how she looked. In her opinion, not bad, and Kinzie allows herself a tiny smile. Proof that she could care about her appearance and could be pretty if she wanted.
And she wonders if the double that the Boss fucked was more attractive than her.
but she wasnt as cute as you
did you want to do the sex scene with me?
A splutter and a coughing fit later, grape juice was sprayed across the legs of her torn jeans whilst she tried not to choke on the remnant fluid by coughing into her fist.
She groans in frustration, the heat on the sides of her face merely a soreness from the coughing (or so she assumed). Aggresively, she kicks herself over to her terminal to keep busy, bespectacled eyes occupying themselves with readings off monitors and her mind trying desperately to battle away thoughts of a smirking, thong-clad, sexy bitch of a woman.
The readings indicated a transfer of data had been detected from within the Saints secure channel. It was a video, by the look of it, with 'bossandshaundi' as its filename, being retrieved from an outside database that appeared to belong to Pierce. Curious to know what it had to do with the Boss, Kinzie tracks the feed and creates a duplicate stream to her own secured network, now downloading the video for her to view in just a few minutes. The wait wasn't long.
The video loads onto one of the larger monitors for better viewing and opens with the shot of what appeared to be the foot of a bed. The face of a woman appears in view of the camera, evidently flushed and giddy from alcohol. It took a moment to recongnize her as an inebriated Shaundi, a little younger than the one Kinzie knew of this day. Shaundi wobbles away from the camera, grinning with drunken contentment and wearing what appears to be clothing that could technically be considered a top were it not made of just enough fabric to pass as a handkerchief. She attempts to pull someone off-screen, which Kinzie had correctly guessed to be the Boss, looking thankfully more sober, but no less mischievous with her come-hither smirk. Shaundi appears to push the other woman down to the bed, gasping audibly when her supposed victim only pulls her down with her, the two engaging in a heated exchange of lips and tongues. Were the nature of the video not clear enough to Kinzie at this point, the two make a show of undressing one another, slowly and deliberately, mouths pressed to skin, hands groping feverishly and giddily at mounds of flesh now free of cloth.
To her horror, Kinzie finds herself engrossed in every dip and curve of the Boss's body as it writhes against that of the inebriated Saints liutenant. The woman's smile was something else entirely, hungry and fierce as if about to devour Shaundi, and devour they did when teeth would meet the junction of neck, and the amber-haired onlooker suppresses a shiver when Shaundi squeals in delight, a foreign heat churning inside of Kinzie as she continued to watch. The two women on-screen have at each other, the Boss clearly in control when she all but has her subordinate hoarse from producing all manner of noises from the pit of her throat. It was at this point that Kinzie finds her hand twitching upon her thigh, itching to relieve the heat that had been pooling within. She was no stranger to it, the guilty pleasures of a late night video from a sleazy website with ads about dick enlargement and local girls wanting a good fuck, but words and images play into her mind courtesy of the elusive boss of the 3rd Street Saints in conjunction with the actions of said boss on the screen, and each deliberate movement only seems to magnify the familiar twitch in Kinzie's hand as it made its way to the button of her jeans.
It was for a few seconds that the Boss would look directly at the camera, a piercing, half-lidded gaze that almost seemed directed at the now-flushed amber-haired girl.
"Oh my god..."
Her fingers were already working at the button of her jeans, when the ring of her phone stops her short. She gasps at the interruption, realizing then what she was about to do. Panicked, she takes the offending hand away from her pants to stop the video feed. Still flushed and confused, the girl fumbles for her phone while turning away from the screen, breathing in deep as if she'd forgotten how just a few moments ago.
"H-Hello?" she speaks into the receiver.
"Agent Kensington," the woman on the other line starts, her voice belonging to no other than Viola DeWynter. "Are you busy? I'd like to ask a few things from you,"
Kinzie turns to the video screen for a moment, the stilled picture of two women locked in a rather compromising position greeting her. The girl hastily closes the screen before her eyes would attempt to memorize the curve of the Boss's backside. Again. "No. Definitely not busy. At all."
Well, that's the first time I've ever published anything that graphic, though it's not that much. Ahem.
Might edit this a little later because I'm posting this around 4am. Oops. Where did my priorities go?
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