Taken To The Tower

They had a chopper ready to go on the roof of the venue. Within minutes they were flying up and over the Night City skyline, passing by a distant, towering billboard displaying, 2023 in glowing script. The bald fucker's breath was hot on the nape of her neck, but she paid him no mind. As they rose in concentric loops around the tower, he whispered to her. "Don't know the full deets of what they want you for, girl, but it sounds damn interesting from what I have heard." Her jeans had ridden a little low at the back, and he took the opportunity to tug at her panties where they peeked out from the top of them as a slim white whale tail. Alt gasped, flinching at the feel of the material pulling taut and sliding up between her cheeks. She slapped at his hand and he retracted it, chuckling quietly to himself. "You don't touch me," she hissed.
"Can't begrudge a man for sampling the goods."
"Don't." She warned.
"Whatever you say, sweet cheeks. Whatever you say..."
The rest of the ride passed in silence, with Alt spending most of it gazing out the window, trying to resist the urge to stick her hand down her pants and fix the pseudo-wedgie baldie had set in motion down there. The chopper glided smoothly into a hangar set into the side of Arasaka Tower, touching down and finally coming to a stop. The men disembarked, baldie lingering behind with Alt. "Come on, let's go." He patted the rear of Alt's jeans, making her ball her hands into fists. "You enjoy embarrassing me?"
"Damn right I do. Now move it, sweet cheeks."
Alt didn't bother arguing further, this one had a silver tongue, ready to throw whatever she said right back at her. She was led across the hangar, where a squad of Arasaka corporate security waited, headed up by a woman in a black-and-red suit, wearing headgear Alt recognised on sight as Netrunning equipment. The woman bowed at Alt's approach, "Good evening, Miss Cunningham."
Alt looked her up and down. "You're new."
The woman smiled. "To you, perhaps. I am a...newly-interested party, intrigued by your...abilities."
"You mean my Netrunning? Or the software I write?"
"Both...and neither." She replied. "But I am getting ahead of myself; you may address me as Makoto Date."
"Alright...Makoto," Alt looked around nervously. "What do you want from me, then?"
"There is...an invention of mine I would like you to...consult on."
"What kind of invention?" Alt said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Makoto spread her arms wide as if showing off as they stepped into her lab. The place was a chaotic clutter of components, wires and equipment in various states of disassembly. Brushed steel work surfaces lined each wall, every one overflowing with objects Alt could only assume related to whatever work Makoto was doing. In one corner, a large leather chair that resembled a Ripperdoc's was bolted to the floor, some kind of helmet suspended above it, connected to a skeletal machine that sprouted from the ceiling. "Sense-Link," Makoto gestured to the chair, by way of explanation.
"Sense...link?" Alt echoed, confused.
"A device of my own creation, at the cutting-edge of braindance innovation."
"Braindance?" Alt blinked. I was working with proprietary AI before, you brought me all the way here for some suped-up Braindance machine?"
Makoto wagged a finger disapprovingly. "Do not disparage, Miss Cunningham. Sense-Link is far more than a 'suped-up' machine, it represents an entirely new axis of innovation upon which—"
"Enough of the product pitch," Alt interrupted, getting in closer to the Sense-Link to get a better look. "Let's just...get to the point." she sighed. "What does it do and how does it work?"
"Been wondering that myself, truth be told." Baldie said. Alt looked over at the doorway, jumping in surprise. "Jesus...what the fuck are you...?"
"Boss Lady requested my presence," he chuckled. "Well, actually she didn't request my presence specifically, I just volunteered when I heard what she needed done."
"Excellent, you are here," Makoto said, beckoning him over. "Start with the bottom, I think, hm?"
Baldie cracked his knuckles, giving her a cheeky smile. "With pleasure." He started forward, eyes glued to Alt's lower half. Alt backed away, looking between him and Makoto. "Wait, what? What is this? I thought—"
"I required your assistance? That remains true, Miss Cunningham, though the manner of assistance you will provide is perhaps...not what you might have expected." Makoto smiled apologetically.